#johnnysuh

023. cornered W.C: 912

The restaurant felt like a pressure cooker, with everyone trapped inside, sweating under the heat. Each shift dragged heavier than the last, and the looming shadow of the shiny new competitor down the block hung over them like a thundercloud. The steady stream of customers had become a trickle, and the tension in the kitchen was suffocating, ready to boil over at any second.

For Johnny, it already had.

Y/n could see it in the way his shoulders were constantly tense, in the clipped tone of his voice, and in the sharp, icy edges of his words. He wasn’t just snapping at her; he was snapping at everyone. But somehow, when she tried to help, to take even a fraction of the weight off his back, he shoved her away like her presence was only making things worse.

And those words of his—they stuck. “You don’t understand what’s at stake. You can’t.”

She replayed them more times than she cared to admit, their sting burrowing into her thoughts long after they’d been said. It wasn’t just the frustration in his voice—it was something deeper, rawer. And even though she knew the words were laced with fear, they still cut her.

That afternoon, she found refuge in the break room. Karina, Haechan, and Jeno were already there, each unwinding in their own way. Karina, as always, was the first to pick up on Y/n’s red-rimmed eyes and the tight line of her shoulders.

“Okay,” Karina said, putting her phone down and turning her full attention to Y/n. “Spill. What’s going on?”

Y/n sank into the chair with a heavy sigh, gratefully accepting the cup of tea Karina handed her. “It’s just… impossible. I get that he’s stressed and all, but it’s like everything I do is wrong. I tried to help, and he basically called me useless.”

Karina’s brows knit together, her protective instincts flaring up. “He said that?”

“Not in those exact words,” Y/n admitted, swirling her tea, “but… close enough.”

Haechan, ever the investigator, leaned back in his chair with a sly smirk. “Sounds like someone’s overthinking. Maybe he’s losing his mind because he knows you’re right.”

“Haechan,” Karina scolded in her best mom voice, but Jeno nodded thoughtfully.

“He’s scared,” Jeno said simply, his quiet tone carrying weight. “The way he’s acting? It’s not about you, Y/n. It’s because he feels like he’s failing.”

Y/n frowned, letting his words sink in. “Then why push everyone away? Why make it harder than it already is?”

“Pride,” Karina said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s always been like this. But Jeno’s right—he’s scared. Still doesn’t excuse him, though.”

“Maybe he’s afraid if he apologizes, he’ll start crying,” Haechan quipped, dramatically pretending to sniffle.

Karina shot him a withering glare, but Y/n let out a small, weak laugh, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease just a little.

Meanwhile, in the quiet kitchen, Leeteuk and Heechul had cornered Johnny. His arms were crossed, his face set in a hard line.

“Johnny,” Leeteuk began, his voice steady.

“Whatever you’re doing,” Heechul cut in sharply, “stop.”

Johnny turned away, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what the fuck we are talking about,” Heechul countered, his tone sharp as a knife.

Leeteuk placed a calming hand on Heechul’s shoulder before stepping forward. “You’re snapping at everyone, shutting people out, and now you’re taking it out on Y/n.”

At her name, Johnny’s shoulders went stiff, but he stayed silent.

“Do you really think you’re the only one who cares about this place?” Leeteuk pressed, his voice firm but calm. “Pushing people away isn’t going to solve anything.''

“Newsflash: it’s making things worse. And if you keep this up,” Heechul added harshly, meeting Johnny’s eyes with a steady glare, “you’ll lose more than this restaurant. And you’ll deserve it.”

Johnny’s head snapped up at that, a mix of guilt and defiance flashing across his face.

Leeteuk softened his tone as he stepped closer. “Talk to her, Johnny. She’s not your enemy. None of us are.”

Johnny didn’t respond, but their words lingered, carving deep into his thoughts. He wasn’t sure which fear gripped him harder: losing the restaurant or losing the one person who still mattered to him.

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angie's note: hiiiiiii, please don't kill me for being absent :(((((

022. punching bag w.count: 743

warnings: swearing, (let me know if you find any)

The following week brought a storm that felt otherworldly. Just a block away, a new restaurant had opened its doors, dazzling the area with flashy investments and an overwhelming marketing campaign. At first, only a handful of regulars ventured in out of curiosity, but it didn’t take long for the competition to become impossible to ignore.

The once-bustling restaurant—filled with chatter and laughter—was now eerily quiet. Empty tables stood as a stark reminder of how quickly everything had changed, and the tension in the air was so heavy it felt like it could suffocate anyone who lingered too long.

For Y/n, the shift was undeniable. The once-familiar rhythm of the restaurant—chaotic but manageable—had been replaced by an unsettling silence and a growing pressure that loomed over them all. Every shift felt heavier than the last. Everyone was on edge, weighed down by the uncertainty of a struggling business. Even Johnny, usually the steady rock of the team, seemed to be unraveling. His shoulders were constantly tense, his once-sharp and witty remarks growing more infrequent, the light behind his words dimming little by little.

Y/n threw herself into keeping things afloat, determined to help in any way she could. She bounced between tasks, assisting Haechan with getting clean plates out, reorganizing Jeno’s prep station, and making sure chaos didn’t spill over into the already tense kitchen. But no matter how much she tried, it always felt like the stress was one step ahead, threatening to crush them all. And Johnny—far from the unwavering leader she was used to—seemed to be retreating into himself, becoming increasingly distant.

That fragile truce they’d shared on the rooftop felt like a distant memory, buried beneath the weight of their shared exhaustion.

Then, the breaking point arrived. Out of nowhere, the restaurant was flooded with orders. The sudden rush was a jarring contrast to the emptiness they had grown accustomed to, and no one could keep up. In the middle of the chaos, Y/n made a mistake—something small but noticeable. She delivered the wrong dish to a customer, a careless oversight in the frenzy. It wasn’t a big deal, or at least it shouldn’t have been. But it was enough to shatter Johnny’s already fragile composure.

“Can’t you keep up?” he snapped, his voice cutting through the clamor like a knife.

Y/n froze in place. His words hit harder than she expected—not because of what he said, but because of who said them. She clenched her fists at her sides, biting back the retort that threatened to slip out. She reminded herself of the pressure they were all under, but the sting of his words lingered, settling deep in her chest.

The rest of the night passed in a heavy, uncomfortable silence. When the shift finally ended, Y/n lingered behind in the now-empty restaurant, too drained to move. She leaned against the counter, the weight of endless shifts and mounting stress pressing down on her. She didn’t notice Johnny enter until he was just a few steps away.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

She turned to look at him, her expression neutral. “It’s fine,” she replied automatically, though it wasn’t entirely true.

“No, it’s not,” Johnny admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I just… I don’t know how to handle this. That new place, the pressure—it feels like everything is falling apart, and I can’t stop it.”

“I get it,” Y/n said after a long pause. “I really do. Every day, it feels like we’re just trying to keep our heads above water.”

The silence between them was heavy, filled with all the things they weren’t saying. Y/n could see it in Johnny’s eyes—he wasn’t as unshakable as he let on. He was tired, just like she was. Tired of fighting, tired of losing, but still holding on to whatever small hope remained.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said at last, her voice steady despite the uncertainty. “Like we always do.”

Johnny nodded, a faint, almost forced smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Together.”

As they walked toward their lockers to grab their things, the uncertainty of what lay ahead still loomed large. But for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/n allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they had a chance. They weren’t just coworkers—they were a team.

And maybe, that would be enough to fight for.

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angie's note: heyyy im back! work is stressing the hell out of me but here i am <3

021. the almost kiss w.count:1k

warnings: kys and choke jokes, swearing, (let me know if you find any)

The restaurant was unusually calm. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no avalanche of orders, no angry customers, no chaotic moments threatening to tear everything apart. The peaceful shift provided a much-needed break, and for Y/n and Johnny, it was an opportunity to work side by side without the usual tension that had always hung between them.

Y/n glanced at Johnny from the corner of her eye as she arranged a tray of appetizers. He was focused, head down as he plated dishes with practiced ease. But there was something different today—he didn’t carry the same guarded weight on his shoulders. His movements were fluid, his usual sharp edge replaced by a quiet calm.

To her own surprise, she realized she felt more at ease, too. Somehow, in the aftermath of the storm, the heavy silence that once stood between them had begun to shift. They weren’t friends—at least not yet—but the resentment that defined their every interaction felt less suffocating.

When Y/n placed the finished tray on the counter, she cleared her throat. “Coffee?”

Johnny looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Are you offering?”

She smirked, shrugging casually. “Only because you’re unbearable when you’re tired.”

He gave her a sideways look, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a faint smile. “I’ll take it.”

Y/n disappeared for a moment and returned with a steaming cup, setting it in front of him. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he replied dryly, but the gratitude in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

For the rest of the shift, they found themselves falling into an unexpected rhythm—like the gears of a machine finally clicking into place. Johnny handed her what she needed before she even had to ask, and Y/n stepped in to help him during busier moments without hesitation.

At one point, Johnny even set down a plate in front of her—a spicy dish she’d mentioned liking weeks ago. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Instead, she simply smiled to herself, letting the quiet act speak for itself.

At the end of the week, Leeteuk and Heechul decided to treat the staff to a night out as a thank you for surviving the storm (and the chaos that followed). The entire team packed into a cozy downtown bar, their usual uniforms swapped for casual clothes and easy laughter.

Y/n, Karina, Mark, and Haechan were the first to claim the dance floor, pulling Jeno along despite his half-hearted protests. It wasn’t long before the music drowned out any lingering stress from the week, their laughter echoing above the beat of the song.

Johnny, on the other hand, stayed by the bar with Chris, sipping a drink and watching the team’s antics from a distance. His expression was relaxed, though a touch of his usual detachment lingered.

Eventually, Y/n broke away from the dance floor and wandered over to Johnny-now alone- her cheeks flushed and her smile bright. “Too cool to join?” she teased, leaning against the bar.

Johnny turned his head, giving her a small smirk. “I’m just here to watch you all embarrass yourselves.”

“Right, because standing in a corner is so much better,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t argue, just held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Then, without warning, he set his drink down and followed her as she walked back toward the crowd.

Neither of them danced—not the way the others did, at least. Instead, they hovered at the edge of the dance floor, exchanging quiet remarks as the music blared around them. Their playful teasing felt… easy. Natural. Like the sharp edges of their interactions had finally softened into something real.

Later, when the group began to scatter—some to the bar, others to the booths in the corner—Y/n found herself escaping to the rooftop. The air was cool and fresh, a welcome relief from the noise below. The city stretched out before her, lights twinkling against the dark sky.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard footsteps behind her. “You always disappear when things get loud,” Johnny’s voice broke the quiet.

She turned her head slightly, glancing at him as he stepped beside her, hands in his pockets. “Needed a breather. I guess you did too?”

He nodded, his eyes scanning the view in front of them. “Yeah. Guess I’m not as tough as I pretend to be.”

Y/n chuckled softly, though her smile faded when she looked at him again. He was closer now, close enough for her to see the way the faint glow of the city reflected in his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to come out tonight,” she admitted quietly.

Johnny shrugged, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “Didn’t expect to want to.”

There was something about the way he looked at her—like he was seeing her for the first time, or maybe just letting himself look for real. Y/n felt her heart beat a little faster as the silence stretched between them, heavy with words left unsaid.

Johnny’s eyes flickered to her lips for the briefest second, and Y/n’s breath caught. It was barely a moment, but she felt it like a jolt of electricity—something fragile and real, suspended in the quiet rooftop air.

But then, he stepped back, his expression unreadable. “We should head back. They’ll think we’re plotting something.”

Y/n swallowed, forcing a small laugh to ease the tension. “Right. Wouldn’t want them to think we’re getting along.”

Johnny smirked faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Exactly.”

They made their way back downstairs, the distance between them feeling strange—neither too close nor too far. But as the night carried on, that almost-moment lingered like a dull ache in Y/n’s chest, a reminder of how complicated things between them had become.

And yet, for the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted things to go back to the way they were.

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angie's note: unhinged much??

020. storm pt.2 w.count:843

warnings: swearing, (let me know if you find any)

The next day, the storm hadn’t fully cleared. Rain still drizzled softly against the restaurant windows, and the place felt frozen in time—quiet, empty, like it belonged to a completely different world. The usual hum of conversation and clattering dishes was gone, leaving behind an eerie stillness.

But something had shifted. Johnny and Y/n worked together in sync, their movements smoother, the silence between them no longer sharp or uncomfortable. There was no sarcasm, no pointed remarks. Just a quiet understanding beginning to take shape, like the first signs of a truce.

Johnny stood by the counter, drying a small stack of clean dishes. His movements were unhurried, methodical, but Y/n couldn’t help noticing that he looked more at ease. The tension that had been wound so tightly around him for weeks had softened, just a little. She paused from where she was arranging the tables, hesitating before speaking.

“Johnny,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d intended.

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised slightly in question.

“I… I wanted to apologize too.” She gripped the back of a chair, like it might steady her. “I shouldn’t have let everything build up the way it did. I was stubborn, I know that. But I never meant to hurt you.”

Johnny put down the dish he was holding and turned to face her fully. For a moment, she thought he might brush her words aside, but his expression softened in a way that caught her off guard.

“I didn’t make it easy for you,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “I was holding on to a lot—stuff I probably should’ve dealt with a long time ago. And yeah…” He exhaled sharply, almost like the words were hard to say. “I was scared. Scared to let you in. Scared of what might happen if I did. But that wasn’t fair to you.”

Y/n blinked, surprised by his honesty. It wasn’t the Johnny she was used to—the calm, impenetrable version of him she’d seen day in and day out. This was someone more real, more human.

“I get it,” she said after a beat, her voice a little softer. “Last night, I told you—I’ve been scared too. Scared to let anyone get too close. Especially after everything with my family.” She gave a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I’ve spent so much time trying to prove myself. That I belong here. That I’m more than just Leeteuk’s sister. Like I have to be perfect all the time or I’ll let everyone down.”

Johnny’s gaze didn’t waver. He just listened, really listened, and for once, she didn’t feel the need to hide behind sarcasm or defensiveness.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” he said simply, the words carrying a weight that made her pause. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Y/n looked at him, and for the first time in weeks, the space between them didn’t feel like a battlefield. It felt… calm. Lighter.

“And I don’t either,” he added with a faint smile, like he’d only just realized it himself.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The quiet wasn’t heavy—it was almost peaceful, filled with the soft patter of rain against the windows.

They went back to work, both lost in thought but not in a way that felt distant anymore. Johnny focused on reorganizing the spice rack, his brows furrowed in that same quiet concentration Y/n had come to recognize. She smiled to herself as she wiped down the last table, surprised at how different it felt to be here, in this silence that didn’t sting.

When everything was finally done, Y/n grabbed her bag, ready to leave. She was halfway to the door when Johnny’s voice stopped her.

“Y/n.”

There was something careful about the way he said her name, like he was testing the waters. She turned to face him, curious.

“Yeah?”

Johnny hesitated, his hands still resting on the counter, like he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke.

“Maybe we don’t have to hate each other.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard. At first, she thought he might be joking, but there was something about the way he looked at her—serious, almost hesitant—that made her realize he meant it.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, or a perfectly worded apology. It wasn’t a fix-all solution to everything that had gone wrong between them. But it was something.

A small smile tugged at her lips, tentative but real.

“Maybe we don’t,” she agreed softly.

Johnny smiled back—just a little, like he wasn’t ready to give away too much yet. And that was okay.

As Y/n stepped out into the damp, rain-soaked night, she realized the storm really had passed. The air felt fresh, the silence outside no longer oppressive. They didn’t have all the answers, and maybe they never would. But for the first time in a long time, there was hope—hope that whatever came next, it didn’t have to look like what had come before.

And sometimes, that was enough.

—-

(the texts take place at 9AM of the next day after the storm)

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angie's note: maybe they don't have to hate each other... and make out for once

019. storm w.count: 928

warnings: swearing

The rain pounded relentlessly against the windows, its steady rhythm matching the dull thudding of Y/n’s heartbeat. Outside, the storm roared with a force that felt almost unnatural—wind howling, rain pelting, and thunder rumbling faintly in the distance. Inside, the restaurant sat in heavy silence, stripped of its usual chatter and clatter. Only the dim glow of the emergency lights kept the space from feeling completely abandoned, casting eerie shadows over the empty chairs and tables.

The last customers had left hours ago, and the rest of the staff had practically bolted out the door, eager to get ahead of the worsening weather. Now, it was just Y/n and Johnny left to close up. Leeteuk, ever the pragmatist, had insisted that Y/n stay since she had a car. It wasn’t much of a consolation as she muttered a string of quiet curses aimed at her older brother. Every tick of the clock stretched impossibly long, turning minutes into hours in the oppressive quiet.

Y/n kept herself busy, forcing her attention on the tasks in front of her: mopping the floor, stacking chairs, wiping down counters. Her movements were mechanical, her mind elsewhere, but she was painfully aware of Johnny’s presence in the kitchen. He worked with his usual calm efficiency, scrubbing surfaces and organizing utensils, making sure everything was in place for tomorrow. Every sound—the rustling of cloth, the scrape of metal—echoed sharply in the empty room, amplifying the tension between them.

The silence dragged on until it became unbearable.

“You know…” Y/n finally broke the quiet, her voice softer than she’d intended, barely rising above the rain. “This feels like the longest shift of my life.”

Johnny didn’t look at her, but one corner of his mouth lifted into a faint, dry smile. It wasn’t mocking; it felt more like reluctant agreement.

“The storm makes everything feel slower,” he replied, his voice low as he focused on the pot he was drying. “Though I imagine you’re used to things moving fast.”

The words hit her like a jab to the ribs. She froze for a moment, feeling the weight of what he’d implied. She took a breath, trying to steady herself before speaking again.

“Maybe I’m not used to people assuming things about me that aren’t true,” she shot back, her tone firm despite the slight tremble at the end.

The tension in the air thickened. Johnny finally set down the towel he was holding and turned to face her fully. His shoulders sagged slightly, the exhaustion visible in the lines of his face and the dark shadows under his eyes. For the first time, he looked less like the unshakable Johnny she knew and more… human.

“You’re right,” he admitted, his voice quiet, as though the words were hard to say. “I’ve been… assuming a lot.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. It wasn’t what she’d expected—certainly not from him. For days, they’d been stuck in this unspoken stalemate, avoiding confrontation, avoiding this. But now, something felt different. Maybe it was the storm, or the flickering lights that made everything feel raw and exposed, but for the first time, she didn’t feel the need to guard herself so carefully.

“You never asked me anything,” she said after a beat, her voice rough from all the unsaid words she’d been holding back. “You just decided who I was. I guess that’s easier than trying to really know me.”

Johnny’s gaze dropped for a second, his jaw tensing as if he were working through her words. Finally, he exhaled a slow breath, his shoulders slumping further.

“I was wrong,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable. “I thought I knew everything I needed to know, but I didn’t. I tried to push you away because… I don’t know. I think I was scared. Of what might happen if I let this—” he gestured vaguely between them, as though the space itself carried meaning—“matter too much. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

Y/n felt something twist in her chest at his words. Vulnerable Johnny was not someone she had ever expected to meet. For so long, she had seen him as calm, composed, untouchable. Yet here he was, admitting his fear—his hesitation—in the middle of a storm that rattled the windows and shook the walls. Her instinct was to retreat, to turn away before things got too real. But for once, she didn’t want to run. If they’d come this far, it had to mean something, didn’t it?

“I get it,” she said quietly. “I’ve been so focused on proving that I belong here—that I’m more than just Leeteuk’s sister—that I ended up sabotaging myself.”

Johnny looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the distance between them didn’t seem so insurmountable. His expression softened, as though her words had unlocked something unspoken between them.

Outside, the storm continued to rage, the wind whistling and the rain drumming against the roof, but inside, the space felt still. The silence between them wasn’t heavy anymore; it was calm, tentative. It wasn’t everything—it didn’t fix the things that had been broken between them—but it was something. A beginning.

They stood there for a while, caught in the strange calm of the moment, both of them aware that there was still work to be done—not just here in the empty restaurant, but between them, too. And yet, for the first time, it felt like they’d taken a step forward.

Sometimes, that was all it took to start over.

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angie's note: i think we're getting the hang of this... i think

018. strangers w.count:772

warnings: swearing.

The next few days, Y/n and Johnny moved like complete strangers at the restaurant, carefully avoiding each other whenever possible. The tension between them was so palpable that anyone who worked there could feel it.

Karina and Haechan noticed right away. Karina, ever the determined one, tried to get Y/n to open up. She approached her during breaks, found moments to talk when they were alone, but all she got were forced smiles and quick changes of subject. Y/n clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and while Karina understood that, she wasn’t about to let her friend drown in her own silence.

Haechan, on the other hand, had his own approach. Being the resident joker, he tried to crack jokes whenever Johnny and Y/n were in the same room, hoping to break the tension. But even he, with all his charm and energy, gave up after a few attempts. Every time he tried, Johnny would shoot him a look that practically screamed, "Not now."

“This is bad,” Mark murmured one night as they cleaned the bar.

“Like, end-of-the-world bad,” Haechan added, letting out a dramatic sigh.

“You’re telling me,” Mark agreed. “I miss when they used to tease each other. Now it’s just… ice.”

Meanwhile, Y/n threw herself into her work. She picked up extra shifts, took on tasks that weren’t hers, and did everything she could to keep her mind occupied. She had built a wall around herself, making polite small talk with customers and forcing smiles that never quite reached her eyes. Inside, she was exhausted. Every time she passed Johnny, it felt like a weight settled in her chest, heavy and suffocating. But she wasn’t going to apologize—not when she firmly believed she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Johnny wasn’t doing any better. He had grown colder and more distant, barking out orders in clipped tones and keeping conversations with the staff to the bare minimum. He avoided unnecessary interactions with Y/n entirely. But late at night, when the restaurant was quiet, he’d find himself staring at the door she usually walked through. A strange mix of guilt and something deeper twisted in his stomach, making it harder and harder to sleep.

One night, after closing, Y/n stayed behind to help Karina with inventory. The two of them worked silently in the wine storage room, counting bottles. The quiet was starting to feel suffocating, and finally, Karina broke it.

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck's going on?” she asked, glancing at the list in her hand.

Y/n looked up for a second before quickly focusing back on the numbers. “It’s nothing important.”

Karina set the paper down on the counter and crossed her arms. “It’s clearly important. You’ve been miserable lately. And for the record, so has he.”

Y/n swallowed hard and shook her head. “It’s… complicated.”

Karina’s voice softened as she placed a reassuring hand on Y/n’s shoulder. “Then make it less complicated.”

The words hung in the air, heavy but true. Y/n pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the storm she’d been bottling up for days. Finally, she let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve been trying so hard,” she said, her words trembling. “To prove that I’m not just Leeteuk’s little sister. I want people to see me for who I am, not who they think I am because of him.” Her voice cracked as she continued, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “And him… he just doesn’t seem to care. At all.”

What Y/n didn’t know was that Johnny had been standing just outside the half-open door. He’d come back because he’d forgotten his jacket but stopped in his tracks when he overheard the conversation. Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, each one carrying a weight he wasn’t prepared to confront.

He clenched his fists, guilt clawing at his insides. A part of him wanted to walk in, to say something, anything, to fix things. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned and left quietly, unable to face the truth of what he’d just heard.

The next day, Johnny was even quieter than usual. Haechan noticed and made a passing comment about it, but Johnny ignored him. Y/n noticed too. She saw how his eyes lingered on her just a second too long, how his movements seemed slower when she was nearby. But she didn’t say a word.

The distance between them remained, thick and heavy, but something was beginning to shift. The anger and frustration were starting to fade, replaced by something else. Something neither of them was ready to confront.

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angie's note: poor jeno and his loafers