inactive

When you open a squinting eye, you find yourself peering up at a blinding figure that you can barely make out to be your favorite neighbor, Kim Seokjin. His cheeks are shiny with sweat, and you can see the dark, soaked strands of hair poking out from under his baseball cap - go Cubs! He’s also sporting a fashionable worn out button down with a hole in the arm and an old pair of cargo pants giving its last hurrah. In his hands he’s holding a drink and a paper bag from McDonalds. 

“You wish,” you reply, shutting your lids once more. “Come here with a deliciously garbage meal to tease me?”

“No,” he says, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes with his tone, “To share. Get up.”

You’re not one to skip out on a free meal, especially not at this stage in your life. He outstretches his palm before you can ask and you grasp it appreciatively. He pulls you back up with ease before sitting down himself, criss cross beside you on the grass.

“Sweetened iced tea and a crispy chicken sandwich for you,” he says, pulling the items out of the bag and handing them to you, “coke and a quarter pounder for me.”

“No fries?” you ask.

“Geez, one thing at a time maybe? In the bag.”

It brings a smile to your face immediately, the one that Jin treasures and the only real reason he decided to purchase the extra food anyway. It must be his lucky day, too, because you lean over and peck his cheek as a thank you. He has to look the other way to contain himself. He hopes that if you notice his blushing cheeks, you’ll chalk it up to the heat.

Past the rusted metal fence surrounding your tiny lawn, people are strolling around all around the neighborhood. Mothers pushing their babies in strollers, kids cheering in the street as they play ball, teenagers mischievously weaving between the tightly spaced, beaten down homes that line the street. People trying to get the utter most out of these last warm days, just like you and Jin.

“You working tonight?” he asks, swallowing a bite of his burger and washing it down with a swig of his drink.

“Yeah, shift starts at five. Why’d you ask?”

“Just curious. I just had off today, so…”

So, he wanted to see if you’d maybe hang out with him. But it’s not possible if you’re hosting tables all night, and he doesn’t bother to ask. He’s been meaning to all summer, but he’s chickened out every time. That is, every time he’s tried to tell you he wants to go out as a date instead of as friends, which is where the real task always lies.

“Well, I’m off all of Sunday.”

Unbeknownst to him, you don’t actually have Sunday off. You’ve been working basically every day to try to save up enough money for winter, which seems to come faster and rougher every year you live here. But you wouldn’t mind calling in sick to spend more time with your cute neighbor who buys you food and checks in on you when no one else will.

Truth be told, he’s been looking out for you for years, even back when you didn’t notice it. Since you were kids, he’d stop by on account of “his parents wanted to know…” or something along those lines, dropping off meals or trying to pull you out of your cave for some fresh air. It wasn’t until after high school that you started finding him cute, or hoping for every knock on the door to be him and being let down when it wasn’t.

“Hm, eyelash,” Jin says softly, eyes diverting down to a spot on your cheekbone. You hold still as he swipes it onto his thumb gently and brings it in front of you to see. “Make a wish.”

You take a moment to think carefully, suck in a deep breath, and blow, watching the thin hair float up and soon get lost in the air, out of sight just as quick as it came.

“Whatcha wish for?”

You laugh, shoving another fry into your mouth. “Rain.”

A smile draws up on his lips, nodding heavily. “That’s a good wish.”

☆☆☆

It’s a light tap on your forehead that tugs you from your nap in the grass. At first, your sleepy mind assumes it to be a splash from a hose, maybe the kids fooling around with the sprinkler. But there’s no sound of kids - no sound of anything, actually.

Another plop on your skin has your eyes opening in annoyance. The sky above you is much different to how it was when you last saw it. Where it was previously a crisp blue and crystal clear, it’s now a dreary gray, full of shadowed cotton ball clouds. How long have you been sleeping for?

Your head rolls to the side, blades of grass brushing along your temple. Seokjin is napping like a cat beside you, an arm curled up behind his head to rest his neck. He looks peaceful when he sleeps. Unfortunately, the impending downpour will have to interrupt him.

A careful hand shakes his shoulder as lightly as possible. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” you mutter, your own hands rubbing away the drowsiness from your eyes.

His lids slowly open, mostly likely from a combination of your words and the droplets you can see splashing against his skin. He lets out a groan and makes the move to sit upright. This time, you help him up to his feet, watching as he rises from below you to towering above you.

At the low bellow of thunder, he sighs. “I should probably get home, then?”

“Probably.” You offer a tight lipped smile, wiping rain from your skin as it begins to pick up.

You can’t tell if his hesitation comes from his disorientation of waking up so suddenly or if there’s something else deeper than the surface speaks. A part of you inside really hopes it’s something else, even if you’re not sure you want it.

He reaches down and collects the discarded papers and thin cardboards from your shared meal with nimble, outstretched fingers. He pauses for a second.

“Alright. I’ll… get going then. See you soon?”

He starts to back up, turning on his heel halfway. His strides are slow, almost unsteady on his feet. As his figure gets further and further away, you realize that despite the rain, you really don’t want him to go. You’ve barely spent any time together today - conscious, at least.

“Jin!” you manage to say after a mouthful of quiet sputters.

His head whips over his shoulder to face you. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he’d been waiting for you to say something. “Yeah?” The rain plunks against your skin softly; though the skies have turned grey, Jin is bright as ever.

You open your mouth to say something, but close it when you can’t think of words to describe what you’re feeling. Instead, you walk the few steps it takes to reach him and bring him into a hug, arms reaching up around his neck and squeezing him tight. His reaction time is slow, but still brings what he can of his hands to your waist and hugs you back.

“Thank you, for uh… everything.”

He exhales a huff of laughter through his nose. “No problem, sweetheart.” His embrace is firm and welcoming, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to pull away from something so sweet.

The rain is beginning to pour now, coming down in sheets and sounding out echoes on the rooftops. Your hair is soaking through, as is Jin’s as it sticks to his forehead, along with your clothes which cling to your skin.

When you peel back, you’re stuck in your spot. The rain keeps coming down but neither of you move, too scared to leave but too scared to stay. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips as he looks at you.

“Are...Are we gonna kiss in the rain right now?” you yell over the rumbles of thunder, a smile tugging at your open lips, a breathless laughter bubbling out of you.

“I...” Jin blinks, trying to register if you’re joking or not. He doesn’t think you are. “D-Do you want to?”

Your brows raise faintly. It should be obvious, right?

“Yeah, do you?”

He swallows hard, eyes glancing around the neighborhood to see that everyone has already hurried inside. “Yeah,” he says, head nodding eagerly.

Within a second, your hands are splayed across his chest, his own finding their way to your hips with a firm grasp. Your eyes flutter shut as you close the gap between the two of you, planting your lips gently onto his.

Jin is soft and sweet, moving slow as if to savor you, his entirety consuming your senses. The plush feel of his lips makes your stomach flip and knees weak, yet it’s the boldest you’ve ever been. The delicate tips of your fingers tangle in the hair at his nape as he pulls you in tight - your heart beats out of your chest and for the first time in your life, you think you know what they meant by sparks flying.

You press your body further against him, feeling his fingers curl into the sensitive skin below your waist. Jin tilts his head and adds pressure, seeming to breathe new life into your soul, the feelings once a sapling between two lone neighbors finally blossoming into what it was always meant to be.

You hate to pull away, but you have to come up for air, and probably a change of clothes too. Your eyes open to see him gazing down at you fondly, rainwater decorating his cheeks and soaking his bangs to a dark brown shade. The giddy feeling inside him bubbles up so fast that he has to look to the side to suppress his smile.

A jittery shiver racks through him as the cool precipitation finally seeps to his bones, the abruptness of it making you laugh.

“I... should probably get home, for real this time.” He can’t help it anymore, not while looking at you with unadulterated excitement bursting from the seams. The cutest grin you’ve ever seen grows on his face.

His fingers come up to hold your chin. Shyly, he asks, “I’ll see you Sunday?”

You nod. “Yeah, Sunday.” 

Jin presses one more kiss to your lips and pulls away before you have the chance to drag it out, because he knows he’ll get carried away if he doesn’t. It’s a struggle to tear himself away from you, but he’ll be back soon enough.

For the final time today, he turns around and starts trudging his way home. Of course, when he reaches the gate, he glances back for one last look. It’s only once he’s halfway down the street when you retreat back into your home and let it all register. You can confidently say that you’ve never been more excited for what a Sunday had to offer.

“My problem isn’t with your idea, it’s that you lack the skill to execute it,” you say, tone laced with a stinging indifference as you shake your head, “Someone else would be a better fit to the story.” 

Donghyuck sneers. “Who, like you?”

“Yeah.” You deadpan, continuing to jot notes down on the paper in front of you. “Me, along with a bunch of other people sitting in this room.”

He rolls his eyes, not that you’re looking at him to notice. The snappy demeanor signature to him only builds as your nonchalant tone continues to weave through the argument. “If you’re not writing it and you don’t want to, why do you care?”

“Because what I do care about is the credibility of our magazine and would like to receive better ratings as a whole.”

“And you think I can’t deliver good ratings?”

“No.” A deep sigh escapes you with great emphasis. “I just think you’re a bit of a narcissist to think that you’re a perfect fit for every story and that no one can do it better than you.”

“I never said that someone could do it better than me.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“How am I supposed to know what you mean if you don’t say it?”

“You should check your ego before it lands you in hot water.”

Your hand stops moving. Slowly, your eyes trail up to meet his, swimming with attitude and ready to bite. The other writers in the room watch on, hearts pounding as they wait for your response. They’re already scribbling the conversation down on the corners of their papers, ready to recite to coworkers later on at the water cooler.

“Is that a threat?” you ask, eyes narrowed as your head tilts in inquisition.

He scoffs. “You would know if I was threatening you.”

“That sounds like a threat to me!”

“Okay, stop!”

Doyoung, the managing editor, has had enough for today. His firm tone booms through the room, and Donghyuck’s hands find themselves in a defensive position in front of him while you just pick up your pen again. 

“You guys,” he says, waggling a finger at the both of you, “need to get your shit together. This is preposterous. Next time it happens, I’m calling in HR.”

You push down the smile rising to your cheeks, playing it off as a complacent smirk rather than the genuine entertainment and fun you were having. Moments like these satisfy the star debate student you used to be in high school, and no one counters you better than Donghyuck.

“Okay,” Doyoung sighs, “I believe we can now resume the meeting. Our next topic of discussion will be deadlines, so if any of you…”

Right then, Renjun, one of the staff writers, leans over to Jaemin. He has a certain curiosity swimming in his eyes, one that the other men in the office are quickly growing tired of. “Don’t you think there’s at least a little bit of chemistry there?”

He’s been pushing the idea for weeks, and though Jaemin’s temper is well-managed, it’s starting to prick at his nerves.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, continuing to jot story ideas onto his notepad. He whispers a reply as loud as he can while still being masked by the ongoing meeting. “Dude, they were just verbally tearing each other apart. I wouldn’t call that chemistry.”

Renjun looks over to Jeno, who stares blankly at him once he proposes the idea once again. His brows draw together, mouth pursed in disgust.

“Dude, shut the fuck up.” 

☆☆☆

“Do you really think I’m a narcissist?” Donghyuck pouts, shoving the vegetables into the freezer. You’re still bringing in the last of the grocery bags, setting them down on the counter gently as not to squish anything.

You laugh, admitting, “Maybe a little, but not enough for it to be a problem like I said.”

He smacks the side of your arm, posture sinking as he whines until for you to take it back. His sulking always finds a way to tug at your heartstrings; sharp talons masked with a cute face to distract you, but it’s nothing you haven’t learned to manage. He’s a good actor, especially when it comes to persuading you.

“I just think it was a little harsh,” he mutters under his breath, turning back around to put away the cheese. His posture sinks as he exaggerates his sadness, carelessly tossing bags of shredded mozzarella and sharp cheddar into the crisper.

“You want to see harsh?” you challenge, stopping to face the expanse of his back. “I’ll show you harsh.”

He looks over his shoulder and raises his eyebrows suggestively, a low-lidded smolder plastered on his face. “Is that a threat?”

“Oh, fuck off!” you exclaim, bursting into laughter alongside him. He spins on his heel to swoop you into his arms, planting a firm kiss to your lips. You struggle to keep your smile down, pulling back only to grab the sides of his face to bring him in for another.

“Do you think we were convincing?” he mumbles, pressing tiny kisses up the side of your face.

“Oh, of course.” You finally wriggle yourself out from his grasp, much to his displeasure, resuming your duty of stocking the pantry shelves. “Did you see the look on Taeyong’s face? He seemed scared, like he was about to become a witness to murder.”

“Huh. Maybe we should try that next week.”

“What… killing each other?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. What’s more convincing than homicide?”

Speechless, your eyebrows draw together and your mouth parts in confusion. You look at him incredulously, desperately trying to figure out just how the gears in his brain turn in order to make him come to the conclusions he does. 

He has you beat this time - perhaps as payback for your clear victory at the meeting today. Sometimes, you wonder if he spews out the most bizarre thing he can think of just to shock you out of thinking up a witty response.

“You know what?” you say, defeated, “Sure.” 

Donghyuck breaks into the package of cookies sitting on the counter. You’re about to scold him until he halves it, offering one out to you before you can. Finally, you can sit back and enjoy the evening.

Moments like this with Donghyuck are by far the best in your opinion. After a long day of play bickering and putting on a show, you can live like ordinary lovers and giggle over cookies at 8pm on a Monday. 

Sure, it may be routine at this point, but it simultaneously keeps you on your toes. 

You never know what you’ll argue about, you never know what creative insults he’ll use after storing them in his brain for a week, you never know how far you’ll end up going to keep your relationship a secret from your employer’s strict no-office-romance policy.

“By the way,” you say through a mouthful, “Christmas party next week. What are we doing?”

Donghyuck’s nose scrunches. “What do you mean, “What are we doing?’”

Chewing slowly, you shoot a questioning look his way. “I mean, we have to be careful.”

“In what way?” His expression falls blank as his eyes float around in thought. “All we have to do is take different cars and get there at different times.”

While your boyfriend makes it sound like a piece of cake to keep your secret, the reality is much harder to hear. It’s hard enough to keep your wandering, loving gaze off him from nine to five, and especially to spit flaming hot remarks at him during conversations while you’re sober, but when you’re drunk? Practically impossible. With inhibitions out the window, you might just forget the one stipulation that maintains your job.

“Yeah, but you know how it gets when there’s alcohol involved. We have to keep the act up.”

“Oh please,” he says, waving you off. He shoves another piece into his mouth. “I can keep the act up intoxicated or not. This sounds more like a ‘you’ problem.”

A noise of utter surprise leaves you in a choked huff. “It’s a ‘both of us’ problem if someone finds out.”

He winks, pushing the last crumbly bit past his lips and licking his thumb in a way that says he knows you’re watching. 

“Then don’t let them find out.”

☆☆☆

There are not many things you’ll admit to Donghyuck out of fear of inflating his ego even higher than where it already resides. One of them, especially, is how good he looks in a suit with his hair pushed back. Having to see it every day at work though has helped you build a tolerance. You’ve had practice. 

The fact that you can’t kiss him, though? Now that’s torture.

While your attention is scattered between Donghyuck’s blatant, dripping sex appeal and the conversation you’re attempting to participate in, your boyfriend is completely engaged in his lighthearted exchange with Chenle. You don’t know if you’re just entirely weak to his effortless sex appeal or if you’re lacking in yours.

One of his best assets, or at least your favorite, is out on display and most definitely in order to tease you. His hair is sleek and luxuriant, hinting at a side part with a feather-light bang falling over on half of his forehead. It bounces when he laughs, and he often moves to rake it out of his face even though it falls right back.

His eyes seem to sparkle with how they reflect the colored string lights draped across the room. Nimble fingers find the knot of his tie to tug it loose just a bit, and you immediately regret mentioning how hot you found it one night so many months ago. Of course, he’ll remember those minuscule details that you let slip on a whim, that so easily chip away at your front, but not something as basic as your astrology sign. How perfectly in character of him.

He knows you’re watching by the fleeting tug of his lips he directs at you, meeting your obvious gaze. Donghyuck has a way of making you feel like you’re in high school again and it’s absolutely addictive. It’s like you’re pining after the popular boy who notoriously loves to play games all over again, except at the end of the night, you always win.

It takes far too much mental exertion to tear your eyes away from his godly form, and you internally apologize to Chaeryoung for how distant you are from the conversation. Luckily, she seems to be on a spiel, and your intermittent nods appear to suffice.

Okay, so you’re a little drunk. It’s undeniable, not with how you’re practically salivating over a man you’re trying to pretend you hate with a burning passion. But it’s not your fault! If you could, you would be enjoying the party for everything it is this year - an actual party hall instead of your office cluttered with cubicles and papers, an open bar, a buffet, red and green and gold garland and trees and everything merry you could possibly conjure.

Unfortunately, you can’t, because Donghyuck just looks so-

“Hey, I think Mark is staring at you.”

“...What?” You blink, tearing your gaze away from the bottom of your glass.

“Mark Lee? The new hire? He’s been looking over at you for the past five minutes.”

Bottom lip jutting out in confusion, you ask, “Why? Is there something stuck to me?”

Chaeryoung laughs, covering her mouth with a slender hand. “You’re so funny, Y/n!” She exclaims, unknowing that you didn’t intend to crack a joke. “You should talk to him. He’s cute, right?”

Oh, yeah. People don’t know you’re taken! That’s how you know you’re losing your grasp. The thought grosses you out - not that there’s anything wrong with Mark, he’s a sweet guy, but you have Donghyuck. The problem is that your coworkers, including Mark as it seems, have no clue. As far as they’re concerned, you’re single and have no regard for the guy who’s actually your boyfriend behind the scenes.

And that’s something you can work with.

A sly grin makes a comfortable home on your features. “Yeah, I guess he is,” you trail, throwing him a smile from across the room. Caught, his doe eyes tear away immediately.

As you push your seat out from the table, Chaeryoung stops you.

“Wait, you’re actually gonna shoot your shot? Like right now?”

“Why not?” you say, a flirty grin growing on your lips. “It’s an open invitation.”

Maybe it’s the liquid courage propelling you to step out of your comfort zone, maybe it’s the tension between you and Donghyuck urging you to do something; it might just be a raging cocktail of both. Either way, it launches your body into motion, and as Celebrax may have previously informed you in a more realistic realm of existence, a body in motion tends to stay in motion. There’s no going back now. It carries you all the way across the floor, past your boyfriends scrutinizing stare, right until you’re facing the back of Mark Lee.

You tap lightly on his shoulder, and he acts surprised when he spins much too eagerly on his heel to face you.

“Uh, hey!” he says, hopelessly trying to keep his eyes away from the low neckline of your dress. Ears turning red, he steps away from his friends to talk to you alone. Well, as alone as you can be when surrounded by an ogling office staff of thirty people.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. And you’re Mark?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got the job like last month so I’m still pretty new.”

“Well then hello, Mark,” you purr, “You enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, yeah, it looks really nice this year. A lot better than, uh, last year I guess? ‘Cause you know, I wasn’t an employee…”

Nodding past his utter awkwardness, you continue. “Right? The committee did a great job. Honestly, in this type of setting, I feel way more comfortable with everybody.”

He averts his eyes, looking off into the crowd, thinking of something to say to carry the conversation. When the silence grows for a second too long and lets you know he’s lost for words, you throw him another bone.

“And it’s probably better for you, too, since you can get to know everyone outside of the office.”

“Yeah, like you!” he exclaims, a childlike innocence swimming in his eyes. Seeing it almost makes you feel bad for using him to get at Donghyuck, but then you’re reminded that there is no time to regret it now. “I’ve never really had the chance to talk to you before now.”

“Okay, so tell me what you think.”

“About what?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, locking your lips into a tight smile.

“About me, so far.”

“Oh, well, I think you’re a really talented writer from what I’ve seen around the office, but you seem like you’re really sweet and fun and…” he says, raising up an arm to scratch at the back of his neck, “...pretty.”

Mark Lee is easily flustered and it’s too tempting for you to resist.

Your head tilts to the side. “Only seem like I’m pretty?” you tease.

“No, no, you’re definitely pretty, I just-”

A swoosh of air catches your attention, a body that you know all too well brushing past the both of you in a hurry. Though you haven’t been looking, his motions out of your peripheral have been telling enough. You’ve got him right where you want him. 

“What’s his deal?” Mark asks, eyes wide. “I mean, I know you two have beef but shouldn’t he be nice since it’s Christmas?”

“Yeah, well, he’s got his tinsel in a tangle,” you giggle, turning over your shoulder to watch him walk out the main doors into the lobby. When you face Mark again, you rise to your tippy toes and lean in close, lowering your voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for me.”

He gasps “Really?”

You lower yourself back onto your heels, nodding along with your brows raised.  You’re having too much fun playing this part. “I know it sounds crazy, but you know that stupid thing of how boys are supposedly mean to you when they like you? I think it’s like that.”

He hums in understanding. 

“Hey, what time is it?”

He digs his hand into his pocket in front of you, awkwardly scrambling to fish it from his dress pants. “Uh… quarter after ten.”

“Oh!” you gasp with faked surprise, “It’s later than I thought. I should probably get going soon. But I’ll see you around the office?”

“Yeah, of course!” he nods, following up with a sweet, “Have a good night!”

From then, it’s a quick round of goodbyes, sprinkled with a few memorable hugs to strengthen your alibi if necessary. Carefully, as to not draw attention to the clack of your heels, you make your way to the hall’s exit. After one last scan of the room, you’re out the door. You don’t let your guard down until it’s absolutely safe.

☆☆☆

Ever observant Renjun never fails. As soon as you’re out the door, he’s turning back over his shoulder to further annoy his coworkers.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how the two of them always seem to disappear at the same time?” he asks, eyes narrowed. All he wants is some form of acknowledgement - his instincts never lie. “I think something’s going on.”

Jaemin shrugs unsuspectingly, looking into his cup. “Nah,” he refutes firmly, “Probably just a coincidence. They hate each other, remember?” He takes another swig of punch.

He turns to Jeno for a second opinion, but the other writer has already denied his theories before he can begin, leaving him disappointed yet not discouraged.

☆☆☆

That moment of safety doesn’t end up coming. Instead, you’re walking in circles as you look down at your phone, waiting for a bubble with his name at the top to notify you where he is. Just as you turn the corner, a shadowed figure hidden in a dip in the wall pulls you off your steady pace and into a dusty storage closet, slamming the door behind you.

“Really?” you complain, catching your breath from the scare, “Of all places, this is what you choose?” Bottles on bottles of cleaning supplies stock the shelves and the walls are lined with different tools. There’s a musty scent that tickles your nose in a way you don’t quite enjoy.

“You should be glad I chose a place at all,” Donghyuck snarls. The tiny rectangular window in the corner of the room offers barely any illumination from the outside world, as you’re only able to make out the high points of his face with the dim light.

“I should be glad? Listen, I told you what was gonna happen, so considering I forewarned you, whatever you’re upset about is probably on you-”

Your bold accusation has his hand shooting out to enclose around your wrist, stopping your hands from waving around in front of you as you speak. It makes you stop dead in your tracks. Now that your eyes have adjusted, it’s clear that he’s angry, and not the kind of playful angry you were expecting to walk into. The long breath he takes makes the hairs on your arms stand up. His tone is low and challenging.

“Whatever I’m upset about?”

Oh, he’s mad mad.

“Well, yeah…” you stumble, “You know…”

His eyes widen condescendingly. “Yeah, I do know. But do you?” He cocks his head to the side, daring you. “You were so mouthy just a second ago. What happened?”

He laughs at your avoidance. Gentle yet firm fingers grasp your chin, turning it up to face him. “Mark Lee, of all people. Really trying to hit me where it hurts, huh?”

A laugh more frightened than you’d wish to admit escapes you. “No… just an easy target,” you reassure him.

“I want to believe you so bad, but I’m not buying it this time.” He shakes his head, ingenuine dismay written all over his face. “Let me tell you what’s gonna happen: I’m going to show you why you’re never going to do that again, and you’re not going to make a sound. Understood?”

“Doesn’t that seem a bit… harsh?” you ask, nose scrunching up as you try to ease the tension, splaying your hands over his chest.

It makes him laugh, filled with glee like he is the lucky recipient of the biggest jackpot Powerball has ever had to offer; your ultimate compliance as his fortunate winnings. 

“Yeah, right.” He’ll never let you live it down. “I’ll show you harsh.”

☆☆☆

“Guys, I fucking swear!” exclaims Renjun. He leans into the circle gathered at the water cooler. “There’s no doubt in my mind, there has to be something going on. Even if it didn’t start that way, there definitely is right now. They keep looking over at each other and that is not what people who hate each other do.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Dude, just drop it.”

“Yeah, it’s never gonna happen. You sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist,” adds Jeno. He finishes the last of his drink and crushes the paper cup in his fist before tossing it in the bin. Jaemin follows suit, and they walk back to their cubicles together. Renjun curses after them, huffing as he clocks out and leaves the floor for the day.

“Damn, I guess they’re starting to slack, huh?” Jaemin says under his breath. His eagle eyes land on you so obviously giving Donghyuck a look across the room.

Jeno hums. “You’d think they’d be more careful. It’s been… what? A year, though? I’m sure they’re getting tired.” Outsiders would think the both of you pretty convincing, but having known you so long, the entire office knows the ins to your act. Unbeknownst to you, of course.

Jaemin chuckles. “They’re fine as long as the boss doesn’t find out, though.”

Just then, the boss reveals himself from his small office door, the cheap blinds rattling on top of the glass. He steps out onto the floor, straightening his tie. He then clears his throat and announces, “Donghyuck, Y/N, please come see me.”

The two of you go wide-eyed, slowly standing up and trudging to his office under everyone’s stares. When the door closes behind you two, all the employees look around, meeting one another’s eyes.