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She sees his from across the hall, his hand firmly wrapped around the waist of the girl who looks up at him in pure adoration.
She can feel Q’s eyes on her as she reaches over for a drink, the scrutiny, the worry far too disconcerting as she steals herself to ignore the silent judgement.
The amber liquid is not enough, not with the way he spares a quick glance, his anger so clear that it hurts, and she cannot even bother herself to act interested in whatever it is that Eunice is going on about from her other side.
Her friend eventually seems to take the hint from her lack of normal enthusiasm or perhaps she sees the way her eyes linger on the stellar couple before her and when she retreats, pulling madison and mihee with her, Kitty’s posture loosens, her shoulder’s sagging with defeat.
“Speak with him.” Q voices from her side, and for a moment she glances towards him, watching as Jin rests against his shoulder, his stance radiating his approval at the words his boyfriend speaks.
“He’s angry at me.” She says back, her voice suddenly hoarse and her palms growing clammy.
Q sighs, a sound so gentle yet filled with the weight of everything he isn’t saying. “Yeah, he is,” he agrees, leaning slightly towards her, his voice dropping low enough to ensure no one else overhears. “But you’re hurting Kitty, more than he is right now. You need to talk this out with him.”
She shakes her head quickly, almost as if the movement alone could banish the thought.
Her fingers tighten around the drink in her hand, the cool glass a temporary balm against the heat that’s rising in her chest. “It’s not that simple,” she whispers, her eyes flickering toward Minho again. His hand slides up the girl’s back slightly, a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it feels like a dagger twisting in her chest.
“You have feelings for him Kitty.” Her friend states blatantly as if it’s the same as the answer to 2 + 2. “Stop trying to deny it. To him and to yourself.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She responds tiredly. “I lost him in all capacity that I could have had him.” She turns to look towards the two men at her side.
“Right now his friendship means more to me than anything else. It means more to me than what we could potentially have. I was only trying to look out for him Q. She’s using him, and she’s going to hurt him.” She states breathily, clawing at the drink that she abandons at the looks of pity she garners.
Q exchanges a quick glance with Jin before leaning closer, his tone soft but unwavering. “Kitty, you can’t protect someone who doesn’t want to be protected. You’ve got to let him make his own mistakes, even if it hurts to watch.”
Her jaw tightens as she swallows hard, willing the lump in her throat to dissolve. “She’s going to destroy him.” She states roughly, her tone hardening. “She is going to destroy his family. She’s building them up to make the fall all the more painful.” She glances towards them: they don’t believe her either, and for a moment she struggles to suppress a bitter laugh because this is where it had all begun.
“He’s done so much for me this semester without so much of a complaint. He’s been a steadfast presence, a protector, a voice of reason and you all are asking me not to return that love he has so easily given to me without asking for anything in return.”
“Kitty, no one’s saying you shouldn’t care about him,” Q interrupts, his voice gentle but firm, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. “We’re just saying that maybe you need to figure out what that care looks like now. Because right now, it’s eating you alive, and it’s not doing him any favors either.”
She exhales sharply, her gaze darting back to Minho. He’s smiling now—one of those effortless, dazzling smiles that used to make her feel like she’d stumbled into sunlight after a long winter. But tonight, it feels hollow, like a performance meant for someone else. The girl beside him giggles, leaning into his touch as if she belongs there, as if she has any right to claim him when Kitty knows—knows—that she doesn’t.
“I can’t just stand here and watch him fall on a sword I could have easily moved out of the way,” Kitty mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers tremble as they brush her hair out of her face, and her eyes flicker toward Q and Jin again, searching for…what? Validation? Permission?
Jin finally speaks, his tone calm but laced with an edge of warning. “Maybe the best thing you can do is step back, Kitty. Let him figure this out on his own. Sometimes love—real love—means letting someone fall, even when you want to catch them.”
Her chest tightens at his words, the truth of them sinking in like a stone in her stomach. But she nods nevertheless knowing full well that this conversation won’t end in a way any of them wish.
She turns slightly and catches the sight of Yuri, another mess she had soundlessly made this semester, but her gaze does not linger for long, she offers small clipped words to her friends before her, her hand grazing Q’s bicep gently as she makes her way towards the exit.
Her hands sweep her hair over to one shoulder, a light shiver coursing through her as she steps out alone, having ignored the pleas from her friends to let them walk her back.
The trek is over before she can even make sense of the chaos within her mind, but the sigh of defeat that escapes her lips is apparent enough. The door crashes open then, just as she finishes wrapping her hair into a messy bun.
Stella steps forward her hands tangled into his and for a moment she wishes for the ground to swallow her up. She passes her roommate an uneasy smile, before her gaze finally meets his.
He ignores her and she sidesteps to avoid the suffocation she feels.
The air in the room feels stifling as Kitty squeezes past them, her steps quick but unsteady. She doesn’t look back, doesn’t dare risk another glance at the way Minho’s hand clings to Stella’s like an anchor. Her breath hitches as the door swings shut behind her, cutting her off from the gathering and plunging her into the cool quiet of the hallway of their dormitory.
Her footsteps echo faintly against the marble floors, the heels of her shoes clicking rhythmically, a sound that fills the silence, but offers little comfort. Her mind races with a dozen thoughts—what she should’ve said, what she should’ve done, all the ways she could’ve rewritten the way they’ve ended up here.
But none of it matters. Not really. Not when the weight of his indifference presses against her chest like a heavy stone.
And whilst her and Julianna may not be on the best terms, they seems to have a common enemy in the form of their Ohio roommate, so before she can feel a penchant of regret she steps into the latter’s room and occupies herself in getting out of her tight navy dress.
She’s free quicker than she expects and as she pulls the oversized hoodie she may or may not have stolen from him whilst they had been living together, she all but collapses into the free bed devoid of a mattress protector and duvet. The bed she had unwittingly stolen from Yuri. A hand rubs against her temples at the thought. Her nose burying itself into the top of the hoodie she comes to inhale in an attempt to calm herself.
She wants to cry, but the tears won’t come. Instead, her throat burns, her chest heaves, and she feels like she’s been hollowed out.
A knock at the door startles her, and for a moment, she freezes. She isn’t ready to face anyone—not Q, not Jin, not Yuri. But the knock comes again, sharper this time, and she forces herself to stand.
Her feet carry her to the door like she’s on autopilot, and she pulls it open, bracing herself for whoever might be standing there.
It’s Minho. Because of course it is.
His hair is slightly disheveled, his jaw tight, and his eyes—dark and unreadable—lock onto hers. For a moment, neither of them speak, the silence between them stretching taut like a rubber band ready to snap.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asks, her voice low and strained. She hates how small she sounds, hates how he has this power over her even now.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “We need to talk.”
Kitty hesitates, her hand still gripping the edge of the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Too bad,” he retorts, his voice clipped. “Because I’m not leaving until we do.”
Her fingers tighten on the doorframe, her resolve wavering as she takes in the determined set of his jaw, the fire simmering behind his eyes. He’s angry—she knows that—but beneath the anger, there’s something else. Something raw and unspoken that twists in her chest.
“Fine,” she says quietly, stepping back to let him in.
Minho strides past her, his movements sharp and purposeful. He stops in the center of the room, his back to her, and she closes the door with a soft click before turning to face him, watching as he shrugs out of his suit blazer with a grace that had her stomach tighten with a flicker of desire that is so misplaced for the storm she can feel is moments away from raging.
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost trembling with restrained emotion.“What the hell was that, Kitty?”
She blinks, caught off guard by the question. “What was what?”
He turns to face her then, his eyes blazing. “Don’t play dumb. The looks, the whispers, the way you’ve been acting. What’s your problem with Stella?”
Her heart sinks, and she struggles to find the words. “I don’t have a problem with her,” she says quietly, though her voice lacks conviction.
“Bullshit,” Minho snaps, taking a step closer. “If this has anything to do with what you ambushed me the other day with Covey, then you need to let it go.” She says nothing for a moment, her hands crossing over her chest momentarily and she sees the frustration bleed through his eyes at her feigned nonchalance.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were glaring at us tonight.”
“I wasn’t glaring,” she protests weakly, her arms wrapping tighter around herself as if to shield her from his intensity.
“Yes, you were!” he shoots back, his voice rising slightly before he catches himself. He takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he tries to rein in his temper.
“Minho, why does it even matter to you?” Kitty finally snaps, the exhaustion in her voice outweighing any attempt to sound composed. “Why do you care if I was glaring or not?”
“Because you’re lying,” he says sharply, his eyes narrowing as he takes another step closer. “And you’re not even good at it, Kitty. You think I don’t know you by now? You think I can’t tell when something’s wrong?”
She opens her mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Her hands fall to her sides, fingers curling into fists. “I’ve made my stance on this, on her, clear Minho. You’re the one not listening.”
“Ah yes, your theory that she’s out to get me. To ruin me and my family.” He retorts snidely.
“She’s behind Moon Leaks.” She states firmly and his anger is simmering too dangerously at her words and her tone.
He ets out a bitter laugh, his disbelief cutting through the air like a blade. “Moon Leaks? You’ve got to be kidding me, Kitty. Do you even hear yourself right now?”
Her jaw tightens, and she takes a step closer, meeting his glare head-on. “I’m not kidding, Minho. She’s using you, manipulating you, and you’re too blind to see it.”
“And you’re too obsessed with this idea that everyone is out to ruin me!” he fires back, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea how insane you sound right now? Stella has done nothing but—”
“Exactly!” Kitty interjects, her voice trembling with frustration. “She’s done nothing. Nothing that isn’t calculated, nothing that isn’t part of her perfect little act. And you’re just letting her wrap you around her finger because it’s easier than facing the truth.”
Minho steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he looms over her, his dark eyes searching hers for something—an answer, an explanation, anything. “What truth, Kitty? What truth do you think you have that I don’t?”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she falters. The words are right there on the tip of her tongue, but the weight of them feels impossible to bear. “The truth that she’s going to hurt you, Minho. That she doesn’t care about you the way you think she does.”
He scoffs, his laugh bitter and sharp. “And you do, right? That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You care so much that you can’t stand to see me happy with someone else.”
“That’s not—” she starts, but he cuts her off.
“Admit it, Kitty,” he presses, his voice low and dangerous now. “Admit that this isn’t about Stella or Moon Leaks or whatever conspiracy you’ve cooked up in your head. Admit that this is about you and me.”
Her chest tightens, and she feels the sting of tears threatening to spill, but she refuses to let them fall. “You don’t get to do this, Minho,” she says, her voice cracking. “You don’t get to turn this around on me like I’m the villain for trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what, Kitty?” he demands, his voice rising again. “From someone who actually gives a damn about me? From someone who isn’t constantly pushing me away or making me feel like I’m never enough?”
The words hit her like a slap, and she takes a shaky step back, her arms wrapping around herself again. “That’s not fair,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“No, what’s not fair,” Minho bites out, “is you standing here, pretending like you don’t care when everything about you screams the opposite. You think I don’t see the way you look at me? The way you react every time Stella’s around? You’re not subtle, Kitty.”
Her lips tremble, and she looks away, unable to meet his gaze. “You’re wrong,” she says weakly, though they both know it’s a lie.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he takes a step back. “Maybe I am,” he says bitterly. “But at least I’m not the one lying to myself.”
The silence between them is deafening, heavy with all the things they can’t say and all the things they already have. Kitty feels like the ground has been ripped out from under her, and for a moment, she wonders if she should just let him walk away. Let him leave and never look back.
But when she finally looks up, the vulnerability in his eyes stops her cold. Beneath the anger, beneath the frustration, there’s something raw and aching—something that mirrors the pain in her own chest.
“Minho…” she starts, her voice barely a whisper.
“Save it, Kitty,” he says, his tone cutting but his eyes betraying his hurt. “If you can’t be honest with me, then there’s nothing left to say.”
And with that, he turns on his heel, heading for the door. Kitty watches him go, her heart pounding in her chest, every fiber of her being screaming at her to stop him. But the words won’t come, and by the time the door slams shut behind him, she’s left alone with the silence and the weight of everything unsaid.
Things seemingly go from bad to worse from there on out. She tries to speak with him again, calmer this time, but he shuts her out and avoids her like she’s carrying the plague.
His avoidance pricks her heart, and as she stands near him, his cologne assaulting her as she attempts to focus on the stuttering answers that fall from a flushed Dae, she does not know where to look.
The bell rings suddenly and Dae walks away like he has something to figure out and as she turns, Minho attempts to leave as well. She’s standing before him, her head raised and neck angled to meet his gaze.
“You cannot still be mad at me.”she rushes out, the words tumbling from her lips as she attempts to stop his escape with her body.
“You were way out of line covey.” He responds and she denies that the husk to the words he says does not set her aflame.
“Minho your family is in real danger. You are in a fake relationship.” She cuts in, as he moves to step away.
He turns back towards her. “You sound absolutely mad right now.” She recoils at his words. “Listen, until you can admit that you are wrong about Stella, you and I have nothing to talk about.” He walks away from her then, and her eyes close in a moment of unrelenting pain.
She stands frozen in the hallway, the weight of his words crashing into her with the force of a storm. His voice still lingers in the air, each syllable like a nail in her chest. You and I have nothing to talk about.
Her fingers tremble as they brush against the doorframe, grounding herself in the only thing left—her own breath, shallow and uneven. She can feel the sharp sting of his dismissal, the emptiness settling in her stomach, like a wound that refuses to heal. She presses her palm against the cool wood, trying to hold herself together, but the cracks are starting to show.
His footsteps echo faintly as he walks away, each step like a reminder of the space between them, the distance that has grown too wide to bridge.
But still, she can't let him go.
She takes a shaky breath, her heart pounding against her ribs, and in a moment of desperation, she calls out to him.
"Minho!" The word is a whisper, but it slices through the air like a plea.
He halts, his back still turned to her, but his shoulders tense, the smallest of pauses hanging between them. She feels it—a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll turn around, that he’ll listen to her, even if it's just for a moment.
But then, slowly, he keeps walking.
She watches him leave, each step like a betrayal she can't quite process, until the door to the building slams behind him with a finality that rings louder than any words they’ve exchanged.
And she's left in the silence again.
Her only solace comes days later when her cousin finally reaches out to her, yet she sits under scrutiny uncomfortably as they attempt to navigate the mess their parents had started. There is nothing for a fleeting moment yet Jiwon eventually comes through and they begin planning an ambush. She never learns.
Her great aunt is angry, and whilst she does not understand the words, the tone is one she is familiar with. Her chest rises sharply, her eyes wavering as she looks between her great aunt and cousin, and then suddenly she can breathe again.
He steps forth as dashing as always, bowing and smiling bashfully at the vegetable lady and her great aunt who turns her ire to him. But he sets her up, and as the elderly lady gives her a bag to carry, he walks away quickly, saluting her as she grows to smile at him.
She turns then, and as she scampers along the aisle of veggies, eventually a truth comes to light that sets up the reunion that her mother’s death had left incomplete.
In the evening after she’s spoken to Margot and LJ, she busies herself with getting ready for the cherry blossom ball. Mihee and Madison have gone all out, if their conversations are anything to go by, and as she finishes of the last of her curls, she separates her burgundy brown hair into two sections, bringing them forth to frame her chest.
She smooths out the scarlet satin with her hands, settling the white and black corsage against her wrist and when she finally looks at herself in the mirror, she is pleased for a fleeting second.
She hears Julianna call out to her that Q is hammering away at the door and as she half walks, half runs to the door in her heels, she knows she takes all three boys by surprise.
“Girl you look hot.” The latter exclaims as Dae passes her sheepish smile with a compliment that she musters a thank you for.
They lead her out with a quick goodbye to her only sane roommate who waves whilst glancing towards her phone, stating that she will be right behind them soon enough.
The walk is tedious in her heels, but Q and Jin each allow her to slip her hands onto their arms and it’s enough to ease the strain of the walk.
Yuri greets them with a smile that she is still able to read between, and for a moment Katherine Song Covey feels her guilt return in tenfold; yet she alone was not responsible for that kiss, and any hopes or dreams of a future with the girl before her had been dashed unceremoniously.
She steps away from Q and Jin and their offer for her to dance with them, finds a corner that is perfect to wallow in and prays to god that Madison had some how succeeded in slipping some alcohol into whatever red concoction is before her. She is disappointed. Sorely.
She turns then, catches the sight of him, and of course he has to look perfect in his black and white tux that fits him all too well. The burst of petals around him erupts so perfectly in symphony with a song she had claimed as her favourite months ago and she knows she’s never recovering from this. From him.
The music floats through the air like a quiet hum, but to Kitty, it’s nothing more than the sound of her heartbeat, frantic and loud, in her ears. The crowd swirls around her, lost in the celebration, while she stands in the corner, trying to gather her thoughts.
She wants to look away, to tear her gaze from him, but she can't. He’s always been this way, effortlessly pulling her in, and every damn time, she falls for it, even when she claims it’s not true.
She turns away eventually, a heavy sigh escaping her coated lips when she sees Q approach him and she knows instantly what her best friend is playing at before he even forms words.
She settles on chugging the slightly bitter drink before and then she hears him.
“Covey.” She turns instinctively, his eyes are softer, kinder, and so much like the Minho she has grown accustomed too.
“You look…” his gaze makes her shiver, as it darkens. “Pathetic.” He says gently, and she cannot hold back the laugh that he so effortlessly brings out of her.
“So do you.” She says back and it lacks its usual bite yet he laughs and extends his hand. “Dance with me.” He states gently.
“Why would we do that?” She responds, perhaps a little too defensively.
“Because we’re at a dance silly.” He says then, his head dipping slightly and she fights the instinct to brush her fingers through his slick hair. “And because I know you love this song.” Her heart skips a beat and her hand slips into his own as he leads her to the floor.
Her eyes catch Q for a moment and the smile he wears is telling enough about the stories he is cooking in his mind, but she does not have the time to break whatever fantasy is spewing…not when she’s grasping onto it for dear life.
She settles her hands at the base of his neck. A nervous chuckle escapes the reformed playboy before his hands trace her waist, settling on her hips before one moves to her lower back as if to keep her in place.
Her chest brushes into his, and for a moment, the world falls away. The music, the crowd, everything melts into the background as Minho’s presence consumes her. His touch is electric, like a spark igniting a fire she’s tried to suppress for so long. The rhythm of the song guides them, but it’s the tension between them that leads the way.
He moves with a fluidity that makes her pulse race, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly, as if he’s afraid she might slip away.
Kitty swallows, the air between them thick with unspoken words, unresolved feelings. She feels his breath against her ear as he leans in, and her breath catches.
“You’ve always been too easy to read,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, yet there’s a vulnerability in it that she hasn’t heard before.
“Maybe it’s because you’re the only one who pays attention,” she replies, her own voice shaky, betraying her calm façade. She keeps her eyes trained on his, searching for a crack, something—anything—that might indicate what’s really going on inside his head.
But Minho doesn’t falter. He keeps his gaze steady, his hand brushing lightly over the curve of her waist, sending a jolt through her.
Her heart races, a thousand thoughts swirling in her head, but before she can respond, the music shifts, and suddenly, they’re no longer in their own world. The dance floor pulls them back into reality, and she feels the weight of everything they’ve been through, everything they haven’t said, pressing on her chest.
She steps back, just enough to break the contact, but his hand remains on her waist, grounding her.
“Minho…” she starts, but the words fail her. She doesn’t know where to begin. How can she explain all the feelings she’s been burying? How can she say what’s been on her mind for so long when every time she tries, he pulls away?
“You don’t need to say anything,” he says, his voice tight, as if he’s struggling with the same internal battle. “I just… I just want you to know I’m here. No matter what.”
Kitty’s breath hitches at his words, at the sincerity she hears in them, and it’s enough to shatter whatever wall she’s been trying to build around herself. But she doesn’t know how to let herself fall, how to trust that this time, it won’t hurt.
“Thank you.” She finally whispers breathlessly. “I got through to my great aunt today because of you.” He glances down at her as he sways her to the soft beat.
“I know you would have managed it without my help.” He says and the nagging in her heart returns.
“I also owe you an apology. I was wrong about Stella and I am sorry. You mean more to me than being right Minho.” His gaze softens at her words.
“And I miss you.” She breathes softly, the confession leaving her breathless.
He freezes, his fingers stilling on her waist. The words hang between them like an unspoken truth, heavy and raw. For a moment, Kitty wonders if she’s gone too far, if she’s revealed more than she meant to, but then his eyes soften—just enough for her to see the crack in his armor.
He exhales slowly, his thumb brushing across her skin in a movement that is almost tender.
But the moment comes to an end at the call of his name and both of them are turning as his girlfriend steps forth dressed like a panther. She stalks closer and his hands retract from her waist, her own falling away from his neck, grazing his shoulders before they fall completely to her side.
“You won’t mind if I dance with my boyfriend would you kitty?” Her brain takes a moment to process the question, but she smiles and shakes her head negatively before words seem to catch up with her.
“No, of course not.” This smile is definitely a grimace she can’t help but think as she steps away from the floor, feeling the heat of his stare burn her.
She takes a few unsteady steps away, her chest tight as she watches Minho’s girlfriend step into his arms, her fingers trailing possessively along his jawline. The music continues to play, but the sound is muffled, drowned out by the chaos inside her head.
She should leave. She should walk away, leave them to their perfect little world where she’s just a shadow in the background. But her feet won’t move. The floor feels like it’s spinning, pulling her back to the spot where she just stood in his arms, where things almost felt right.
She breathes in deeply, but it does nothing to quell the growing knot in her stomach. Her eyes flicker between them, and Minho’s face is unreadable—neutral, even, as he locks eyes with his girlfriend. Kitty’s heart clenches painfully, the realization slamming into her: she’s fallen for him, not even a little bit or a lot, just completely and utterly.
The realisation is unsettling and she turns away, her head shaking slightly and with her back to them, she does not see or even hear the confrontation that spills between Stella and Minho but days later she’s catching the frosty aftermath standing between Dae and Q who watch Minho with concern.
“She didn’t even take off her shoes!” Q exclaims dramatically, and she knows the situation is anything but funny, yet a snort escapes her lips regardless.
“And he passed off his usual collagen water for that synthetic crap that you drink!” Dae chimes as Q deadpans even more dramatically.
“And not to kick a man when he is down but his skin is giving major Edward Cullen vibes and not in the good way.” Her head drops slightly at that, because if she’s being honest she had noticed the way he had caved in on himself. He had smiled at her moment prior when she revealed her success with Margot and her grandmother coming down to reunite with her great aunt but it had fallen at the look Stella had given him.
“You don’t think Stella—” Q begins.
“No.” She cuts in. “I was wrong about her Q.”
Q raises an eyebrow, his lips pursed as he studies her. “Okay, so maybe you’re wrong about Stella. But you’re not wrong about him.”
Kitty doesn’t respond right away. She focuses instead on the edge of her socks, tracing patterns into the floor as if it might offer her an escape from the direction this conversation is going.
“Kitty.” Dae’s voice is softer now, but there’s an edge of urgency in it. “He’s not okay. You see that, right?”
Of course she sees it. It’s impossible not to. The sharp lines of his jaw seem deeper, his usual cocky confidence dulled into something hollow. But she doesn’t want to admit it—not to them, and definitely not to herself.
“It’s not my business,” she says finally, the words tight in her throat. “He has Stella. She’ll take care of him.”
Dae looks at Q, and Q rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Stella? Really? You think she’s going to be the one to pull him out of this funk?”
Her chest tightens. She doesn’t know what she believes. All she knows is that Minho has a girlfriend, and whatever happened between them on that dance floor—whatever almost happened—doesn’t matter.
Q leans closer, dropping his voice conspiratorially. “You know, for someone so smart, you’re really dumb sometimes.”
Her head snaps up, her brows furrowing in irritation. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Q crosses his arms, tilting his head like he’s daring her to argue. “Do you honestly think he looked at Stella the way he looked at you that night?”
Her breath catches, but she refuses to let it show. “It doesn’t matter how he looked at me. He chose her.”
“Maybe because he thinks you don’t feel the same way.” Dae’s voice is so quiet it almost gets lost in the space between them.
Kitty’s stomach twists. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Q presses. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re both too scared to admit how you actually feel.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out. Instead, the memory of Minho’s hands on her waist, the warmth of his touch, and the way his voice softened when he spoke to her flood her mind.
“I can’t—” She starts, but Q cuts her off.
“Yes, you can,” he says firmly. “The question is, will you?”
Her heart pounds as she looks between them, her best friends who always seem to know her better than she knows herself.
“I’m not getting involved Q. I nearly lost him last time. I can’t do that again, I won’t. He knows I’m here if he needs me, just like you guys are there for him too, but I cannot make this my business, not when I have only just got him back.”
The silence that follows Kitty's words is heavy, punctuated only by the muffled sounds of students milling about in the distance. Q and Dae exchange a glance—equal parts frustration and understanding—but neither pushes her further. It’s clear they want to say more, but they know Kitty well enough to recognize when she’s set a boundary, even if it’s one she might regret later.
Q, never one to let a moment linger for too long, claps his hands together, breaking the tension. “Alright, well, this has been sufficiently depressing. I’m calling for an emergency bubble tea run because we all clearly need it.”
Dae lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Sounds about right. Kitty, you coming?”
She hesitates, glancing toward the room where she knows Minho might still be. The pull to check on him is undeniable, but so is the fear that seeing him will undo everything she’s trying to keep bottled up.
“Maybe later,” she murmurs. “I have some things to finish up first.”
Q narrows his eyes at her, his expression skeptical but ultimately resigned. “Fine, but you’re missing out. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re drowning in FOMO later.”
She musters a weak smile as they turn to leave, their voices fading into the distance.
Once she’s alone, the weight of everything comes crashing down on her. Her chest feels tight, her thoughts swirling like a storm she can’t control.
Her feet take her to his door and it opens in time almost too perfectly. “You okay?” She asks.
His gaze softens and there is a fondness in his gaze. “I am covey.”
“You’re so sweet Kitty.” She hears, as Stella steps around practically towering over her. “But perhaps you should be worrying about yourself instead of my boyfriend.” The possession does not escape her.
“Stella back off.” He growls and Kitty takes a step back, passing them both an uneasy smile before turning to leave just as quickly as she came.
She finds herself occupied with Dae’s rehearsal’s, barely catches a glance of him as they move past each other but something is so irrevocably off, that it hurts.
Dae comes to her tense and moments a way from a breakdown and it does not take a genius to work out Stella’s angle in the messing of his visuals and his backing track.
A curse slips from her lips as she turns to leave Dae with nothing but a promise that she would fix whatever this is, and for a moment she has to pause to figure out where to start.
She tracks him down eventually, hauling him behind one of the many curtains on the production, and she watches as he finally confesses to the truth; that she had been right about Stella all along.
The feeling of being right does not do her any good, not when she sees the anguish in his eyes so clearly, and she knows he’s hiding something else from her, but she places that knowledge on the back burner and launches into her fixer/healer personality.
It’s takes a lot but they manage it, her mind is working on pure steam, and with her trap in place, Dae’s moment saved, she finds herself breathing a little easier, even as she stands in front of Stella.
Minho seems to anticipate the level of anger radiating from her, discreetly stepping in front of her in an attempt to keep her from drop kicking his girlfriend or ex-girlfriend at this point, as she had promised.
Mr Moon takes over and deescalates the situation even as Minho stands awaiting his own answers, and as they turn away, a heavy silence between them. She is the first to break through the silence.
“What else did she have on you?” She asks then, her voice barely above a whisper, and as she glances towards him, she sees a familiar tick in his jaw, as his gaze filters away from her own.
“Your family have never meant that much to you Minho. Her threat on them would not have been enough of an incentive to bring you to your knees. So what was it? What did she hold against you?” She can see him fight against answering but she pushes until he gives.
“You!” He growls then, and a shock births against her features. “She threatened you.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, all the words in her head disappear. She blinks, staring at him as if the weight of his confession has shifted the entire world beneath her feet.
“Me?” she echoes, her voice small, disbelieving.
He turns his face away, jaw tight, shoulders tense. “She knew,” he mutters. “She figured it out. How I—how I feel about you. And she used it.”
She feels like she’s forgotten how to breathe. The air around them is thick, suffocating, as if the space between them is filled with all the things they’ve left unsaid. Her pulse pounds in her ears.
“She said if I didn’t stay with her, if I didn’t do exactly what she wanted, she’d make sure your life here would be a living hell. She planted evidence on your laptop to frame you for Moon Leaks.” He sighs roughly.
Her breath stutters, her mind reeling as she tries to process what he's just said. The weight of his words, the depth of his actions—it’s too much. She takes a step back, needing the space to think, to feel, to do anything but drown in the intensity of the moment.
“You stayed with her... because of me?” she whispers, her voice trembling.
He doesn’t look at her, his eyes fixed on the ground. “What choice did I have?” His tone is raw, filled with a bitterness that doesn’t seem directed at her but at himself. “I couldn’t let her ruin you. Not when I knew I could stop it.”
She shakes her head, her hands gripping the hem of her jacket as if it might steady her. “Minho, you should have told me. I could’ve handled it—I could’ve helped.”
“You don’t get it, Kitty!” His voice rises, frustration cracking through. His gaze snaps to hers, and for the first time, she sees the storm raging behind his usually calm exterior. “I didn’t want you to handle it. I didn’t want you to have to fight for yourself because of me. She was targeting you because of me.”
Her lips part to respond, but the words don’t come. Instead, all she can think about is the way his voice shakes, the way his fists clench at his sides, the way his eyes—filled with something between guilt and desperation—plead with her to understand.
“You didn’t have to sacrifice yourself for me,” she says finally, her voice soft but firm.
“You didn’t have to carry all of this alone.”
He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “And what was I supposed to do? Watch her tear you apart? Let her destroy everything you’ve worked for here? You don’t deserve that, Kitty. You’ve been through enough.”
Her chest tightens painfully at his words, the sincerity in them cutting deeper than she expects. “And you think you deserve it? You think it’s okay for you to suffer, as long as I’m fine?”
His jaw works, but he doesn’t answer. His silence speaks volumes.
“I never asked for you to do this,” she presses, taking a step closer. “I never wanted you to hurt yourself for my sake.”
“It’s not about what you wanted!” he snaps, his voice breaking at the edges. “It’s about what I couldn’t stand to lose.”
The air between them stills, the weight of his admission hanging heavy. Kitty feels her pulse quicken, her thoughts tangling together as she processes the raw vulnerability in his voice, in his words.
“You’ve been protecting me this entire time, when you have given me hell for simply doing the same, for trying to look out for you?” She chokes out, and he watches her with a pain she can feel so rawly. He moves forth but her palm raises to halt him in his pursuit.
It doesn’t work. He doesn’t stop, and he’s holding her by her arms, tilting her chin to bring her gaze back to him.
“I should have listened to you and I didn’t Kitty. You kept warning me, and I ignored every word you said. I landed us in this mess and I sure as hell was not going to drag you further into whatever destruction she wanted to reap against my family and I.” Her head shakes as she tries to pull herself from his embrace.
“You should have let me help you.” She states, still attempting to extract herself from his hold. “You’ve protected me so much Minho, stood by me through every moment good and bad, and you robbed me off doing the same for you.” She shoves his chest roughly then, fighting against him in a display of anger that has her hair dancing in the wind.
“Katherine enough!” He calls out roughly, the husk of her name, the slight growl of the syllables stilling her instantaneously.
Her breath catches at the sound of his voice—low, commanding, and desperate all at once. She freezes, her arms still raised mid-struggle, her chest heaving from the effort of both fighting him and holding herself together. His grip on her arms softens, but he doesn’t let go, his fingers curling gently around her elbows as though afraid she’ll bolt if he doesn’t anchor her there.
“Will you just listen to me for a second?” he pleads, his tone no longer sharp but frayed at the edges, raw with vulnerability.
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, her eyes dart between his, searching for something—answers, maybe, or a reason not to hate him for making choices that weren’t his alone to make. “You should have told me. You should have told us.” She corrects. “Dae and Q have been beside themselves, noticing how off you were, hell even Yuri clocked and she can barely stand you!”
Minho lets out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Yuri clocked it, huh? Guess I really dropped the ball if even she noticed." His voice is tinged with self-deprecation, but there’s no mistaking the tension in his frame, the way his hands tremble slightly as he finally releases her arms.
She glares at him, arms crossing tightly over her chest. "This isn’t funny, Minho. You shut everyone out. You let Stella control you like a puppet because you thought you could handle it all on your own."
His jaw clenches at her words, and for a moment, the cocky, unbothered Minho she’s so used to resurfaces, his chin lifting as if to shield himself from the sting of her accusations. But it doesn’t last. The cracks in his armor are too deep now, and she can see the pain in his eyes, even as he tries to mask it.
“We aren’t going to see eye to eye on this Covey.” He says finally, a heavy breath escaping him.
“Because you’re too goddamn stubborn that’s why!?” His eyes narrow at her words.
“Oh that’s rich coming from you! Your name is in the damn dictionary under the word.” She splutters in defence, and it is then that there is finally a crack.
The laughter that takes them hostage is untamed, but when it settles a sense of ease settles back over them.
“I’ve missed you Covey.” He whispers out, and she crashes into his chest at the words, her hands wrapping around him tightly. His lips graze her forehead in a soft kiss, his hand tangling with her curls as he holds her against him.
Her breath steadies as his arms wrap securely around her, grounding her in the moment. She feels the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek and closes her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of his embrace.
The words almost slip from her lips then, but they don’t, not when she can still see him reeling from the aftermath of Stella Shim, instead she wraps her hand around his bicep, laughs to whatever he says, far too lost in his side profile to be paying attention.
They rejoin their little group, their founded family, and as her hand slips away and she settles amongst the girls: she watches him for a moment longer.
Maybe it’s not their time. Not yet, but he has her heart, even if he does not know it.