#ch41s3

The room is still.

Chaeyoung is still close when you open your eyes, her forehead resting lightly against yours, breaths slow, even, shared in that small space between you.

Neither of you moves right away.

There’s a kind of quiet that comes after being that close—after soft laughter, after whispered things that barely made it past your lips, after kisses that didn’t feel rushed or careful.

Her thumb brushes once against your arm.

“…Hey,” she murmurs, voice low.

You hum in response, not quite ready to speak yet.

She leans in again—just once—pressing one last, lingering kiss against your lips.

Then she pulls back slightly, exhaling a soft breath like she’s letting the moment settle instead of ending it.

“I need air,” she mumbles.

You nod, even if she didn’t really ask.

She slips out of bed first.

You follow after a few seconds.

The window’s already cracked open, curtain shifting gently with the breeze. Chaeyoung settles into the seat, pulling her hoodie around her, fingers slipping into the pocket.

A pack of cigarettes.

Marlboro Blue.

She taps it lightly against her palm before sliding one out, resting it between her fingers like it’s something familiar, something she doesn’t have to think about.

You watch her for a second.

She glances at you, catching your gaze, lips curving just a little.

“Still okay with this?” she asks quietly.

You nod. “Yeah.”

The lighter flickers to life, flame briefly illuminating her face before she leans in, lighting the cigarette.

A slow inhale.

A softer exhale.

Smoke curls past her lips, drifting out the window like it knows where to go.

She doesn’t take another one right away.

Instead, she turns slightly toward you, holding it out.

Offering.

You moved closer without a word, settling beside her again, your shoulder brushing hers as you take it from her fingers.

You take a small drag then pass it back.

The rhythm builds naturally.

Her.

You.

Back again.

The cigarette glows faintly between your fingers before you pass it over. Chaeyoung watches it for a second when it returns to her.

“My dad used to smoke these,” she murmurs.

“I used to hate the smell when I was a kid.” Her lips curve faintly, almost amused.

“Funny how things change.”

You watch her carefully.

The way her fingers hold it.

The way she looks at it like it’s familiar, but not necessarily loved.

You take it when she offers again, but this time, you don’t bring it to your lips right away.

“…I still hate it,” you admit quietly.

She glances at you.

You shrug a little, shoulders brushing hers.

“My mom always complained about people who smoked,” you add, a small breath leaving you. “Said it sticks to everything. Clothes, walls… people.”

You finally take a small drag, like you’re proving you can, before handing it back.

Chaeyoung watches you for a second.

Then she quietly exhales through her nose.

Not quite a laugh this time. More like she’s trying not to make you feel bad about it.

“You’re still bad at it,” she says, softer.

“I told you I am,” you reply, wiping your lips slightly like the taste bothers you.

The cigarette comes back to her hand, but she doesn’t take a drag right away.

You glance at it again.

“Why Marlboro Blue?” you ask.

Chaeyoung blinks a little, like she didn’t expect that to be the next thing.

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve ever bought,” she says simply.

You hum, like that makes sense but also doesn’t really explain anything.

“My mom would’ve hated this.”

That makes her glance at you.

“She would’ve given us a whole lecture,” you add. “Like… not even just smoking. The smell. Everything.”

Chaeyoung looks at you for a second longer than before.

“You talk about your mom a lot,” she says.

“She’s loud.”

A faint nod from her.

“Is she strict?”

You shrug.

“She just notices everything.”

Chaeyoung looks out the window again, cigarette turning slowly between her fingers.

“She’d probably not like me.”

You shake your head immediately.

“No.”

Chaeyoung glances at you.

“She would at first,” you add after a second, quieter now. “Because she’s like that with everyone I care about.”

You shift slightly closer, shoulder pressing more firmly against hers.

“But she’d get over it.”

“Yeah?” she murmurs.

You nod.

“Because you’re… actually nice.”

That makes her let out a small breath through her nose, like she’s not sure what to do with that.

“You’re respectful. You listen when people talk. You’re not loud in a bad way. And you’re—” you pause a little, searching, “you’re gentle when it matters.”

The cigarette is still between her fingers, forgotten again.

“My mom likes people like that,” you finish softly. “She just needs time to notice it.”

“And she’d definitely like the way you talk to her.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t respond right away.

She just looks at you like she’s trying to figure out if you actually believe what you’re saying or if you’re just being nice.

“You’re biased,” she says finally.

“Obviously,” you reply.

That gets a small smile out of her.

She finally stubs the cigarette out without finishing it.

“You really think that?” she asks.

You nod once. “Yeah.”

“Your mom sounds terrifying,” she mutters.

“She is,” you say again, like it’s normal.

That finally makes her huff a quiet laugh.

“And she’d still like me?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Because I like you. And she trusts that more than anything else.”

That’s what makes her go still.

Then she moves.

Her hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek like she’s done it before without thinking. Her thumb brushes once under your eye, then pauses there.

“You talk too much,” she says softly.

There’s no bite in it.

Just fondness wrapped in it.

You barely get a chance to react before she leans in.

This kiss isn’t teasing.

Her hand stays on your face while the other shifts behind your neck, pulling you closer like distance isn’t part of the plan anymore.

You melt into it without thinking, fingers catching on her hoodie, holding on like it’s automatic now.

There’s still a faint taste of smoke on her lips, but it’s fading into something softer. Something that’s just her.

The city outside keeps moving, but you stop noticing it.

She kisses you like she’s finishing a sentence she didn’t know she started earlier.

When she finally pulls back, it’s only a little.

Not enough to leave.

Her forehead rests against yours again, breath slower now.

“Sticks to everything,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

You let out a small laugh, breathless and quiet.

“Yeah.”

Her thumb traces your cheek once more.

Her gaze drops to your lips for half a second, like she’s thinking again, then she leans in without warning—just enough to catch you in another kiss.

When she pulls back, she doesn’t go far.

“Don’t tell your mom I smoke,” she adds quietly, like an afterthought.

You snort softly.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Good.”

Then she tilts her head slightly.

“Tell her I’m nice though.”

You raise a brow.

“She’d figure that out herself.”

Chaeyoung scoffs, but she’s smiling.