Summary: A summer trip was supposed to be an escape, until everything finally broke. After months of shrinking under Gabriela’s cruelty, you find safety in the people who love you… and something unexpectedly tender in Sophia’s quiet, steady care.
Author’s note: English is not my first language. Angst.
It started so gradually you almost didn’t notice.
Freshman year had been loud and bright and overwhelming in the way college always is, new buildings, new schedules, new people who slowly became familiar. Somehow, somewhere between late-night study sessions and chaotic cafeteria dinners, the group formed.
Megan was the first one you spoke to in class, sliding into the seat beside you with an easy grin and asking if you understood anything from the lecture (you didn’t). Yoonchae joined next, shy at first but quietly funny once she warmed up. Lara and Daniela met you all through a shared project. Manon through Lara. Gabriela through… coincidence.
Sophia came last.
She transferred into your program halfway through the year and walked into the classroom like she’d always belonged there, relaxed, confident, smiling at everyone like they were already friends. She ended up sitting beside you only because it was the only open seat left.
“Hi,” she’d said softly, setting her notebook down. “I’m Sophia.”
You’d introduced yourself, a little awkward, a little flustered. She’d smiled warmly anyway.
That was the first moment.
You and Gabriela got together during the second semester.
At first she was charming, confident, funny, bold in a way you admired. She liked that you were gentle and attentive. You were the exact opposites of each other. She said you balanced her out.
But slowly, things changed.
It started as teasing.
“You’re so clumsy,” she’d laugh when you bumped into a chair.
“You’re hopeless with directions,” when you got lost on campus.
“Honestly, what would you do without me?”
It always sounded playful enough that you laughed along.
Until the jokes sharpened.
One afternoon in the library, you accidentally knocked your water bottle over. It spilled across the table, soaking some of Gabriela’s notes.
She clicked her tongue loudly. “Seriously? Can you be careful for once?”
“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, grabbing napkins.
“You always say sorry,” she muttered, not quietly. “It doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t fix you.”
A few nearby students glanced over. Heat crawled up your neck as you wiped the table faster.
Across from you, Sophia had looked up from her laptop.
She didn’t say anything, not then, but you’d caught the small frown on her face.
Later, as everyone packed up to leave, she walked beside you out of the library.
“Hey,” she said gently. “Don’t stress about the water. It was an accident.”
You gave a small shrug. “Yeah. Gabriela just likes things neat.”
Sophia hummed softly, like she didn’t quite agree but didn’t want to push. “Still. You’re allowed to be human.”
You’d smiled at that, warmth blooming in your chest.
Sophia had a habit of quietly taking care of people.
If someone forgot a charger, she had one.If someone skipped breakfast, she’d split a snack with them.If someone looked stressed, she’d sit beside them without making it a big deal.
You started doing the same for her without thinking.
If you grabbed coffee before class, you grabbed her favorite too.If she mentioned being cold, you offered your hoodie.If she looked tired during late study sessions, you’d slide a granola bar toward her with a small smile.
“Thanks,” she’d always say warmly, eyes soft.
To you, it was just… normal. She was your friend. You liked taking care of your friends.
You didn’t notice the way Megan sometimes smirked when she saw you hand Sophia a drink. Or the way Lara raised her brows at Daniela. Or the way Yoonchae watched the two of you with quiet curiosity.
You also didn’t notice that sometimes, Gabriela did notice.
One evening in the cafeteria, you set a drink down in front of Sophia before sitting beside Gabriela.
Sophia blinked in surprise. “You remembered?”
“You always get this flavor,” you said simply.
Gabriela’s fork clinked a little too hard against her plate.
“You don’t even remember my order half the time,” she said lightly, but there was an edge under it.
You blinked. “I do—”
“It’s fine,” she cut in with a small laugh. “I’m kidding.”
But she wasn’t.
Sophia went a little quieter after that, like she was trying not to cause tension.
You thought you’d done something wrong.
Despite everything, the group felt like home.
Movie nights crammed into someone’s dorm room.Late-night walks for snacks.Group study sessions that turned into gossip sessions.
Daniela and Lara were the loudest together, always dramatic and affectionate. Manon balanced them out with dry humor. Megan flirted with everyone playfully. Yoonchae hovered between shy and bold depending on the day. Gabriela often took center stage without trying.
Sophia floated between everyone, easy, kind, observant.
And you… you filled in the gaps. Carrying extra bags. Saving seats. Making sure everyone had what they needed.
One rainy afternoon, everyone crammed into a small café off campus. You arrived last, slightly soaked, holding a paper bag.
“I brought pastries,” you announced.
Megan cheered. Daniela clapped. Lara immediately reached for one.
Sophia looked up at you, smiling. “You didn’t have to do that.”
You shrugged, setting the bag down. “I was passing by anyway.”
Gabriela rolled her eyes slightly. “You’re such a people pleaser.”
It was said jokingly. Probably meant jokingly.
Still, something in your chest tightened.
Sophia noticed.
Later, when everyone else got up to order more drinks, she leaned closer and whispered, “I like that you’re thoughtful. Don’t let anyone make that sound like a bad thing.”
You smiled softly at her. “Thanks.”
Neither of you noticed how long you held each other’s gaze.
By the time the group started planning the vacation, the dynamics were already there, just not fully acknowledged.
Gabriela getting sharper with you when stressed.You apologizing more often.Sophia quietly stepping in with gentleness whenever she could.
Once, after class, you tripped on the steps outside the building and scraped your palm.
“Wow,” Gabriela said with a short laugh. “You really are a disaster.”
Before you could brush it off, Sophia crouched beside you.
“Let me see,” she said softly, taking your hand carefully. She pulled a small pack of tissues from her bag and dabbed at the scrape. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you said, a little embarrassed.
She didn’t let go right away. “Still. That looked like it hurt.”
Gabriela sighed. “You’re babying them.”
Sophia glanced up briefly, not confrontational, just calm. “I’m helping.”
Something passed between them then. Quick. Quiet. Tense.
You pretended not to notice.
When the trip was finally booked, everyone was excited. Beach days. Parties. A shared villa. Time away from classes and stress.
You were excited too.
Maybe time away would make things better with Gabriela. Maybe the tension was just school stress. Maybe you’d imagined the sharpness in her tone lately.
Sophia caught you one afternoon while everyone was talking about packing lists. “You looking forward to it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” you said. Then, more quietly: “I think it’ll be good. For everything.”
She studied your face for a moment, like she wanted to ask more. Then she just smiled gently. “I’m glad we’re going together.”
You smiled back.
Neither of you realized just how much that trip was going to change everything, how it would bring the cracks into the open, shift loyalties, break some bonds and quietly begin others.
Or how, by the time it ended, the person who found you sitting alone on a stone wall with scraped knees and a breaking heart… would be the same person who’d been gently looking out for you all along.
At first, it was small enough that you almost convinced yourself it didn’t count.
Gabriela had always been expressive, dramatic, touchy, bold. She grabbed arms when she laughed, shoved shoulders when she teased. It had never bothered you before.
So when it started changing, you didn’t notice right away.
Or maybe you did.You just didn’t want to name it.
It didn’t get better.
It got quieter. Sharper. Harder to explain.
You were walking back from class together, the two of you a few steps behind the rest of the group.
You were telling a story, something small and stupid about getting lost trying to find a lecture hall, when Gabriela suddenly stopped walking.
“Why do you always make yourself sound so dumb?” she asked sharply.
You blinked. “I… wasn’t. I was just telling—”
Her fingers dug suddenly into the back of your neck.
Not hard enough to leave a mark.But hard enough to hurt.
Your breath caught.
She leaned in close, nails pressing into the sensitive skin just under your hairline. Anyone looking would think she was just pulling you closer affectionately.
“Stop acting clueless all the time,” she murmured, smiling like nothing was wrong. “It’s embarrassing.”
Then she released you and walked ahead.
You stood frozen for a moment, a dull sting lingering where her nails had been.
When you caught up with the group, you said nothing.
You told yourself it was just a weird moment.Just stress.Just her being intense.
After that, it happened more.
Not in front of everyone. Never obviously.
If you said something she didn’t like, her fingers would pinch sharply at your side where no one could see.If you walked too slowly, she’d grab your wrist too tight and tug.If you made a mistake, her nails would press briefly into your arm, quick and punishing, before she smiled like everything was normal.
Always small.Always deniable.
You started flinching without realizing.
One afternoon in the cafeteria, you laughed a little too loudly at something Megan said. Gabriela’s hand slid onto your thigh under the table.
At first you thought it was affectionate.
Then her nails pressed in. Hard.
You sucked in a tiny breath and went quiet immediately.
Across the table, Sophia noticed.
Her eyes flicked from your face to Gabriela’s hand under the table and back again. Her brows pulled together slightly.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Gabriela’s nails pressed once more, a silent warning, before she removed her hand and started chatting brightly with Daniela like nothing had happened.
Sophia didn’t look convinced.
You tried to rationalize it.
Maybe she didn’t realize how hard she was pressing.Maybe she just had sharp nails.Maybe you were being sensitive.
And when she was in a good mood, she could still be sweet. Still kiss your cheek. Still hold your hand loosely when walking across campus. Those moments made it easier to ignore the others.
But you started feeling… careful.
Monitoring what you said.How you laughed.How you moved.
One evening during a group study session, you accidentally interrupted her while she was talking. Not on purpose, you just thought she’d finished.
She smiled at you in front of everyone.
Then her fingers slipped behind your back where no one could see and pinched hard at your side.
Your voice cut off mid-sentence.
Sophia looked up immediately.
“You were saying something,” she said gently to you.
You forced a small smile. “No, it’s okay.”
Gabriela’s hand stayed at your back, nails lightly digging in, not enough to make you react again, just enough to remind you.
Sophia watched the interaction carefully, something unsettled in her expression.
The one time Sophia came closest to seeing clearly was outside the lecture hall late one afternoon.
The group was dispersing, everyone heading in different directions. You were standing beside Gabriela, checking something on your phone. She was irritated about a low grade on an assignment.
“I told you we should’ve studied differently,” she muttered.
“We did what we could,” you said softly.
Her hand came up like she was going to rest it on your shoulder.
Instead, her nails pressed sharply into the back of your neck again, right on that sensitive spot. Harder than before.
You flinched visibly.
At the same time, Sophia turned back because she’d forgotten her notebook.
She saw it.
Not fully, not the intention, but she saw your flinch. Saw Gabriela’s hand there. Saw the way your shoulders tensed.
Their eyes met briefly.
Gabriela removed her hand instantly and smiled. “See you later,” she said casually, already turning away.
Sophia lingered.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked you quietly once Gabriela was out of earshot.
You rubbed the back of your neck unconsciously. “Yeah. Why?”
She hesitated. “You just… reacted like something hurt.”
You forced a small laugh. “I’m just jumpy, I guess.”
She didn’t look convinced.But she didn’t push.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Just… tell me if you ever need anything. Yeah?”
You nodded.
You meant to be reassuring.Instead, something about your expression made her worry more.
By the time the vacation approached, the pattern had become normal to you in a way that felt strange and heavy.
You anticipated the pinches.Braced for the sharp nails.Adjusted yourself to avoid setting her off.
The others didn’t fully see it, not yet. They just noticed you apologizing more. Going quieter. Sometimes looking tense when Gabriela got annoyed.
Sophia noticed the most.
One evening while everyone talked excitedly about the trip, she sat beside you on a low campus wall.
“You excited?” she asked.
“Yeah,” you said automatically.
She studied your face. “You don’t sound excited.”
You tried to smile. “I am. It’ll be good.”
She nodded slowly, like she wanted to believe you. Then she nudged your shoulder lightly with hers. “If it’s not… you don’t have to pretend with me.”
The words settled somewhere deep in your chest.
You looked at her, really looked, at the quiet sincerity in her expression. The steady kindness she always gave without asking for anything back.
You felt safe with her in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
“…Thanks,” you said softly.
She smiled. “Always.”
Neither of you realized just how important those quiet promises would become once the vacation began, once the behavior that had been hidden in small pinches and sharp nails turned into something the others could no longer ignore.
At first, the others only noticed small things.
Things easy to dismiss.
You pulling your arm away too quickly when someone reached for you.Sitting a little straighter whenever Gabriela entered a room.Apologizing even when nothing had happened.
Individually, they didn’t mean much.
Together… they started to form a pattern.
It happened during a movie night in Lara and Daniela’s apartment.
Everyone was crammed together on the couch and floor, snacks scattered everywhere. Manon and Daniela were arguing over which movie to watch, Megan dramatically campaigning for a horror film while Yoonchae hid behind a pillow at the mere suggestion.
You were sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Sophia sat beside you, shoulder lightly touching yours.
It was comfortable. Easy.
At some point, she laughed at something Megan said and reached over without thinking, nudging your arm playfully.
Her fingers brushed your forearm.
You flinched.
Not subtly.Not small.
Your whole arm jerked away like you’d been burned.
Silence fell for half a second, just long enough to feel it.
Your stomach dropped.
Sophia froze immediately. “Oh— I’m sorry,” she said softly, pulling her hand back like she’d done something wrong. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no,” you rushed, heat flooding your face. “It’s not you. I just— I’m jumpy. Sorry.”
You forced a laugh, but it sounded thin even to your own ears.
Across the room, Megan’s brows knitted slightly. Daniela glanced at Lara. Manon paused mid-sentence.
Gabriela, sitting on the couch above you, just rolled her eyes lightly. “They’re always like that,” she said. “So dramatic.”
The comment landed awkwardly in the air.
Sophia didn’t laugh.
Instead, she gave you a small, apologetic smile, gentle, careful, and kept her hands to herself for the rest of the night.
You hated that more than anything.
A few days later, between classes, Yoonchae spotted you in the hallway.
“Hey!” she said brightly, jogging up behind you. She reached out and grabbed your wrist lightly to get your attention.
The second her fingers closed around your wrist, you yanked it back on instinct.
Too fast. Too sharp.
Yoonchae blinked, startled. “Oh! Sorry!”
Your face burned instantly. “No, I’m sorry — I didn’t mean— I just—”
You didn’t even know what to say.
She looked confused more than anything. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” you said quickly. “No, I just get startled easily.”
You forced a small smile, but your heart was racing now, that familiar anxious buzz under your skin.
From down the hallway, Megan had seen the whole thing. Her expression shifted from casual to thoughtful.
She didn’t say anything then.
But she noticed.
The moment that made it harder to ignore happened during lunch one afternoon.
Everyone was gathered around two pushed-together tables, talking loudly over each other. Gabriela was in a good mood that day, animated and charming, telling a story about something that happened in one of her classes.
You were sitting between Megan and Sophia.
At one point Megan laughed and, without thinking, slung an arm around your shoulders in a quick side hug. It was casual, friendly, something she did with everyone.
The second her arm settled around you, your body tensed.
Then you flinched away.
Hard.
You actually ducked slightly, like you were avoiding something.
The table went quiet.
Megan immediately pulled back. “Whoa— sorry,” she said, surprised. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, voice tight. “I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know why I keep doing that.”
Embarrassment burned through you so intensely you could barely meet anyone’s eyes.
Sophia was staring at you now. Not in a judging way, in a worried one. Lara and Daniela exchanged a glance. Manon leaned back slightly, observing. Yoonchae looked between everyone, confused.
Gabriela scoffed lightly. “You’d think we were attacking them or something,” she said with a short laugh. “Relax, it’s just a hug.”
The words made something twist painfully in your chest.
You forced a smile again, smaller this time. “Yeah. I’m just weird.”
No one laughed.
Sophia spoke quietly. “You’re not weird.”
Her voice was gentle but firm enough that it settled over the table.
You stared down at your food.
The conversation eventually picked back up, but it felt different now. Softer. More aware.
Later that week, Megan cornered Sophia outside the lecture hall.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “You’ve noticed it too, right?”
Sophia didn’t pretend not to understand. “…Yeah.”
“The flinching. The apologizing. The way Gabriela talks to them,” Megan continued, voice low. “Something’s off.”
Sophia’s jaw tightened slightly. “I know.”
Nearby, Lara and Daniela were having a similar conversation. Manon joined them midway through, arms crossed thoughtfully. Yoonchae hovered, worried but unsure what to say.
No one jumped to conclusions.No one wanted to assume the worst.
But the concern was there now. Shared. Growing.
You were painfully aware of it too.
Every time you flinched at someone’s touch and saw their surprised expression.Every time you had to laugh it off.Every time embarrassment flooded through you afterward.
You started trying harder not to react.
Holding yourself still when someone hugged you.Forcing your shoulders to stay relaxed.Smiling quickly so no one would worry.
It worked sometimes.
Other times your body reacted before you could stop it.
And each time, you saw the confusion, and slowly, the concern, in your friends’ eyes.
Especially Sophia’s.
One evening after class, you were both walking across campus as the sun started setting. The rest of the group had gone ahead.
Sophia walked beside you quietly for a bit before speaking.
“Can I ask you something?” she said gently.
You glanced at her. “…Okay.”
She chose her words carefully. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But… you’ve been really jumpy lately. With touch. With everything.”
Your stomach tightened.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she continued softly. “That’s all.”
You looked down at the pavement as you walked. Part of you wanted to brush it off like always. Another part felt suddenly, painfully seen.
“I’m fine,” you said automatically.
She didn’t argue. Didn’t push.
She just nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Then, after a small pause, she added quietly, “If you’re ever not… you can tell me. I won’t think you’re dramatic. Or weird. Or anything like that.”
The sincerity in her voice made your chest ache.
You managed a small smile. “I know.”
And you did know.
You just weren’t ready, or maybe weren’t able to say it out loud yet.
Still, as you walked beside her in the fading evening light, there was a quiet understanding forming among the group. A growing awareness that something wasn’t right. That the way you flinched, apologized, shrank… wasn’t just personality.
They didn’t know everything yet.
But they were starting to see enough to worry.
And once the vacation began, once everything intensified under the pressure of being together constantly, that worry would finally turn into clarity none of them could ignore.
The villa pulsed with music and laughter, lights spilling out across the terrace and down toward the coast.
From the outside, it looked like the perfect vacation.
Inside… it hadn’t felt that way for you in a long time.
Everyone had come together as one big friend group, Megan, Sophia, Yoonchae, Lara, Daniela, Manon, Gabriela, and you. Lara, Daniela, and Manon had brought their boyfriends along, filling the days with double dates, beach outings, and late-night parties. Megan and Yoonchae were quietly navigating complicated feelings between themselves. Sophia had come alone, carefree and bright as always.
And you… you had come with Gabriela.
At least, technically.
Lately, being with her felt less like a relationship and more like walking on broken glass.
But this vacation had made it impossible to ignore.
Every mistake you made, she pointed out. Every clumsy moment, she mocked. If you asked a simple question, she snapped. If you stayed quiet, she called you moody.
And today had been the worst.
Gabriela had tripped you on uneven stone steps, your feet getting tangled and you scraped both knees badly. Later you slipped on wet tiles and slammed your hand into the ground, nearly twisting your wrist and when you tried to get up, Gabriela stepped onto your hand. You’d bumped your head against a low doorway. Dropped your drink. Dropped your phone.
By the third time you stumbled, Gabriela had laughed out loud.
“God, you’re such an idiot sometimes,” she’d said, not even lowering her voice. “Can you go five minutes without embarrassing me?”
You’d laughed weakly like it didn’t hurt.
But it did.
By nightfall, the others were inside partying, music loud, voices overlapping, glasses clinking. You’d slipped away quietly, unnoticed.
Now you sat alone on the low stone wall that lined the coast below the villa. The ocean stretched out dark and endless, waves breaking softly against the rocks. A salty breeze tugged at your clothes and stung the fresh scrapes on your knees.
Your wrist ached. Your head throbbed. Small cuts dotted your arms and legs.
You stared out at the water, elbows resting on your knees, and tried to think.
Was it worth staying?
Not just on this vacation.
In the relationship.
You’d been turning that question over in your mind for days, but tonight it sat heavier than ever. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were just sensitive. Maybe—
“Hey.”
The gentle voice broke through your thoughts.
You turned slightly.
Sophia stood a few feet away, holding two small cups of ice cream and a napkin tucked under her arm. The soft glow from the villa lights outlined her silhouette.
She offered a small smile. “Mind if I sit?”
You blinked, surprised. “…Sure.”
She stepped closer and sat beside you on the stone wall, leaving just enough space to be respectful but close enough to feel warm. She handed you one of the cups.
Your favorite flavor.
“I noticed you disappeared,” she said lightly. “Figured you might need a break from the chaos.”
You stared at the ice cream in your hands. “Thanks.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the sound of the waves and faint music drifting down from the villa.
Then Sophia glanced at your knees. Her expression shifted. “Oh. Wow. Those look… painful.”
You followed her gaze. Dried blood, fresh scrapes, sand still clinging to one side. You hadn’t bothered cleaning them properly.
“It’s nothing,” you muttered automatically.
She didn’t buy it.
“Your wrist too?” she asked softly, noticing the way you held it.
You gave a small shrug.
Sophia set her own ice cream down on the wall and gently reached for your hand. “Can I?”
You hesitated, then nodded.
Her touch was careful as she examined your wrist, turning it slightly. Her brows pulled together. “You almost sprained this.”
“I know.”
“And your head?” she asked quietly.
“…Hit it earlier.”
She exhaled slowly through her nose, like she was trying not to get upset. Then she reached into the small tote bag she’d brought and pulled out napkins, a little travel antiseptic bottle, and bandages.
“Good thing I’m the mom friend,” she murmured.
You watched, a little stunned, as she poured antiseptic onto a napkin and gently started cleaning one of the scrapes on your knee.
It stung.
You flinched.
“I know, I know,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. Almost done.”
The gentleness in her voice made your throat tighten unexpectedly.
For a while, you sat there quietly as she cleaned and bandaged each scrape with patient care. The ice cream sat forgotten beside you, slowly melting.
Finally she spoke again. “Can I ask you something?”
You nodded slightly.
“Why was Gabriela laughing earlier when you fell?” she asked carefully. “I thought maybe I misheard, but… it didn’t sound like a joke.”
You stared out at the ocean. The question sat between you, heavy and impossible to dodge.
“…She does that a lot,” you admitted quietly.
Sophia’s hands stilled.
You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But once it started, it kept going, soft, halting, honest. You told her about the comments. The eye rolls. The way Gabriela snapped at you. How today she’d called you an idiot. How small you’d been feeling for weeks.
Sophia didn’t interrupt. She just listened.
By the time you finished, her jaw was tight.
“That’s not okay,” she said finally, voice low but firm. “None of that is okay.”
You gave a weak shrug. “Maybe I’m just—”
“No,” she said immediately. “Don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.” She looked at you fully now, eyes steady. “You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Ever.”
Something in your chest twisted painfully at the certainty in her voice.
She picked up the melting ice cream and pressed it gently into your hands. “Eat,” she instructed softly. “You’ve had a horrible day.”
A tiny laugh escaped you despite everything. “Bossy.”
“Very,” she agreed, smiling faintly.
You ate slowly while she kept talking with you, about nothing and everything. The ocean. The trip. Silly memories from earlier days. She kept you grounded, present, warm.
By the time you both stood to head back inside, your chest felt lighter than it had in weeks.
“I’m going to keep an eye on things,” Sophia said quietly as you walked. “On you. And on… everything.”
You glanced at her. “…You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” she replied simply.
And she did.
Over the next few days, the others started noticing too, the sharpness in Gabriela’s tone, the way she dismissed you, the way you shrank slightly whenever she got irritated. Sophia spoke quietly with Megan and Lara one evening. Then Daniela. Then Manon. None of them confronted Gabriela outright, but the shift was there.
They watched. They stayed closer to you. Checked in more.
Until the night everything finally snapped.
The bar was loud.
Too loud.
Music pounded through the floor, bass vibrating up through your shoes, lights flashing in slow pulses of pink and blue. The air smelled like salt, alcohol, and sunscreen still clinging to everyone from the beach earlier.
It was supposed to be a fun night.
Everyone had dressed up. Lara and Daniela were already dancing with their boyfriends. Manon leaned against the bar laughing at something Jonah said. Megan and Yoonchae were whispering together over shared drinks. Sophia stood near the edge of the group, relaxed but observant as always.
Gabriela had disappeared about twenty minutes ago.
You’d assumed she went to the bathroom. Or to get another drink. Or to flirt harmlessly with someone for fun, she did that sometimes, said it meant nothing.
You told yourself not to overthink.
Then Megan leaned closer to you, voice low.
“…Hey. Don’t turn around fast.”
Your stomach dropped instantly.
“What?” you asked quietly.
She hesitated. “I might be wrong, but… I think Gabriela’s outside. With some guy.”
Your pulse started pounding in your ears.
You turned anyway.
Through the open doors leading to the beachside patio, you could see silhouettes in the dim lighting, people standing in small groups, talking, smoking, laughing.
And there.
Near the railing.
Gabriela stood close, very close, to a tall guy you’d never seen before. His hand rested low on her waist. Her head tilted toward him, smiling in that way you knew too well. Intimate. Interested.
Then he leaned down and kissed her.
Not quick. Not ambiguous.
A kiss that lingered.
Something inside you snapped.
You didn’t remember deciding to move. Suddenly you were walking, fast, pushing through the crowd and out onto the patio, the sound of the ocean louder out here but drowned by the roaring in your head.
“Gabriela.”
Your voice came out sharper than you intended.
She pulled back from the guy immediately, eyes widening when she saw you. For half a second there was something like guilt.
Then it hardened into annoyance.
“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Seriously?”
You stared at her. At him. At the hand still resting on her waist.
“…Are you kidding me?” Your voice shook with disbelief more than anything. “You’re cheating on me. Right in front of me?”
The guy looked you up and down with open disdain. “Who’s this?” he asked her, like you weren’t even there.
Heat surged through your chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded. “You couldn’t even wait until we were home? You had to do this here?”
The guy snorted. “Relax,” he said. “It’s not that deep.”
You turned toward him slowly. “Stay out of it.”
He stepped forward instead, squaring his shoulders like he wanted a confrontation. “Or what?”
Your hands curled into fists at your sides.
“Dude,” he continued, smirking, “if she’s with me right now, maybe take the hint. She clearly upgraded.”
The words hit hard.
Harder because part of you had been bracing for them.
You felt anger rising fast now, hot, blinding, weeks and months of swallowed hurt boiling over all at once.
“Shut up,” you said, voice low and dangerous.
He laughed. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Behind you, you could hear movement, your friends realizing something was wrong and coming outside. But everything tunneled into this one moment.
“You think you’re tough?” he went on, stepping closer. “You look like you’d cry if someone raised their voice at you.”
That did it.
You stepped forward, closing the distance. “Back off.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he shoved you.
A hard push to the chest that made you stumble back a step.
For a split second everything went completely silent in your head.
Then you swung.
Your fist connected with his face before you even fully registered the movement. A sharp crack. His head snapped to the side as he staggered back, swearing loudly.
Shouts erupted around you.
“HEY—”
“WHAT THE—”
“STOP!”
Hands grabbed you almost instantly, Megan on one side, someone else on the other, but you were still furious, adrenaline surging, trying to lunge forward again.
“He touched me first!” you shouted, voice raw with rage. “He pushed me!”
“I know, I know,” Megan said quickly, wrapping both arms around you from the side, trying to hold you back. “Hey— hey— breathe, okay? Breathe.”
Jonah appeared a second later, stepping between you and the guy who was now clutching his face and swearing. Daniela was yelling at him. Lara too. The situation was exploding in every direction.
“Alright,” Jonah said firmly, grabbing your shoulders and turning you away from the chaos. “You need to step back. Come on. Walk with me.”
“I’m fine,” you snapped, still shaking with anger.
“Yeah,” he replied calmly. “You don’t look fine.”
He didn’t let go, just guided you firmly but gently away from the patio, away from the shouting, toward the darker stretch of beach beyond the bar lights. Megan followed close behind, staying quiet but present.
Your chest heaved as you walked, fists still clenched.
“I can’t believe her,” you muttered. “I can’t— after everything—”
“I know,” Megan said softly.
Jonah stopped near the waterline where the noise of the bar faded into distant thumps. Waves rolled in steadily, cool air hitting your face.
“Stay here,” he said gently. “Cool off. We’ve got things handled over there.”
You laughed bitterly. “Handled how?”
Megan exchanged a glance with him. “Trust us.”
You dragged a hand through your hair, still shaking with leftover adrenaline. “I almost broke his jaw.”
“He deserved it,” Megan said bluntly. Then, softer: “But you don’t need more trouble tonight. Just… breathe.”
They stayed with you a minute longer until your breathing started to slow slightly. Then Jonah squeezed your shoulder once.
“We’re right over there if you need us,” he said.
You nodded distantly.
They walked back toward the bar, leaving you alone with the ocean and the roaring in your chest.
You paced along the shoreline, anger still simmering, sand crunching under your shoes. Every memory of Gabriela’s comments, her pinches, her laughter when you got hurt, all of it replayed in your head.
By the time the others found you again, nearly twenty minutes later, your anger had burned down into something emptier. Heavier.
Sophia approached first, walking slowly like she didn’t want to startle you. The others lingered a few steps back.
“It’s done,” she said quietly.
You looked at her. “…Done?”
“She’s gone,” Lara said from behind her, voice tight with anger. “We told her to pack her things and leave. She’s not staying at the villa.”
Daniela crossed her arms. “She tried to argue. Didn’t go well for her.”
Megan stepped closer to you again, gentler now. “We’re on your side. Okay? All of us.”
You stared at them, the words taking a moment to sink in.
Gone.
Just like that.
Sophia moved a little closer, her voice soft. “You don’t have to deal with her anymore tonight. Or tomorrow. Or… ever, if you don’t want to.”
The tension that had been holding you upright all evening suddenly loosened. Not dramatically. Just enough that your shoulders dropped slightly.
“…Okay,” you said quietly.
No one rushed you. No one pushed. They just stayed nearby, forming a quiet, protective circle under the dim beach lights while the waves rolled in and out.
For the first time since the confrontation, your breathing finally began to steady.
You expected to feel worse when you woke up.
Wrecked. Hollow. Humiliated.
Instead, you just felt… tired. And strangely light in places that had been tense for months.
The villa was quieter when you woke up. Sunlight filtered through thin white curtains, the distant sound of waves rolling in steady and calm, like nothing dramatic had happened at all.
For a moment, you just lay there staring at the ceiling.
Gabriela was gone.
Actually gone.
No sharp comments.No tension in the air.No waiting for the next jab.
Your chest felt oddly open, like you could breathe deeper without realizing you’d been holding your breath before.
Still, there was a lingering heaviness. The aftermath of everything. The confrontation. Throwing that punch. Months of emotional buildup that didn’t just disappear overnight.
You dressed slowly and headed downstairs.
The guys had taken over the kitchen.
Jonah stood at the counter making coffee like he owned the place. Orlando was half-asleep at the island, scrolling through his phone. David leaned against the fridge eating cereal straight from the box.
They all looked up when you walked in.
A beat of silence.
Then Jonah nodded once, casual but warm. “Morning.”
“Morning,” you replied.
No awkward pity. No weird tension. Just… normal.
Orlando slid a mug across the counter toward you. “Coffee. You look like you need it.”
You huffed a small laugh. “I probably do.”
David gave you a brief once-over, not judging, just checking. “You good today?”
You considered the question honestly. “Yeah. I think… yeah.”
“Good,” he said simply, and went back to his cereal.
That was it. No interrogation. No dramatics. Just quiet support.
It helped more than they probably realized.
By late morning, the girls had announced a “girls-only beach day” and shooed everyone else away from their planned stretch of sand.
So the guys, and you, ended up a little farther down the coast.
Jonah brought a football. Orlando brought a portable speaker. David brought snacks and sunscreen like the most responsible one there.
At first you mostly sat on a towel, watching them mess around in the water. Not fully withdrawn, just quieter than usual. Letting yourself exist without pressure to perform being okay.
Eventually Jonah jogged over, tossing the football lightly at your chest. You caught it on reflex.
“Get up,” he said.
You blinked. “Why?”
“Because you look like you’re thinking too hard,” he replied. “And that never helps anyone.”
Orlando shouted from the water, “We need another player!”
You hesitated for half a second.
Then stood.
It felt… good. Moving. Running across warm sand. Throwing the ball back and forth. Letting your body burn off leftover anger and adrenaline from the night before.
At one point you laughed, a real one, when David completely missed a catch and fell backward into shallow water.
Jonah noticed. He didn’t comment on it. Just smirked slightly like he’d been waiting for that sound.
You were still brooding a little. Still processing.But it wasn’t heavy in the same crushing way anymore.
A little farther down the beach, the girls had claimed a wide sunny stretch of sand.
Colorful towels. Open bags. Sunscreen everywhere.
Lara, Daniela, and Manon were already in bikinis, stretched out dramatically like they were in a photoshoot. Megan and Yoonchae sat close together, shoulders brushing occasionally in that not-quite-official way they’d fallen into. Sophia sat slightly apart, knees drawn up, watching the waves.
“They’re with the guys,” Megan said, glancing down the shoreline where your group was visible in the distance.
“Good,” Daniela replied. “They need that.”
Lara adjusted her sunglasses. “How are they actually doing?”
Megan shrugged lightly. “Better than I expected. Still… processing.”
Manon hummed. “I’m just glad she’s gone. I swear if she’d stayed another day—”
“She wouldn’t have,” Daniela cut in sharply. “Not after last night.”
A small silence settled.
Sophia hadn’t said much yet. She kept watching your distant figure, the way you jogged across the sand, hair messy from the wind, shoulders finally looking a little less tense.
“…They laughed,” she said quietly.
Megan followed her gaze. “Yeah. Just now.”
Sophia’s expression softened, relief mixed with something gentler. “Good.”
Daniela noticed the look and smirked slightly but didn’t tease. Not yet.
“They’re safe here,” Lara said softly. “With us.”
Sophia nodded. But her eyes stayed on you.
She hadn’t slept much.
Not because of drama, because of thinking. Replaying conversations. Realizing how long things must have been bad for you. Feeling a quiet guilt for not pushing harder earlier.
But this morning… you looked lighter.
Still bruised emotionally. Still carrying something heavy. But lighter.
When you laughed with the guys, something warm spread through her chest. A kind of quiet relief she didn’t quite know what to do with.
She’d always cared about you, that part wasn’t new.
What was new was the sharp clarity of it now. The way her attention kept drifting toward you even when everyone else was talking. The way she felt protective in a deeper, more personal sense than before.
Megan noticed, of course. Megan noticed everything.
Sophia ignored the knowing looks for now.
By early afternoon, the separation didn’t last.
Orlando wandered down the beach first under the excuse of “seeing if the girls had better snacks.” Jonah followed. David eventually too. You trailed behind, hands in your pockets, squinting slightly in the bright sun.
The girls looked up as you approached.
Daniela immediately grinned. “Look who survived boys’ day.”
“Barely,” you replied dryly.
Megan patted the sand beside her. “C’mere. Sit.”
You dropped down onto a towel, stretching your legs out. Yoonchae passed you a cold drink without a word. You blinked at her in thanks.
Everything felt… normal.
Lara and Orlando bickered playfully about something. Daniela climbed onto Jonah’s back and nearly knocked him over. Manon and David shared sunscreen. Megan and Yoonchae kept bumping shoulders. The group energy slowly rebalanced.
Sophia sat beside you after a minute, close but not crowding.
“You look better,” she said quietly.
You glanced at her. “Yeah. I think I am.”
A small, warm smile spread across her face, genuine relief.
For a while you all just existed together in the sun. Talking. Swimming. Passing snacks around. No tension. No walking on eggshells.
At one point Megan suggested a group photo. Everyone crowded together, half-dry, sun-warmed, messy.
Someone pulled you into the center. You didn’t resist.
As the camera clicked, arms slung around shoulders, ocean glittering behind you, you realized something quietly important:
You weren’t alone anymore.Not in the way you’d felt before.
And across the small circle, Sophia caught your eye for a brief second, smiling softly like she was thinking the exact same thing.
Most of the group had drifted toward the water again.
Daniela was clinging to Jonah’s shoulders while he tried to walk into the waves. Lara and Orlando were arguing about who could hold their breath longer underwater. Megan and Yoonchae sat at the shoreline letting the tide roll over their legs, talking quietly. Manon and David had wandered off to find drinks.
You stayed back near the towels, half lying on your side, letting the sun warm your back.
For once, your mind wasn’t racing.Just… slower. Quieter.
Footsteps approached through the sand.
Jonah dropped down onto the towel beside you with a tired exhale, running a hand through his damp hair. “If Daniela dunks me one more time I’m filing for emotional damages.”
You huffed a small laugh. “You chose to date her.”
“I know,” he said solemnly. “I suffer daily.”
Silence settled comfortably after that. Not awkward. Just two people sharing space.
Jonah leaned back on his hands, glancing toward the ocean where the others splashed around. Then he looked over at you.
“You slept at all?” he asked casually.
“A bit,” you said. “Not great. But better than I expected.”
He nodded like that was enough. He never pushed for more than you offered.
After a moment he reached into the cooler beside the towels and tossed you a cold bottle of water. You caught it automatically.
“Hydrate,” he said. “You punched someone last night. That counts as cardio.”
You snorted. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Most people don’t before punching someone,” he replied dryly.
You twisted the cap open and took a drink, then stared out at the water again. The rhythmic waves helped keep your thoughts from spiraling.
“…I’ve never done that before,” you admitted quietly. “Hit someone.”
Jonah didn’t react dramatically. Just nodded once. “Yeah.”
“I’m not usually… like that.”
“I know.”
You glanced at him. “You do?”
He shrugged lightly. “You don’t strike me as someone who swings first. That was built-up anger. Not random.”
The simple understanding in his tone loosened something in your chest.
You hesitated. “Was it… too much?”
He considered for a second. “If we’re talking technically? Violence is messy.” Then he added, more firmly: “But he put his hands on you first. And he was running his mouth. I’m not gonna pretend I’m heartbroken he got hit.”
A faint smile tugged at your mouth.
Jonah leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Look,” he continued more quietly, “you don’t have to justify being angry. You had a lot of reasons.”
You swallowed. Nodded slightly.
For a while you both just watched the others. Daniela climbed onto Orlando’s back and nearly knocked him into the water. Megan and Yoonchae were now ankle-deep, talking close together. Sophia stood just beyond them, letting waves roll over her feet, occasionally glancing back toward shore.
“You’ve got people here,” Jonah said after a moment. Not looking at you, just stating it. “In case that hasn’t fully sunk in yet.”
You stared at the horizon. “…I’m starting to feel it.”
He nodded like that was what he wanted to hear.
Another comfortable silence settled. Wind, waves, distant laughter.
Then Jonah spoke again, lighter now. “Wanna walk?”
You blinked. “Now?”
“Yeah. Before Daniela realizes I’ve escaped and comes to drag me back into the ocean.”
You laughed quietly and pushed yourself up. “Sure.”
You walked along the edge of the water where the sand was firmer, waves occasionally washing over your feet. Not fast. Just wandering.
Jonah kicked at a shell absentmindedly. “You know,” he said, “when Daniela told me what had been going on… I felt kind of bad we didn’t catch it sooner.”
You stiffened slightly. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know,” he said easily. “Still. We’re all around each other a lot. You’d think we would’ve seen more.”
You thought about that. About all the times you’d brushed things off.
“I hid it pretty well,” you admitted. “Or tried to.”
He gave a small, knowing hum. “Yeah. You did.”
You walked a few more steps.
“…I’m glad you were there last night,” you said eventually. “When everything went down.”
Jonah glanced over, surprised but warm. “Of course I was there.”
“I mean it,” you said. “You pulled me out before I did something worse. And… you didn’t make me feel stupid about it.”
He shrugged slightly, almost embarrassed by the gratitude. “That’s basic decency.”
“Still.”
He bumped his shoulder lightly against yours, not enough to startle you, just enough to be grounding. You didn’t flinch this time.
Progress.
“You’re gonna be alright,” he said. Not as a question. Just quiet certainty.
You exhaled slowly, watching the horizon glow in the afternoon light. “…Yeah. I think I am.”
They were simple words.But for the first time, you actually believed them.
Out in the water, Daniela spotted you both walking and shouted Jonah’s name dramatically. He groaned.
“Duty calls,” he muttered.
You laughed. “Go before she swims over here.”
He started jogging backward toward the waves, then paused and pointed at you. “Don’t disappear into your head too much, okay? Come back and hang with us.”
“I will,” you promised.
He nodded once, satisfied, and turned back toward the chaos.
You stood there for a moment longer, watching the group, your friends, under the bright afternoon sun. Feeling steadier than you had in a long time.
Then you headed back toward them too.
You don’t remember falling asleep.
One minute you’re stretched out on the towel Jonah tossed beside his, the steady crash of waves and distant laughter blending into a soft blur. The sun is warm on your skin, heavy and comforting, and for the first time in days your body isn’t buzzing with tension.
It just… lets go.
From a distance, Sophia notices first.
She’s walking back from the little beach café with a paper cup of iced coffee sweating in her hand when she spots you farther down the sand. The boys are still in the water, Jonah trying to dunk Orlando while David cheers them on, and you’re alone on the towels.
At first she thinks you’re just lying there.
Then she gets closer.
Your arm is half hanging off the towel, fingers curled loosely into the sand. Your face is turned toward the sun, eyes closed, lashes casting faint shadows across your cheeks. There’s still a faint bruise near your temple from the fall days ago, and one of the healing scrapes on your knee has gone pink under the sunlight.
You look… exhausted.
Not just sleepy.Drained.
Sophia’s chest tightens.
She crouches beside you slowly, like approaching something fragile.
“Hey…” she murmurs softly, but you don’t stir.
Your breathing is deep, even. Completely out.
Her expression softens.
You must have needed this.
She sets her iced coffee aside and looks around. The sun is stronger now than it was earlier, beating down hard enough to make the sand almost too hot to touch. Your shoulders are already starting to pink.
“Idiot,” she whispers fondly under her breath.
She stands, walks a few steps to grab the extra beach umbrella leaning near the bags, and drags it back over. It takes a little effort to shove the pole into the sand, but she angles it carefully so the shade falls across your face and torso.
Instant relief from the direct sunlight.
You shift slightly in your sleep, brow smoothing.
Sophia smiles faintly.
“Better.”
She kneels again and gently brushes a bit of sand from your cheek with the back of her fingers, slow, careful, like she’s afraid you might vanish if she moves too fast.
You don’t wake.
Instead, your face unconsciously leans a fraction toward the touch.
Her breath catches.
God.
Out in the water, Megan notices Sophia lingering and squints toward shore.
“Is that— are they asleep?” she asks, treading water.
Jonah turns, following her gaze. He snorts softly.
“Yeah. Finally crashed.”
“Should we wake them?” David asks.
Jonah shakes his head immediately. “No way. They haven’t slept properly in days.”
Orlando shades his eyes. “Sophia’s got it handled.”
They all watch for a moment as Sophia adjusts the umbrella again, then sits cross-legged beside you like a quiet guard dog.
Megan smiles to herself.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “She’s got it.”
Back on the sand, Sophia digs through the beach bag and finds the sunscreen. She hesitates.
“Okay… don’t be weird,” she mutters to herself.
Carefully, gently, she squeezes a little onto her fingers and starts applying it to the exposed skin of your shoulder, light touches, slow and respectful. Just enough to keep you from burning.
You stir slightly.
Her hand freezes.
For a second she thinks you’re waking, but you only sigh and settle deeper into the towel, turning your face a little toward the shade she made.
Your expression in sleep is… peaceful.
Younger.
Unburdened.
Sophia swallows.
“You look better like this,” she whispers quietly. “Less like the world’s ending.”
Her thumb lightly smooths over a healing scrape near your wrist, checking it without waking you. She’d brought a small first-aid pouch earlier, habit now, and she gently replaces the bandage with a clean one, movements practiced and soft.
You don’t wake once.
Trusting, even in sleep.
That realization hits her harder than she expects.
Time passes slowly.
The sound of waves. Distant laughter. Seagulls crying overhead.
Sophia stays right there beside you.
At some point, Megan and Yoonchae come back from the water and collapse onto their own towels nearby, whispering so they don’t wake you.
There’s a quiet understanding between all of them now. A shared protectiveness that hadn’t existed before this trip.
Megan stretches onto her stomach. “Jonah said they barely slept last night either.”
Sophia’s gaze flickers back to your face.
“…Yeah,” she says quietly. “I know.”
Eventually, after nearly an hour, you start to stir.
Your fingers twitch first. Then your brow furrows slightly as you blink against the dimmer light under the umbrella.
You sit up slowly, disoriented, hair messy from sleep.
“…What—”
Your eyes land on Sophia sitting beside you.
Then on the umbrella shading you.
Then on the fresh bandage on your wrist.
You blink.
“…Did I fall asleep?”
Megan snorts from her towel. “You passed out. Fully.”
You rub the back of your neck, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize,” Sophia says immediately, gentle but firm.
You glance at her, surprised by the tone.
She holds your gaze for a second, then softens again. “You needed rest. That’s all.”
Your shoulders loosen slightly.
“Oh.”
A small silence.
You look down at the neat bandage on your wrist. “…You did this?”
Sophia shrugs, suddenly shy. “Sun was hitting it. Didn’t want it getting worse.”
You stare at it for a moment.
Then at her.
“…Thanks, Soph.”
Quiet. Genuine.
Something warm flickers across her face, soft and a little flustered.
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Of course.”
From the water, Jonah calls out: “Sleeping beauty lives!”
You groan, grabbing a handful of sand and tossing it weakly in his direction.
He laughs, wading back toward shore. “C’mon. You look human again.”
You stand slowly, stretching, still a little drowsy but lighter than before.
Sophia watches you carefully as you wake up properly, making sure you’re steady when you stand. Her hand hovers near your elbow for a second, just in case, but she doesn’t touch unless you need it.
You don’t notice.
But Megan does.
Yoonchae does.
Even Jonah, as he approaches and slings an easy arm over your shoulders, catches the look on Sophia’s face.
He smiles to himself.
Yeah.
Something’s definitely growing here.
The sun had climbed high, and after your nap, you felt… lighter. Like the weight of the past days had lifted just enough to let you move freely again. The water was cool, bright with reflections of sunlight, and the group was in high spirits.
Jonah was splashing Orlando while David chased Manon. Megan and Yoonchae were giggling at something ridiculous Daniela and Lara were doing near the shore. Sophia was nearby, standing in waist-deep water, watching you with that familiar soft expression you’d come to crave.
You waded toward her.
“Ready?” you asked with a grin.
She tilted her head, suspicious but teasing. “For what?”
You smiled wider, reaching down and scooping her up onto your back. Her arms wrapped around your neck instantly, holding on tightly. You clasped your hands under her thighs to keep her secure.
“You’re heavy,” you teased lightly.
She laughed, her breath catching against your ear. Warm, soft, and teasing. “…I think you like it.”
Heat rose immediately to your cheeks. The sound of her voice so close, the warmth of her body pressed to your back, the way her hair tickled the sensitive skin at your neck… you had to force yourself not to stammer.
“Sh-should I put you down?” you asked, trying to focus on your footing in the sand and water rather than the fluttering in your chest.
She shook her head, laughing softly. “No. Keep going.”
Her arms tightened a little, and your heart skipped again. Her breath brushed against the sensitive spot behind your ear and down your neck. You swallowed hard, aware of how much this simple touch, this playful moment, was affecting you.
Jonah called out from a few feet away, smirking. “Wow, didn’t realize this was a dating simulation!”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop your own grin. “Shut up, Jonah!”
Sophia giggled softly on your back. “…He’s just jealous he can’t carry me like this.”
“You wish,” you said, splashing lightly through the shallow water to keep your balance.
Her laughter warmed you from behind. Every little sound, every tiny shift as she adjusted herself to hold on better… it was all so intimate and light, and yet it made your chest tighten in the best kind of way.
“You’re… warm,” you admitted quietly, almost to yourself.
Her head tilted slightly, brushing your ear again as she laughed softly. “…I could say the same.”
Heat immediately floods your cheeks. You know it’s not just the sun anymore. You feel your pulse quicken, your stomach tightening. Every small movement, every brush of her hair and her breath is sending shivers down your spine.
“…Uh… S-Sophia…” you start, voice cracking slightly. You stumble over your words, nearly tripping on a small wave.
She tilts her head slightly, noticing your reaction, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Hm?” she murmurs innocently. “You’re turning red… maybe you’re sunburned?”
You freeze, cheeks burning hotter. “N-no! I mean— I’m fine, I—”
Her hand drifts slightly, fingers trailing long, delicate nails along the back of your neck, not harsh, just enough to make the sensitive skin twitch under her touch. You shiver involuntarily, teeth clenching slightly.
“Careful…” you whisper, voice tight and flustered. “…You’re—uh—you’re distracting me.”
She hums softly, eyes meeting yours briefly over her shoulder, and you feel that spark of awareness in her gaze. She’s noticed. Not teasing further, not mocking, but the small smile tells you she understands exactly what she’s doing.
“…Red cheeks aren’t just sunburn,” she murmurs gently, letting her nails linger for a fraction longer before moving her hands back to hold on tighter. “…Maybe it’s me?”
You stumble over your words again, blinking, trying to focus on your footing instead of the warmth creeping through your chest and neck. “…I… uh… m-maybe…”
She laughs softly, low and teasing, but the sound is warmer now, intimate, without pushing too far. Her forearms tighten just slightly around your shoulders, anchoring herself as she leans closer for balance. The brush of her breath hits your sensitive neck again, and you have to swallow hard.
“You… you’re flustered,” she murmurs, a hint of curiosity mixed with amusement in her voice. “Interesting.”
You can’t even respond properly. Your tongue feels thick, your thoughts scrambled. You only manage a choked, “…I’m… fine…”
Sophia tilts her head back slightly, letting her hair brush across your ear again. This time, it’s slower, lingering just long enough to make you shiver again, to make the truth of your reaction undeniable. She doesn’t tease beyond that. She doesn’t push. She simply lets the moment hang, giving herself, and you, a quiet, shared understanding.
This small acknowledgment, this subtle teasing, is enough. It’s a signal. She’s realized just how responsive you are to her, and now she knows she can take the flirting further when the time is right, careful, teasing, intimate, and entirely under her control.
You wobble slightly in the water again, and she chuckles softly. “…Careful,” she murmurs again. “You might fall over from being flustered.”
“…M-maybe I already have,” you manage to stammer, heart hammering.
Her laugh is soft, approving, and she leans closer slightly, not enough to smother, just enough to let her warmth and presence remind you she’s there. Anchoring you. Testing the waters. Showing you the line you might cross together… and daring you to notice it.
For a moment, you just waded through the water like that, both of you laughing quietly, splashing, enjoying the carefree warmth of the sun and the ocean, letting the tension of the past week melt away completely.
Jonah, David, and Orlando watched from a few feet away, smirking knowingly. Megan and Yoonchae had retreated closer to shore, giggling and nudging each other as they watched.
You didn’t care.
This was a moment only between you and Sophia. Only her arms around you. Only her laughter and breath making your heart pound. Only the sun and water and sand grounding you in something new, something light and thrilling and dangerous in its sweetness.
Eventually, you slowed near the shore, water splashing at your knees. Sophia slid off your back carefully, laughing as she stepped onto the sand. You were both soaked, hair stuck to your faces, but neither of you cared.
“You okay?” she asked, brushing a strand of wet hair from your forehead.
“Yeah,” you breathed, still feeling the lingering warmth of her pressed to you. “…Better than okay.”
Her eyes met yours, soft and teasing. “…Good.”
And for the first time in a long while, you realized how safe, how seen, and how alive you felt with her.
The sun has finally dipped low, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. The group is back at the villa, everyone showered and dressed for a special dinner on the terrace.
You step out of your room and immediately notice Sophia.
She’s wearing a dress that stops just above her knees, flowing slightly with every step. The color is deep, rich, something between burgundy and sunset, and the neckline is daring just enough to make your stomach flip. The way the fabric hugs her curves, the way she moves as if she knows exactly the effect she’s having on you… it’s impossible to ignore.
She catches your eye instantly and tilts her head slightly, a teasing, knowing smile playing at her lips. The subtle sway of her hips, the glint in her eyes, it’s provocatively deliberate. And it’s working.
Your cheeks flush. Heart pounding, you fidget with your own clothes, suddenly painfully aware of how self-conscious you feel.
“You’re… wow,” you mutter quietly to yourself, voice tight.
She smirks. “I was hoping you’d notice.”
Jonah notices your obvious fluster immediately. He sidles up, giving you a small shove toward the villa balcony. “Relax,” he says softly. “Take a deep breath. Maybe a little liquid courage?”
He hands you a small glass of wine. You hesitate, cheeks heating, but he gives you a wink. “It’ll help with… nerves.”
You sip slowly, feeling it warm your chest and loosen the tension in your shoulders slightly. Jonah leans closer, quietly murmuring, “Okay… you’ve got this. Just… don’t overthink it. She likes you noticing, that’s all.”
You nod, gulping another sip. The warmth spreads through you, giving you the courage you’ve been lacking all week.
Sophia moves closer, casually leaning on the railing, eyes flicking to you every so often. She’s teasing without speaking, letting the sway of her dress, the tilt of her head, the small bites of her lip do the work.
You try to maintain composure, but every glance, every subtle movement, sends shivers down your spine. You feel caught, exposed, excited, and nervous all at once.
At one point, she laughs softly at something the group is saying, her eyes finding yours across the terrace. The way her gaze lingers, playful and intimate, makes your stomach tighten.
You take a deep breath, sipping your wine again. Jonah nudges you gently from behind. “Go on… she’s giving you every signal. Just… do it.”
Finally, Sophia steps closer, just enough that you can feel the heat of her body. She tilts her head slightly, eyes softening, lips just barely parted. Your heart races.
You step forward slowly, unsure. She doesn’t move. She’s letting you take the lead, but her hand brushes yours just enough to guide it toward hers.
You meet her gaze. “…Sophia,” you whisper.
She smiles faintly, a mixture of mischief and warmth. “…Yeah?”
Before you can overthink it, you lean in. Your lips brush against hers, tentative at first, soft and careful. She sighs softly, pressing closer, her hand finding yours properly now, intertwining your fingers.
It’s electric. Your pulse races, your cheeks burn, but it feels natural, right. Safe. Thrilling.
When you pull back slightly to catch your breath, her eyes sparkle. “…Took you long enough,” she murmurs, teasing but warm.
Without breaking contact, she takes your hand firmly, tugging you toward the villa. The rest of the group is still chatting and laughing on the terrace, oblivious to the intensity between you two.
“Come on,” she whispers, voice low and intimate, guiding you through the sliding doors. “I want to… talk. Privately.”
You follow, heart hammering, mind spinning, but every step is confident because her hand in yours grounds you, anchors you.
Once inside, she lets go of your hand for just a moment to wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you close. The warmth of her body, the lingering scent of her hair, the playful but serious glint in her eyes… it makes everything else fade away.
“…I’ve wanted this for a while,” she admits quietly, just enough for your ears.
“…Me too,” you whisper, heart racing.
And in that moment, everything clicks, the teasing, the flirtation, the care, the tension from the week, all culminating in the warmth of her embrace, your hands intertwined, the villa suddenly feeling like your own little world.
Sophia leans in first, but not with the same urgency as before. This time her lips meet yours in a way that feels deliberate, almost reverent, like she’s savoring the moment as much as the kiss itself. Her mouth moves against yours with a warmth that spreads through your chest, and when her tongue brushes yours, it’s not a battle but an invitation. You let her guide the pace, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes the world fall quiet around you.
Your hands slide from her waist to the backs of her thighs, feeling the soft give of her skin beneath your fingers. When you lift her, she lets out a surprised, breathy laugh against your lips, her arms instinctively tightening around your shoulders. She presses a gentle kiss to your neck, not rushed, just soft and lingering, the kind that sends a shiver down your spine because it feels so affectionate.
You lay her down on the bed, and she sinks into the sheets with a look that pulls you right back toward her. You move over her slowly, giving her time to follow your motion, your hand bracing beside her while the other traces the curve of her thigh. Your touch is unhurried, almost teasing, and her breath catches as if the anticipation alone is overwhelming.
Her fingers slip behind your neck, pulling you closer, not out of urgency but out of longing, like she needs you near. You take your time easing her dress off, letting the fabric fall away as your lips wander from her mouth to her jaw, then to the warm skin of her neck. She exhales shakily, her hands tightening on your shoulders as if she’s trying to memorize the feeling of you.
You move lower, kissing her with a tenderness that makes her whole body soften beneath you. Every reaction she gives, the quiet sighs, the way her back arches, the way she whispers your name like it’s something precious, pulls you deeper into the moment.
You settle between her thighs, your arms wrapped around them, holding her gently but securely. You press slow, lingering kisses along her skin, each one drawing a soft tremble from her. Her hands slide up your back, fingertips tracing your spine, her voice warm and breathless as she murmurs your name again, like she’s giving it to you.
The sunlight slips softly through the curtains, dust motes floating lazily in the air. You stir, blinking against the warm glow, and realize immediately, you're not alone.
Sophia’s head is resting on your chest, her arm draped lazily across your torso. Her hair is tangled lightly in yours, and the faint warmth of her body pressed against yours makes your heart beat faster.
“…Mmm…” you murmur, half-asleep, still tangled in the afterglow of last night.
Sophia stirs, stretching luxuriously, a mischievous little smile curling on her lips as she tilts her head up. “Morning,” she whispers, voice soft but playful.
You feel a sharp sting along your neck, glance down, and realize, her teasing from last night has left its mark. A faint hickey blooms on the sensitive skin of your neck.
“…Sophia… you left a hickey!” you whine, trying to cover it with your hand, face heating instantly.
She giggles softly, eyes sparkling with amusement. “…You’re way too sensitive,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Makes me feel good… making you feel good.”
You groan, flustered, and nuzzle closer into her warmth. “…I can’t believe you…”
“You should be used to it by now,” she teases, pressing a quick, soft kiss to your temple before settling back against your chest. “…But don’t worry—I’ll take care of you.”
Eventually, you both stir fully, rolling out of the tangled mess of sheets and arms. Sophia slips into a casual dress, teasingly brushing against you as she moves, making your cheeks heat all over again.
You fumble with your own clothes, suddenly shy and awkward in a way you weren’t all week. Every glance at her makes your chest flutter, every brush of her fingers against yours as she passes you in the room sends a jolt through your body.
By the time you’re both ready, you’re painfully aware of how flustered you are. Words stumble out of your mouth in broken sentences. Sophia just smiles knowingly, brushing your arm lightly as she passes.
You go your way to meet the guys, and Sophia heads toward the girls. Almost immediately, the girls notice her radiant grin.
Megan leans forward eagerly. “So… how was it?”
Sophia smirks, eyes sparkling as she gushes softly. “Amazing… seriously. I don’t know why Gabriela even existed if she could have this every day,” she says, voice dripping with glee. “They worshipped me… every inch, so careful, so… attentive. I’ve never felt so spoiled.”
The girls giggle, nudging each other. “Ohhh, we see why you’re glowing,” Lara whispers.
Meanwhile, with the guys, Jonah notices your shy, fidgety energy immediately. “Woah… someone’s extra quiet this morning,” he teases, grinning.
“…I’m fine,” you mumble, cheeks already pink.
“Uh-huh,” Jonah says knowingly, elbowing you lightly. “Sure you are. Did you leave half your brain on the floor of that villa last night?”
David and Orlando laugh softly, teasing you further as you bury your face in your hands. “…I—shut up,” you groan.
Later, everyone gathers for lunch on the terrace. Sophia sits beside you, casually leaning close. The second her fingers brush lightly against the back of your neck while adjusting your hair, or she presses a soft kiss on your shoulder as she laughs at something someone says, your heart leaps.
Every touch, every glance, every tiny playful nudge makes your face heat like the sun itself. You’re completely aware of how close she is, how she’s deliberately teasing you, lingering near your neck and arm, and you can’t help the way your chest hammers, how your hands clench into your lap, how your eyes flicker to hers without being able to look away.
The group notices. Megan and Yoonchae exchange amused glances. Daniela and Lara whisper quietly. Jonah and the guys grin knowingly, nudging you subtly with elbows.
Sophia catches your gaze briefly, grinning, brushing a strand of hair from your face, pressing your arm lightly against yours. “…You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she whispers, voice soft and intimate, making your cheeks burn even brighter.
You can barely respond. “…S-Sophia…” you murmur, voice thick, heart racing.
She giggles softly, leaning closer, fingers tracing lightly over your arm and the back of your neck. “…I know,” she says. “…And I love it.”
Later in the afternoon, the group has dispersed a little. Megan sidles up to you quietly, away from the others, her grin gentle but knowing.
“So… what’s really going on with you and Sophia?” she asks softly.
Your heart immediately jumps into your throat. You feel your cheeks burning, your brain scrambling for an answer. “…I… I… I don’t know,” you stammer, voice barely above a whisper.
Megan raises an eyebrow. “You mean… you’re still figuring it out?”
You nod quickly, flustered. “…Yeah… I mean… I just… I like her… a lot… and I want to… treat her right, but… I just don’t… I don’t know how fast this should go.”
Megan smiles gently, patting your shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just… be honest with her, and the rest will follow.”
You manage a small, soft smile, thinking of Sophia waiting nearby. Even now, your gaze keeps drifting to her, and every glance makes your chest flutter. You’re still smiling, still treating her like a princess, but every touch she gives, a brush of her fingers against your hand, a laugh that lingers near your ear, makes your stomach twist with nervousness.
Eventually, Sophia sidles over, eyes soft but curious. She notices your distant expression, the small blush still coloring your cheeks. She reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
You fidget, shrug, trying to smile lightly. “…I… I’m just… spiraling a little,” you admit, voice low. “…I don’t… I think maybe it’s too early… Gabriela’s only been gone a couple of days, and I… I don’t know if I’m ready.”
Sophia tilts her head, eyes softening. “Hey…” she whispers, brushing her thumb lightly over your hand. “…We’ve talked about this. The relationship had been going badly for months before this. Gabriela… she was already moved on long before anything ended. You don’t have to rush anything. You can move at your own pace.”
You look down, swallowing hard, heart racing. “…Really?”
“Really,” she assures, voice gentle but firm. “We can go as slow as you want. There’s no hurry, no pressure.”
“I’m still scared sometimes,” you admit quietly.
Sophia squeezes your hand. “I am scared too sometimes.”
“Really?” you ask surprised as you look up.
“I was scared you’d regret last night,” she admits softly.
“Never”. You lean slightly into her side, still holding her hand, giving her soft, shy smiles. She presses a quick kiss to the top of your hand, brushing her fingers through yours. The two of you act like a couple for the rest of the day, holding hands, brushing against each other, sharing small smiles and glances but the pace is calm and comfortable, just the way you need it.
The rest of the vacation feels lighter. Every time she touches you, you get a little flutter in your chest, a little blush, a little nervousness, but it’s sweet, safe, and full of affection. You can laugh together, tease each other, and enjoy the closeness without any pressure.
Sophia’s confidence balances your nervous energy perfectly. You hold hands, steal soft kisses on the cheek or forehead, and bask in the intimacy of small touches and whispered words. The day ends with warmth, smiles, and a feeling that no matter how slowly things move, this is exactly where you both want to be.
The sun rises softly, painting the sky in pale gold and pink. You and Sophia decide to take a quiet walk along the shore before breakfast. The sand is cool under your feet, the waves lapping gently at your ankles.
She drifts closer to your side, brushing her fingers lightly against your hand. Without thinking, you lace your fingers with hers, holding them just a little tighter than usual. Every step beside her, every brush of her arm against yours, sends shivers down your spine.
“You’re quiet,” she teases softly, glancing at you with a playful grin. “Still thinking about yesterday?”
“…Maybe a little,” you admit, cheeks heating instantly. “…I… I just… I like being with you.”
Her smile softens. “I like being with you too,” she says, fingers tightening around yours. “…Even if you’re a little flustered all the time.”
You laugh nervously, brushing your thumb along the back of her hand. “…I can’t help it when you touch me like this.”
Sophia smirks, leaning slightly closer so her shoulder brushes yours. “…Good,” she murmurs. “…I like seeing it.”
Back at the villa, the rest of the group gathers for breakfast. You sit next to Sophia, still holding her hand lightly under the table. Every time she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, presses a quick kiss to your shoulder, or rests her hand on your bicep, your face heats up, and your words stumble.
Megan and Yoonchae exchange knowing glances across the table. Daniela whispers to Lara, “Look at them… they’re practically glowing.”
Jonah nudges you gently. “Careful, you’re blushing again.”
“I… I’m fine,” you stammer, cheeks burning, heart hammering.
Sophia leans in, playful and intimate, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “…Not fine, love,” she murmurs, smiling. “…Adorable, but not fine.”
You shiver, catching your breath, and she laughs softly, brushing her fingers lightly along the back of your neck. You squeeze her hand, holding her close despite the teasing from everyone else.
Later, everyone lounges around the pool. Sophia sits beside you on a lounge chair, lightly draping a towel over your legs when the sun gets too hot. Every touch, her brushing your arm, her fingers finding yours, soft nuzzles to your shoulder, makes your chest race and your cheeks burn.
Megan leans toward Yoonchae, whispering with a grin: “Look at them… completely flustered. I love it.”
“Yeah,” Yoonchae whispers back. “And Sophia knows it too. She’s loving every second.”
Even the guys notice. Jonah smirks, nudging you quietly. “You’re basically a puddle every time she’s near.”
“…Shut up!” you whisper, bright red, squeezing Sophia’s hand tighter.
She just laughs softly, brushing your hair behind your ear and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “…I love seeing you like this,” she murmurs, voice warm and playful. “…So shy, so flustered… all mine.”
As the afternoon winds down, you and Sophia slip away for one last private walk on the beach. The others are busy packing or chatting further up the shore. You’re both barefoot, sand sticking to your skin, fingers intertwined, hearts still racing from the day.
She leans close, brushing her cheek against yours. “…I’m going to miss this,” she murmurs softly, voice intimate. “…Being here with you, seeing you like this…”
You smile shyly, pressing your forehead to hers. “…Me too,” you admit. “…I’ve never felt… this happy.”
Sophia grins, squeezing your hand. “…We don’t have to rush anything when we get back,” she whispers. “…But I want more moments like this. With you.”
You nod, heart hammering, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “…Maybe a date when we’re back,” you murmur.
“…Absolutely,” she says, resting her head briefly on your shoulder. “…And until then… we can still be us.”
You squeeze her hand gently, leaning into her, smiling softly. “…Yeah. Just us.”
The sound of the waves, the soft warmth of the sun, and Sophia’s presence beside you make everything feel perfect. No rushing. No pressure. Just the two of you, slowly building something real, tender, and entirely yours.
Hi, I love your autistic reader stories, they are really good representation and make me believe that one day I too will have a baddie that loves my autism. Could you do a gender neutral autistic reader x Manon fic? I noticed you don’t write for her as much as Sophia and Daniela so I get it if not
Hii. Thank you so much! It’s really fun writing a character that would fit me and is relatable for so many other people.
I can definitely write one for Manon. The reason why I mainly write for Dani and Sophia is because they are my favourites 🙃
hii, i loveddd you sophia x autistic reader story it’s soo cute and it’s really uncommon to see works with a neurodivergent reader so that’s really cool to see <3
I wanted to ask if you’re willing to do more hcs about their couple, especially during sexy times?
(feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable with suggestive content)
Yes I will try! I haven’t really written sexy times before, nor am I really into sex myself but I can definitely try.
If not I understand I love anything w autistic rep.
hiii. Yes i’ve gotten this a couple of times, so I will see what else I can add. I’ve also been thinking about rewriting it, or maybe an alternative universe where you end up with one of the other girls.
Summary: Sophia’s been hiding someone, someone who makes her calmer, softer, and completely undone. When the dorm accidentally meets her secret partner, chaos, jealousy, softness, and unexpected domesticity unfold… and suddenly the secret doesn’t feel so secret anymore.
Author's note: english is not my first language. This is just 5k words of bullshit, but I liked the idea. The execution not so much, but it had been stuck in my head for a couple of days.
Sophia was hiding something.
Lara was absolutely, cosmically certain.
It started small, microscopic, really, the kind of thing only someone who lived with Sophia long enough to memorize her breathing patterns would notice.
Sophia smiling at her phone.
Not just smiling.
Soft smiling.
The kind of smile people get when they’re looking at baby animals or someone they’re secretly in love with.
Then came the “walks.”
Sophia didn’t take walks. Sophia hated walks. She called them “aimless cardio.” And yet suddenly she was stepping out for them like it was a spiritual calling.
She’d return with coffee, cheeks pink from the cold, hair a little messy, and somehow… calmer. Softer. Like someone had pressed a reset button on her entire soul.
Then came the late‑night giggling.
That was the final straw.
At 1:12 a.m., Lara walked into the kitchen for water and froze mid‑step.
Sophia was perched on a stool at the counter, the only light in the room coming from her phone screen. Her face was illuminated in this warm, gentle glow, and she was smiling down at the screen like someone had just whispered something sinful and sweet in her ear.
Then she giggled.
Actually giggled.
Lara backed out of the kitchen like she’d just spotted a rare, endangered creature and didn’t want to scare it off.
She didn’t even drink the water. She went straight to Daniela’s room.
Daniela opened the door half-asleep, hair sticking up like a confused hedgehog.
“…why are you staring at me like that?”
Lara walked in with the gravity of someone delivering world‑altering news.
“Sophia is in love.”
Manon shot upright from the other bed like she’d been launched by a spring.
“What??”
“I just saw her giggling at her phone. In the dark. Alone,” Lara whispered dramatically. “No one giggles alone unless there’s a person involved.”
Daniela blinked slowly.
“…or a funny video?”
“No. This was soft giggling.”
Manon gasped, clutching her blanket.
“Oh my god. She has been acting different.”
Daniela rubbed her eyes, thinking.
“…she does disappear a lot.”
“And she never lets anyone touch her phone,” Lara added, pacing like a detective connecting clues on a murder board.
Manon hugged a pillow to her chest.
“Do you think she’s secretly dating someone??”
Lara folded her arms with the confidence of someone who had already solved the case.
“I don’t think. I know.”
The next morning, Sophia walked into the living room humming.
Humming.
Sophia did not hum. Sophia barely tolerated music before noon.
Everyone looked up at her like she had just walked in wearing a wedding dress.
She stopped mid-step.
“…why are you all staring at me?”
Daniela took a slow sip of her coffee, eyes narrowed.
“Good morning. You seem happy.”
“I’m always happy.”
Manon tilted her head, studying her like a scientist observing a new species.
“You’re glowing.”
“I am not glowing.”
Lara leaned back on the couch, arms crossed.
“Who were you texting last night?”
Sophia froze for half a second, just long enough.
“…friends?”
“What friends text at 1 a.m. and make you giggle?” Lara asked sweetly.
Sophia grabbed a pillow and threw it at her face.
“I did NOT giggle!”
Lara caught the pillow without breaking eye contact.
“Suspicious.”
Sophia rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out, then walked away.
But the damage was done.
The investigation had officially begun.
Two days later, everything changed.
Sophia burst out of her room like the building was on fire.
“Has anyone seen my phone??”
Everyone looked up.
She was already tearing apart the couch cushions, checking under the table, rummaging through her bag like a raccoon in distress.
“I had it this morning… I definitely had it…”
Daniela shook her head.
“Did you check your room?”
“Yes. Three times.”
Manon stood to help, scanning the room.
“Maybe kitchen?”
They all looked around.
Nothing.
Sophia was pacing now, breathing fast.
“…I need my phone.”
Lara watched her quietly from the couch, then slowly lifted her own phone like she was offering a sacred artifact.
“Use mine.”
Sophia grabbed it instantly.
“Thank you.”
She stepped away a few feet and dialed.
Everyone pretended not to listen.
Badly.
The phone rang once.
Then you answered. “Hey.”
“Hey baby,” Sophia mumbled, voice dropping into a softness none of them had ever heard.
Sophia melted instantly.
Her shoulders relaxed. Her whole expression softened. She looked… in love.
Daniela’s eyes widened.
Manon’s jaw dropped.
Lara pressed her lips together to keep from cackling.
“I can’t find my phone,” Sophia murmured.
You said something warm and calm on the other end.
Then:
“…you might’ve left it at my place.”
Sophia froze.
“Oh.”
“I’m heading to work early,” you continued. “Emergency call. But you can stop by and grab it. You still have your key?”
“…yeah.”
“Door’s locked. Just let yourself in.”
“…okay.”
“Miss you.”
Sophia turned pink so fast it was almost impressive.
“…me too.”
She hung up.
Silence.
Then—
Manon exploded.
“YOU HAVE A KEY??”
Daniela:
“BABY???”
Lara leaned back like a villain who had just completed a flawless scheme.
“I knew it.”
Sophia covered her face with both hands.
“Oh my god.”
“I’m coming with you,” Lara said immediately.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Daniela raised a hand.
“I also—”
“No one else is coming,” Sophia said firmly.
Manon clutched a pillow like it was a life raft.
“But we want to see—”
“No.”
Sophia grabbed her jacket.
Lara grabbed hers too.
Sophia stared at her like she was a personal curse.
“…why are you like this?”
“Because,” Lara replied calmly, “you said only me.”
Sophia groaned.
But she didn’t actually stop her.
The drive was quiet.
Not tense, not awkward, just… full. Like the air between them was carrying all the questions Lara wanted to ask and all the answers Sophia wasn’t ready to give.
Sophia stared out the window, jaw tight, fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh. She looked like she was mentally preparing for war, or at least for the emotional equivalent of one.
Lara stared at her openly.
“So,” Lara said casually, like she wasn’t dying inside. “How long?”
Sophia didn’t answer.
“That long, huh?”
A beat.
“…months.”
Lara blinked so hard she almost missed the next turn.
“MONTHS??”
Sophia didn’t even flinch. She just kept looking forward, cheeks slightly pink.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell us??”
“I wanted something private,” she muttered, voice small but firm.
Lara opened her mouth to argue, then stopped.
Sophia rarely asked for privacy. She rarely asked for anything. And the way she said it… it wasn’t defensive. It was protective.
Lara softened.
“…do they make you happy?”
Sophia hesitated only a second.
“Yes.”
That was enough for Lara. She didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.
You were already gone for work by the time they arrived.
Sophia unlocked the apartment door with a familiarity that made Lara’s eyebrows rise. The lock clicked, the door swung open, and Lara stepped inside—
—and immediately stopped.
“…oh.”
Your place was warm.
Not just temperature-wise, the whole space felt lived-in, cared for, intentionally soft. The lighting was gentle, the kind that made everything look a little safer. Plants sat near the windows, thriving. A couch with a neatly folded blanket. Books stacked in a way that suggested actual reading, not decoration.
A faint scent lingered in the air, something clean, something calm.
It felt like you.
Lara slowly turned in a circle, taking everything in with a growing sense of realization.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “This is… nice.”
Sophia didn’t respond. She was already scanning the room with the precision of someone who knew exactly where things usually were.
She spotted her phone on the counter. Right next to the mug she always used, snacks she likes and a hoodie that was definitely yours but she wore constantly
Lara noticed everything.
Her expression shifted from curious to stunned.
“…Sophia.”
“What.”
“You’re serious.”
Sophia didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to. She just picked up her phone, holding it like it was something precious she’d been missing for years instead of hours. Her shoulders relaxed, the tension melting out of her.
Lara leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
“So what do they look like?”
“No.”
“Tall?”
“No.”
“Buff?”
Sophia turned red so fast it was almost impressive.
“I’m not answering that.”
Lara grinned like a cat who had found the cream.
“Oh my god.”
Sophia ignored her and moved around the apartment, doing small, unconscious things, adjusting a pillow, straightening something on the counter, nudging a plant pot a little to the left.
Comfortable habits.
Domestic habits.
Lara watched quietly, her teasing fading into something softer.
“…you really like them,” she said.
Sophia nodded, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah.”
Lara smiled, genuinely, warmly.
Then immediately ruined the moment.
“I’m still going to interrogate them when I meet them.”
Sophia groaned like she was in physical pain.
“You’re not meeting them anytime soon.”
Lara raised a brow.
“We’ll see.”
Neither of them knew that by tonight…
You’d be standing at their dorm door, holding something Sophia left behind.
And meeting everyone.
The dorm was unusually quiet that afternoon. Practice had ended early, and for once no one had the energy to stir up chaos. Daniela was sprawled across the couch scrolling through her phone like she’d fused with it, Manon sat on the floor stretching with slow, deliberate movements, and Lara leaned against the kitchen counter sipping something iced while silently judging everyone in the room. Without Sophia there, she was stuck in a manager meeting, the dorm felt slightly off-balance, like a table missing one leg. Not unstable, just… incomplete.
The doorbell rang, slicing through the quiet. All three of them looked up at once.
Daniela frowned, confused. “Were we expecting food?”
Manon shook her head. “I didn’t order anything.”
The bell rang again, more insistent this time, and Lara pushed off the counter with a sigh. “I’ll get it.”
She opened the door casually, and froze.
You stood there, one hand holding a small bag, the other adjusting your sleeve like you weren’t sure if you were at the right place.
For a moment, Lara simply stared, because everything clicked at once. This was you. The mysterious someone Sophia had been hiding. The reason for the late-night giggles. The soft smiles. The walks. The glow.
You offered a polite, slightly nervous smile. “Hi… um, is Sophia here?”
Lara blinked twice, then leaned one shoulder against the doorframe like she hadn’t just been hit with the biggest revelation of the month. “She’s in a meeting,” she said slowly.
You nodded. “Ah. Okay. I just—she left this at my place.” You lifted the small bag. “Didn’t want her to think she lost it.”
Lara’s eyes flicked to the bag, then back to you, and internally she was screaming, oh she’s going to lose her mind. Out loud, she simply said, “You should come in.”
You hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
When you stepped inside, Daniela looked up first, then Manon, and both froze like someone had hit pause on them. There was a very obvious moment where they realized exactly who you must be.
Daniela sat up slowly. “…hi.”
You gave a small wave. “Hi.”
Manon glanced at Lara with wide eyes, is this happening?, and Lara gave the tiniest nod.
Daniela stood and walked over with a polite smile. “I’m Daniela.”
You introduced yourself, shaking her hand.
Manon stood next. “I’m Manon.”
You greeted her just as warmly, and the atmosphere shifted almost instantly. You weren’t awkward or overly confident; you were simply easy to be around. Comfortable. Grounded. The kind of presence that made people relax without realizing it.
Daniela noticed first. “…so you’re the one,” she blurted before she could stop herself.
Lara coughed loudly. “Daniela.”
“What? We all know!” Daniela whispered.
You laughed softly, a little embarrassed. “I guess… yeah.”
Within minutes you were sitting on the couch. Within ten, they were offering you snacks. Within fifteen, Daniela had already asked how long you and Sophia had been together. You answered with an easy honesty, never oversharing, never dodging. Manon watched you with quiet curiosity, not suspicious, just observant. She noticed how gently you spoke about Sophia, how you never bragged, how you listened fully when someone talked, how relaxed you seemed even in a new environment. She liked you almost immediately.
Lara, meanwhile, was studying you like she was solving a puzzle. She leaned against the opposite couch, arms crossed. “So,” she said, “you make her happy.” It wasn’t a question.
You met her gaze calmly. “I try to.”
A beat passed, then Lara nodded once. Approval granted.
Time slipped by easily. You helped Daniela reach something from a high shelf without making a big deal of it. You fixed a loose controller cable near the TV when Manon mentioned it. You thanked them every time they offered you anything. Small things, but they added up quickly. Soon the room felt natural, like you’d been there before.
Daniela sat cross-legged on the couch facing you. “You know she never told us anything about you.”
You smiled. “She likes privacy.”
“Yeah,” Manon said, “we noticed.”
Lara smirked. “She thought she could hide this forever.”
You laughed quietly. “She tried.”
About an hour later, the dorm door unlocked. Sophia walked in mid-sentence, talking to someone on her phone. “…yeah, I’ll review it later tonight—” She stepped into the living room, stopped, and stared. Her brain needed several seconds to process the scene: you sitting comfortably on the couch, Daniela and Manon nearby, Lara leaning against the wall looking far too pleased with herself.
Sophia slowly lowered her phone. “…hi.”
You turned toward her, and your face lit up instantly. “Hey.”
That soft smile. That familiar warmth.
Sophia’s entire system short-circuited. “You’re… here,” she said brilliantly.
Daniela burst out laughing. “Yes, Sophia. Your partner is here. In our dorm. With us. Socializing.”
Sophia closed her eyes briefly. “I see that.”
Lara folded her arms. “They brought something you forgot.”
You held up the small bag. “You left this.”
Sophia walked over slowly, like she was approaching a crime scene, and took the bag. “…thank you.”
Then she leaned closer and muttered under her breath, “They interrogated you, didn’t they.”
You whispered back, “A little.” She groaned softly.
Five minutes later, Sophia was sitting beside you on the couch. At first she kept a tiny bit of space between you, pretending she wasn’t gravitating closer with every passing second. Then your knees brushed. Then your hands. And before either of you consciously decided anything, your fingers intertwined naturally, comfortably, like they’d done it a thousand times before.
Daniela noticed immediately. She pointed at your hands like she’d just discovered a new species. “I knew it.”
Manon clapped a hand over her mouth, smiling so wide her eyes squinted. “They’re cute.”
Sophia hid her face in her free hand. “Please stop looking.”
You laughed softly beside her and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, which only made her bury her face deeper. Lara leaned back with the satisfied air of someone who had just won a long-running bet. “Well. I approve.”
Sophia peeked up at her, surprised. “…you do?”
Lara shrugged like it was obvious. “You’re calmer. Happier. Less stressed.” She gestured toward you. “They’re good for you.”
Sophia went quiet at that, her expression softening in a way she rarely let anyone see. When she glanced at you, you were already looking at her with that steady, familiar warmth that always made her shoulders drop. “…yeah,” she murmured. “They are.”
After that first day, you were supposed to be a one-time visitor, drop off the bag, say hi, leave. That did not happen. Instead, you somehow became a regular presence. Not in an intrusive way, not even intentionally. Just small visits at first: stopping by after work to return something Sophia forgot, dropping off food when she mentioned being too tired to cook, helping fix something random in the dorm. You never overstayed, never imposed, but slowly, naturally, everyone got used to you being around.
The first real hangout happened on a Friday night. Practice had been brutal, and everyone came home drained and quiet. Sophia was in the kitchen making something quick when the doorbell rang.
She looked up immediately. “…I didn’t order anything.”
Lara, sprawled across the couch, smirked without lifting her head. “Check the door.”
Sophia opened it, and her entire face softened the moment she saw you standing there with a takeout bag and two drink carriers. “You brought food.”
“You sounded tired earlier,” you said simply.
She stepped aside to let you in, and within seconds Daniela appeared like she’d been summoned by the smell alone. “…did you bring enough for everyone?”
You lifted the bag slightly. “Always.”
Daniela clutched her chest dramatically. “I love you.”
Sophia pointed at her. “Relax.”
Manon peeked from the hallway. “…is it from that place we like?”
You nodded, and she walked fully into the room. “Okay, you’re my favorite now.”
Sophia sighed. “They’re not here to replace me.”
Lara grabbed a drink from the carrier like she lived there. “Too late.”
About twenty minutes later, the door opened again and Megan and Yoonchae walked in mid-conversation, until they saw you sitting on the couch. They both froze.
You waved lightly. “Hi.”
Yoonchae blinked. “…hi.”
Megan looked at Sophia. “You didn’t tell us they were here.”
Sophia crossed her arms. “They’re allowed to be here.”
You stood politely. “Hey, I’m—”
“We know,” Megan said immediately, then paused. “…actually we don’t know much, but we know enough.”
Yoonchae stepped closer, curious. “You’re the one Sophia smiles at her phone for.”
Sophia nearly dropped her drink. “I do NOT—” You tried not to laugh.
Dinner somehow turned into everyone sitting around the living room with full stomachs and no energy to move.
Megan spotted the console first. “…do you game?”
You glanced over. “Sometimes.”
Her eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. “Wait. Actually?”
Yoonchae sat up straighter. “Play with us.”
And that was that. Controllers were handed out, the game started, and within minutes Megan was yelling, Yoonchae was laser-focused, you were calmly carrying the team, and everyone else was watching the chaos unfold. Sophia sat nearby with her chin resting on her hand, watching you with a softness she didn’t even try to hide.
At some point, she slipped away to the kitchen and returned with drinks, snacks, and extra napkins. She handed one drink directly to you first.
You looked up. “Thanks.”
She opened it for you before passing it over.
Megan paused the game. “…did she just open that for you?”
Sophia froze. “It’s just a drink.”
You took a sip. “Appreciate it.”
Lara fell sideways on the couch. “I can’t do this. This is too soft.”
Manon laughed. “She’s so obvious.”
Sophia turned pink. “I am not obvious.”
Daniela pointed. “You brought them a drink first.”
“They were closest!” Sophia insisted.
You were not closest.
An hour later, the game got intense. You leaned forward, focused on the screen, while Megan and Yoonchae were fully invested. Sophia sat beside you… then slowly leaned against your shoulder. Then closer. And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she shifted and settled sideways on your lap. You barely reacted, just adjusted one arm around her waist so she wouldn’t slide. The room went silent.
Megan slowly lowered her controller. “…oh they’re comfortable comfortable.”
Yoonchae stared. “Is this normal?”
Sophia buried her face in your shoulder. “Stop looking.”
You kept playing like nothing had happened. “Yoonchae, behind you.”
She panicked and whipped back to the screen. “WHERE—”
By midnight, the entire vibe of the dorm had shifted. What started as a tired, low‑energy evening had turned into something warm and unexpectedly lively. Megan sat on the floor near you, asking for game tips with the intensity of someone preparing for a tournament, while Yoonchae leaned against the couch beside her, listening carefully and nodding like she was taking mental notes. Daniela and Manon were laughing at something on another screen, sharing earbuds and nudging each other every few seconds. Lara watched everything from her spot on the armchair, arms crossed, looking like a director who was deeply satisfied with how her cast had turned out.
Sophia, meanwhile, had not moved from your lap. She was settled there comfortably, her back resting against your chest, her legs curled slightly to the side. At some point she started absentmindedly playing with your fingers while you talked to Megan about strategies, tracing small circles against your knuckles without even realizing she was doing it.
Megan noticed first. She stopped mid‑sentence, stared, and groaned dramatically. “You two are disgustingly cute.”
Sophia didn’t even bother arguing this time. She just hid her face against your neck and mumbled, “Shut up.”
You smiled slightly but didn’t tease her, just let her stay tucked against you while your free hand continued guiding Megan through the game.
Later, when the energy mellowed into softer conversation, Lara leaned toward Daniela and whispered, “They’re good together.”
Daniela nodded without hesitation. “Yeah.”
Manon, who had been quietly watching you explain something to Yoonchae with infinite patience, added softly, “They make her calmer.”
Across the room, Sophia laughed quietly at something you said, the kind of laugh she only ever made when she felt completely safe. Everyone noticed. No one said it out loud, but the thought passed through the room like a shared secret: Sophia chose well.
It happened again on a rare day off, no schedules, no rehearsals, no cameras, just the six of you out together for once. You’d all found a small café not too far from the dorm, quiet enough to relax but busy enough to feel normal. Sophia sat beside you in the booth, her shoulder lightly touching yours. Across from you were Lara, Daniela, and Manon, while Megan and Yoonchae had gone to order drinks and desserts. The atmosphere was peaceful in a way Sophia rarely got to experience, and she soaked in every second of it. Her knee rested against yours under the table, tapping lightly every now and then just to feel you there. You didn’t comment, simply let your hand rest over hers on the seat between you, grounding, familiar, safe.
When you stood to grab extra napkins from the counter, you asked softly, “Want anything?”
Sophia shook her head. “I’m good.”
You gave her a quick smile before walking away, and she watched you go automatically, not in a clingy way, just attentive, the way she always was.
Daniela noticed immediately. “You track them with your eyes,” she said.
Sophia looked away quickly. “I do not.”
“You do,” Manon added gently.
Lara smirked. “It’s very obvious.”
Sophia grabbed her drink. “I’m ignoring all of you.”
Then she heard it, a voice near the counter. Not yours. Someone else’s. “Sorry, I just wanted to say you look really good.” Sophia’s head snapped up. Across the café, a stranger had stepped close to you. Casual. Friendly. Clearly flirting. Not aggressively, not disrespectfully, just… interested. Sophia froze.
Daniela followed her gaze. “…oh.”
Manon blinked slowly.
“Well.” Lara leaned forward slightly, watching like she’d just been handed front‑row tickets. “This will be interesting.”
Sophia didn’t move. Didn’t stand. Didn’t speak. She just watched, her fingers curling around her cup. Not angry. Not panicking. Just very, very aware.
Daniela leaned toward her. “You okay?”
“…yeah.” But her knee had stopped tapping.
From across the café, you handled the situation with the same calm you handled everything. “Thank you,” you said with a polite smile.
Then, after a beat, “My partner’s waiting for me.”
Simple. Gentle. Clear. No embarrassment, no hesitation, no annoyance, just a statement. The stranger blinked. “Oh—sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“All good,” you said kindly. “Have a nice day.”
And that was it. No drama. No awkwardness. You picked up the napkins and drinks and walked back toward the table like nothing had happened.
By the time you returned, everyone was pretending to be normal. Badly. You set the napkins down and slid back into the booth beside Sophia. She didn’t look at you immediately, so you nudged her knee with yours under the table.
“…you okay?” you asked quietly.
She nodded once. “…yeah.” But her hand slid into yours under the table and held tighter than usual. You squeezed back automatically, no teasing, no jokes, just reassurance.
Five seconds passed before Lara spoke again, her tone casual as she sipped her drink. “So,” she said, “you handled that smoothly.”
Sophia stared at the table like it had personally offended her. You glanced at her, then back at Lara. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
Lara smirked. “Still. Respectful.”
Manon nodded. “Very.”
You shrugged lightly. “I meant what I said.”
Sophia finally looked up, eyes soft and a little unsure. “…what?” You met her gaze without hesitation.
“My partner was waiting for me.”
Her face went pink instantly, the kind of pink that crept all the way to the tips of her ears.
Daniela made a strangled noise. “Okay, that was smooth.”
Megan and Yoonchae returned to the table mid‑moment, confused by the tension in the air. “What happened?” Megan asked.
“Nothing,” Sophia said quickly.
“Everything,” Lara corrected.
Conversation moved on, but Sophia stayed quiet, not upset, just processing. Under the table, your thumb traced slow, absentminded circles over the back of her hand while everyone talked, grounding her without drawing attention.
Eventually she leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “…you weren’t bothered?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“Not even a little?” she asked, still sounding unsure.
You glanced at her softly. “Why would I be?”
She hesitated. “…they were flirting.”
“I know.”
“And you just—”
“I told them the truth,” you said simply. “I’m with you.”
No possessiveness. No ego. Just certainty. Sophia’s shoulders dropped a fraction, the tension melting out of her. She rested her head lightly against your shoulder for a moment before catching herself and sitting up again. Across the table, Lara saw everything and smiled to herself.
Later that night, back at the dorm, everyone scattered to their rooms, leaving the hallway quiet. Sophia lingered near the door with you, her expression softer than usual. After a moment she spoke, her voice low. “…I trust you. You know that, right?”
You stepped a little closer. “I know.”
She looked down briefly, then back up. “I just… didn’t like the feeling.”
You nodded. “That’s normal.” You didn’t tease her or make it dramatic, you simply reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her expression softened instantly. “…okay.” A small pause. Then, very quietly, “Stay a bit longer?”
You smiled. “Always.”
She relaxed completely.
A few days later, the dorm living room settled into that rare, soft quiet where everyone was just existing together. Sophia was perched on the corner chair, scrolling on her phone, one leg casually thrown over yours. You didn’t flinch, not even a little. Instead, you draped your arm over the back of the chair, fingers occasionally brushing along her shoulder or tracing her leg with gentle, absentminded pressure.
She sighed softly. “You’re way too comfortable,” she murmured, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
“Comfortable where I belong,” you replied quietly, your voice low and warm enough to make her blush.
Lara, sprawled on the couch with her usual smirk, perked up immediately. “Ohhh… I see how it is. Leg over the leg, hand over the chair… subtlety is dead.” Daniela and Manon exchanged wide‑eyed glances on the floor.
“Wow,” Daniela whispered, nudging Manon.
“They’re… so soft. And confident. At the same time.”
Megan and Yoonchae barged in from the kitchen with snacks, only to freeze mid‑step. “Wait… is that…?”
“Yep,” Lara said, pointing. “That’s it. That’s them. The secret weapon.”
Sophia’s face flamed instantly. “Lara!”
You leaned closer, brushing your thumb along her back as she shifted to get more comfortable against you. “Relax,” you murmured. “They’re not hurting anyone.”
Megan’s jaw dropped. “She’s literally sitting on their lap… and they’re just… letting it happen?”
“I’m aware,” Sophia muttered, hiding her smile against your chest.
Daniela whispered to Manon, “I can’t. This is… too much.”
Soon enough, the console came out again. Megan grabbed a controller with the excitement of someone preparing for battle, and Yoonchae claimed another. You and Sophia shared one for co‑op, the perfect excuse for her to snuggle even closer. Your arm stayed draped lazily over the back of her chair, occasionally sliding along the curve of her back or resting on her leg. Every time your hand moved, Sophia shifted subtly in response, pressing herself closer, curling her fingers into the fabric of your hoodie like she could anchor herself there forever.
At one point, Sophia leaned forward to adjust something in the game, and her leg slid further over yours, claiming the space without even thinking.
Manon’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh no. That’s… bold.”
Daniela nodded. “Yep. Definitely noticed. And I approve.”
Megan paused the game entirely, staring. “They’re literally letting her drape herself over them. And—oh my god, their hand is on her leg?”
Sophia flushed bright red and tried to shift away, but you gently guided her back, your hand resting along her leg with just enough pressure to remind her she didn’t need to move.
“Relax,” you whispered. “You’re fine.” Her fingers threaded through yours instinctively, curling against your palm.
“I—I just…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles along her back. “I’ve got you.”
The room went silent for a beat before Lara muttered, “Damn. Didn’t know Sophia was into… this.”
Daniela whispered, “They’re perfect for each other.”
Megan groaned, “I’m losing it.”
Yoonchae added softly, “So whipped.”
Sophia groaned and hid her face again. “Stop talking about me like that!”
You pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. Sophia melted further against you, letting her leg stay draped over yours and her back rest against your arm, completely surrendered to the moment.
By the time the game ended and the snacks were gone, Sophia still hadn’t moved. She stayed exactly where she was, warm, relaxed, half‑lying against you with her fingers still intertwined with yours. Your arm rested across the back of the chair, thumb brushing the small of her back, fingertips occasionally tracing her leg.
“Want me to carry you back to your room?” you asked softly.
Sophia shook her head. “No… I like it here. With you.”
You smiled. “Then stay.”
She shifted even closer, finally letting herself relax fully. “Always.”
And there you both stayed, comfortable, calm, and completely entwined, the center of everyone’s attention, yet entirely in your own world.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when it happened again. Practice had been canceled, sunlight streamed through the windows, and the living room glowed with that warm, peaceful quiet that only happened once in a blue moon. Everyone was scattered, Lara lounging on the couch, Daniela curled up with her phone, Manon reading on the floor. Sophia was perched on the chair that had somehow become your unofficial territory, her leg resting over yours, her fingers tangled lightly with yours. Your hand brushed along her leg or caressed her back every so often, grounding her without a word. She hummed softly, leaning against you, perfectly content.
Then you stretched and tugged your hoodie off because it had gotten warm. No one expected it. The hoodie slipped from your shoulders, revealing a fitted T‑shirt underneath, one that clung just enough to show broad shoulders, toned arms, and the kind of quiet strength that didn’t need to be shown off. The room froze. Lara nearly spilled her drink. Daniela’s mouth fell open. Manon’s book slipped from her hands. Megan and Yoonchae returned from the kitchen mid‑bite and stopped dead.
But Sophia froze the most. Her eyes widened, her leg pressed tighter against yours, and her face turned a shade of red that practically glowed. “Uh…” she whispered. “…wow.”
You tilted your head calmly. “What?”
Lara snorted. “What? WHAT? They’re insane. Sophia, look at your partner.”
Daniela pointed helplessly. “Wait. I didn’t know Sophia was into… this.”
Manon shook her head. “They’re perfect. And she’s flustered.”
Megan whispered to Yoonchae, “Why are we even alive right now?”
Yoonchae nodded. “They’re calm and Sophia is melting. This is unfair.”
Sophia buried her face in your chest. “Stop looking!”
You laughed softly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She pressed closer without thinking, draping her leg fully over yours now, fingers tightening around your hand like she needed the contact. You let your arm rest across the chair behind her, hand sliding along her back in slow, soothing strokes. “Relax,” you murmured. “ you’re mine,” you said simply.
She froze again, face heating even more, and for a moment all she could do was melt into you. Lara leaned forward dramatically. “Oh my god. Did you hear that? THEY ARE CALM. And Sophia is literally on them.”
Daniela whispered, “They’re perfect. I can’t handle this.” Manon added, “They’re helping Sophia. Helping all of us. Look — they’re already fixing the blanket on the couch without being asked.” Megan and Yoonchae clung to each other. “They’re real. Sophia actually found someone real.”
Sophia groaned and hid her face again. “Stop talking… please.” You smiled, thumb brushing her back. “No one’s talking to me. They’re talking to you.” Sophia melted completely.
Eventually the chaos faded, and the room settled again. Sophia stayed exactly where she was, on your lap, leg over yours, head resting against your shoulder. Your arm stayed around her, hand tracing slow, soothing patterns along her back.
“See?” you whispered. “Everything’s fine.”
Her breathing slowed. “…I’m okay,” she murmured.
Lara smirked from the couch. “I knew they were perfect for her. But wow. That T‑shirt… brutal.”
Daniela whispered, “Seriously. So good together.”
Manon nodded. “Can we just leave them like this?”
Megan and Yoonchae nodded furiously.
And so the dorm quieted again, filled only with the soft hum of the afternoon and the steady, grounding presence you brought, the presence that made everyone realize you weren’t just perfect for Sophia… you were perfect for all of them too.
Summary: When a bad fever makes your autism and sensory overload worse, Daniela stays by your side through everything, bringing you to rehearsal, caring for you at the dorm, and never letting you feel alone.
Author's note: english is not my first language
The first sign that you were sick was the quiet.
Daniela noticed it before anything else.
You were never loud, not really, but you always filled space. The soft tapping of your fingers against your thigh, the low hum you did when you were focused, the way you leaned against doorframes like you were built for holding things up. For holding her up.
So when she walked into the apartment and you were just… still on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at nothing, she knew.
“Baby?” Daniela’s voice softened instantly.
You looked up slowly. Your face was flushed, eyes heavy and unfocused behind the faint glassy sheen of a fever.
“…hi.”
That was the second sign. Your voice was rough, quiet. Smaller than usual.
Daniela dropped her bag immediately and crossed the room in three quick steps.
“Oh my god — hey, hey.” She crouched in front of you, warm hands coming up to cradle your face. You were always bigger than her, taller by a lot, broader, muscular in a way that made most people assume you were the intimidating one.
But right now you leaned into her touch like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
“You’re burning,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt sick?”
You shrugged weakly. “Thought… just tired.”
Your words were slightly slurred by exhaustion, processing slower than usual. Daniela knew the signs. When you got overwhelmed or sick, everything stacked, sensory input, body aches, temperature, sounds, it all hit harder.
And she hated the idea of you dealing with that alone all day.
“How long?”
“…since morning.”
Daniela closed her eyes for a moment.
You’d been alone all day. Feverish. Probably overstimulated. Probably trying to push through because you didn’t want to “be a problem,” as you sometimes said.
Her chest squeezed.
“Okay,” she said gently, shifting into full caretaker mode. “Okay. We fix this.”
You blinked slowly at her. “You have rehearsal.”
“I know.”
“You should go.”
Daniela stood, hands on her hips for exactly two seconds before she shook her head. “Nope. New plan.”
She disappeared into the bedroom, then returned with your hoodie, the heavy, oversized one you liked because the fabric didn’t feel “wrong.” She helped you sit up, movements slow and deliberate so you wouldn’t get dizzy.
“Dani…”
“Mm?”
“You don’t have to stay.”
“I’m not staying,” she said calmly. “You’re coming with me.”
That got your attention.
Your brows knit together. “Rehearsal?”
“Mhm.”
“I’ll… bother people.”
Daniela’s expression softened immediately. She crouched again so she was eye-level with you.
“You never bother anyone. And the girls love you. You know that.”
You did know. Logically.
Sophia always made sure the practice room lights weren’t too harsh when you visited. Lara had once built you a playlist specifically designed to not overwhelm you. Manon greeted you with quiet hugs instead of loud ones. Megan sent memes at 2 a.m. Yoonchae liked sitting beside you in comfortable silence.
They knew you were autistic. They’d asked what helped, what didn’t, what to avoid. None of them treated you like you were fragile, just… understood.
Still, your brain clung to the worry.
Daniela saw it happen in real time.
So she did what always worked best: she gave you structure.
“Here’s the plan,” she said gently, counting on her fingers. “We go to rehearsal. You sit in the lounge room or the corner of the studio with headphones. I check on you every break. If you feel worse, we leave. No questions. Okay?”
You processed slowly, fever making everything fuzzy. But her voice was steady. Predictable. Safe.
“…okay.”
She smiled, relief visible in her shoulders.
“Good. Now up. Medicine first.”
By the time you arrived at the studio, you were wrapped in a thick jacket, hood pulled low, a mask covering the lower half of your face mostly for comfort. Your head leaned against her shoulder as she guided you inside.
The moment the girls saw you, the energy shifted, not dramatically, not loudly. Just… softer.
“Aww, hi,” Sophia said gently, approaching slowly like she didn’t want to overwhelm you. “Heard you’re not feeling good.”
You gave a small nod.
Lara appeared with a sympathetic wince. “Fever?”
“Yeah,” Daniela answered. “They were alone all day. I’m not leaving them.”
Manon immediately moved to the side table. “I’ll grab the big hoodie blanket thing. The soft one.”
“Already lowering the lights,” Megan said, adjusting the brightness without being asked.
Yoonchae gave you a small wave and a shy smile. “Hi. You can sit near the mirrors. It’s quieter.”
The coordinated care made something warm bloom in your chest despite the fever.
Daniela squeezed your hand gently. “See? Team.”
You managed a faint smile.
She guided you to the corner of the practice room where a small couch sat. Within minutes, you were set up: blanket, water, electrolyte drink, your headphones, and Daniela’s spare beanie pulled over your head because you liked the pressure.
She crouched in front of you again.
“I’ll be right there,” she said softly, pointing to the center of the room. “If you need me, just text or wave. I’m watching.”
Your fingers curled around hers. Strong, even when sick.
“…don’t like being alone when I feel like this.”
Her expression melted completely.
“I know,” she whispered. “You’re not alone. Not today. Not ever, okay?”
You nodded slowly.
Daniela pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles before standing and jogging back to the group. Rehearsal music started soon after, not too loud. Never too loud when you were there.
Every few minutes, her eyes flicked back to you.
Every break, she came over: checking your temperature, brushing hair from your forehead, pressing quick kisses to your temple without caring who saw.
At one point you dozed off, head tilted against the wall.
When Daniela noticed, she quietly dragged the couch a little closer to where they were practicing, just enough that you’d be within reach.
Not alone.
Never alone.
The music cut off with a sharp beat and a burst of laughter.
Daniela stumbled back first, breathless, hand on Sophia’s shoulder as the two of them tried to catch their balance. Megan dropped dramatically onto the floor with a groan, and Lara clapped once, grinning.
“Okay, wait — that was actually good,” Lara said between breaths.
“No, no, the turn was still messy,” Manon replied, shaking her head, though she was smiling too. Yoonchae said something in Korean that made Sophia laugh again, the sound bright and loud in the studio.
They were still talking over each other as they moved toward the couches.
Then Daniela looked up.
Her smile softened instantly.
“…shh.”
It wasn’t loud. Barely more than a breath. But something in her tone made everyone pause.
Sophia followed her gaze first.
You were asleep.
Curled on your stomach on the couch, one arm tucked under the pillow Daniela had shoved there earlier. The heavy blanket was clutched tightly in your fist, knuckles barely visible through the fabric. Your noise-cancelling headphones covered your ears, slightly crooked like you’d put them on in a half-asleep haze.
Your face, usually alert and quietly observant, was slack with deep sleep, flushed from fever but peaceful.
Safe.
The entire room shifted.
Lara slowly lowered herself onto the floor instead of the couch, careful not to make it creak. Megan picked up her water bottle and twisted the cap back on with exaggerated gentleness. Even Sophia’s breathing seemed to quiet.
“Poor thing,” Manon whispered softly.
Daniela moved first, stepping toward the couch like she was approaching something fragile. She crouched beside you, brushing a piece of hair off your forehead with feather-light fingers so she wouldn’t wake you.
You stirred slightly, just enough to nuzzle deeper into the blanket, then settled again.
Daniela’s chest tightened in that familiar way. Protective. Tender. A little bit heartbroken.
“They didn’t sleep much last night,” she murmured quietly. “Fever kept spiking.”
Yoonchae’s expression softened. She reached over and gently adjusted the edge of the blanket so it covered more of your shoulder. “They look comfortable.”
“Yeah,” Daniela whispered. “Finally.”
Sophia glanced toward the speakers, then back at Daniela. “We can run the next part in Studio B,” she said quietly. “Smaller room.”
Megan nodded immediately. “Yeah. Less bass too.”
Lara gave a small thumbs-up. “We’ll be quieter.”
Daniela blinked at them, a little surprised by how automatic it was. How natural it had become for all of them to shift around you without making it a big deal.
“Are you sure?” she asked softly.
Manon smiled. “Of course. They need rest.”
Daniela looked back at you.
Even curled up and half-hidden in blankets, you still looked big compared to the couch, broad shoulders rising and falling slowly, muscles relaxed in a way they rarely were when you were awake. Usually you carried tension without noticing. Usually you stayed alert for everything.
But not right now.
Right now you felt safe enough to sleep in a room full of people.
Her people.
She reached out and gently squeezed your ankle through the blanket, a grounding touch, more for her than for you. You didn’t wake, but your foot shifted slightly toward her, like your body recognized her presence even in sleep.
Daniela smiled softly.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s move.”
The girls gathered their things quietly, steps light, laughter reduced to silent grins and exchanged looks. One by one, they slipped out of the room, careful with the door so it wouldn’t click too loudly.
Daniela stayed a moment longer.
She crouched beside you again, adjusting the headphones so they sat more comfortably over your ears. Then she leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to your temple, warm lips lingering for just a second.
“Rest,” she murmured. “I’m right next door.
Your fingers tightened slightly in the blanket, but your breathing stayed slow and deep.
Daniela stood, gave you one last look to make sure you were comfortable, and dimmed the lights a little more before slipping out to rejoin the others.
Leaving the door just barely open.
So you wouldn’t feel alone when you woke up.
The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the quiet.
Not the comfortable kind.
The wrong kind.
Your eyes opened slowly, heavy with fever and sleep. For a moment everything felt distant and foggy, like you were still halfway inside a dream. The couch beneath you was warm. The blanket still clutched in your hands. Your headphones pressed against one ear, slightly crooked.
Something felt off.
You blinked.
The music was gone.
The low hum of conversation, gone.
No soft footsteps. No familiar voices. No Daniela.
Your brain took a second too long to catch up, slowed by fever and the disorientation that always hit harder when you woke somewhere unfamiliar.
Empty.
The room was empty.
Your chest tightened instantly.
You pushed yourself up too fast, dizziness slamming into you like a wall. The world tilted, vision blurring at the edges. Your headphones slipped down around your neck as your hands clenched tighter in the blanket.
“Dani…?”
Your voice came out hoarse. Small.
No answer.
Panic didn’t arrive all at once. It crept, slow and suffocating. The kind that started in your stomach and climbed upward until it wrapped around your throat.
They were here.
They were just here.
Your breathing started to pick up, shallow and uneven. Your brain tried to process possibilities, but everything felt scrambled. Too quiet. Too empty. Too sudden.
You swung your legs off the couch and stood, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders like armor. The floor felt unsteady beneath your feet.
“Daniela?”
Still nothing.
Your heart began to pound harder. Louder. Each beat thudding in your ears. Your eyes stung with the sudden threat of tears you couldn’t quite control.
They left.
The thought wasn’t rational. Somewhere deep down you knew that. Daniela wouldn’t just leave you.
But panic wasn’t rational either.
You stepped out into the hallway.
The studio felt bigger when it was quiet. The overhead lights buzzed faintly, too bright against your sensitive eyes. Your headphones hung around your neck, forgotten, one side knocking softly against your collarbone as you walked.
Your steps were uneven. Heavy. Blanket dragging slightly behind you.
“Dani…?” you tried again, voice wavering.
Your throat tightened when it echoed faintly back at you.
Too quiet. Too big. Too alone.
Your breathing hitched. Each inhale getting shorter, sharper. You rubbed at your eyes roughly with the heel of your palm, trying to ground yourself, but the fever made everything feel distant and wrong.
You turned a corner, and nearly walked straight into someone.
“Oh — hey, hey—”
You froze.
Missy.
She stopped instantly when she saw you.
You must have looked like a mess: hair rumpled from sleep, eyes barely open and glassy with fever, blanket wrapped around you like you’d walked out of bed in a dream. Your chest was rising too fast. Your hands trembling where they clutched the fabric.
Missy’s expression shifted immediately from surprise to gentle concern.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, lowering her voice and posture at the same time so she wouldn’t overwhelm you. “You’re alright.”
You swallowed hard. “C-can’t… find… Dani…”
Your words snagged on uneven breaths. Processing felt slow, tangled. Your eyes darted down the hallway like you expected everything to vanish if you stopped looking.
Missy nodded quickly, understanding clicking into place.
“Oh, they just moved studios,” she said calmly. “They’re in Studio B. Daniela’s been checking on you every few minutes.”
Your shoulders didn’t relax. Not yet. Panic still sat too high in your chest.
Missy softened further.
“Hey,” she said gently. “You wanna come with me? I’ll take you to them.”
You hesitated, just for a second, then nodded weakly.
She didn’t touch you right away. Just walked beside you at your pace, matching your slower steps. Grounding without crowding. After a few seconds, when your breathing hitched again, she lightly rested a hand on your upper back, steady and reassuring.
“They’re gonna be really happy you woke up,” she added quietly.
You nodded again, clutching the blanket tighter.
It felt like a long walk even though it wasn’t. The hallway lights buzzed. Your head pounded. Every step felt slightly disconnected from your body. But Missy stayed beside you the whole time, calm and unhurried.
When she pushed open the studio door, music spilled out, softer than before. Familiar voices. Familiar laughter.
Daniela saw you first.
She turned mid-conversation, eyes landing on you instantly, blanket-wrapped, flushed, standing uncertainly in the doorway with Missy.
Her face dropped into immediate concern.
“Hey—”
She crossed the room in seconds.
“Baby, hey, I’m here.” Her hands came up gently to your arms, warm and grounding. “I’m right here.”
The tight band around your chest snapped.
You leaned forward without thinking, forehead pressing into her shoulder. Your hands fisted weakly in the front of her practice shirt, blanket bunching between you. Your breathing still shook, but it started to slow as her arms wrapped around you.
“I woke up… y-you weren’t—” Your voice cracked.
“I know, I know,” she murmured softly, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “I’m sorry. We moved rooms so you could sleep. I didn’t wanna wake you.”
She pulled back just enough to look at your face, thumbs brushing gently under your eyes.
“You came looking for me?”
You nodded, embarrassed and exhausted.
Daniela’s expression melted into pure softness.
“Hey… it’s okay,” she whispered. “You can always come find me. Always.”
She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, not caring about the audience.
Behind her, the other girls had gone completely quiet, not awkwardly, just respectfully. Sophia offered you a small reassuring smile. Lara gave a tiny wave. Yoonchae quietly dragged a chair closer so you’d have somewhere to sit.
Missy squeezed your shoulder once before stepping back. “Found your lost person,” she said lightly.
Daniela let out a small breathy laugh, still holding you close. “Thank you.”
Then she guided you further into the room, one arm firmly around your shoulders.
“C’mon,” she murmured. “You’re staying right here with me this time.”
When rehearsal finally ended, you were half-asleep again.
Daniela kept an arm around your shoulders as everyone packed up, your weight leaning comfortably into her side. The fever hadn’t fully broken, leaving you warm and slow and a little clingier than usual, not that she minded. Not even a little.
“Home time,” Megan announced dramatically, stretching her arms above her head. “If I do one more run-through I’m going to dissolve.”
“You say that every day,” Lara laughed.
Sophia glanced at you, then at Daniela. “You guys heading back with us?”
“Yeah,” Daniela said softly. “They need proper rest.”
You hummed quietly in agreement, eyes barely open, fingers loosely hooked in the back of Daniela’s hoodie so you wouldn’t drift too far away from her.
Manon noticed and smiled gently. “We’ll keep things calm tonight.”
The dorm was quieter than usual when you all got back.
Shoes were kicked off near the door, bags dropped carefully instead of tossed. The usual chaotic post-practice energy softened into something calmer, more mindful.
Daniela guided you straight to her room.
You’d been there plenty of times before, movie nights, late talks, quiet evenings where you sat together doing your own things. The only difference was that tonight, you were staying.
Manon was already inside, changing into comfortable clothes. She looked up when you entered, her expression immediately warm.
“Hey,” she said softly. “How’re you feeling?”
You shrugged faintly, blanket still around your shoulders. “…floaty.”
Daniela snorted quietly. “Fever brain.”
Manon smiled and grabbed her phone and charger from the bedside table. “I’ll be quiet tonight,” she promised.
“You don’t have to—” you started weakly.
“It’s fine,” she said gently. “I’ve shared rooms my whole life. This is nothing.”
Daniela shot her a grateful look before turning her attention fully back to you.
“Okay,” she murmured, guiding you toward the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little. You’ll feel better.”
The bathroom light was softer, warmer.
Daniela sat you on the closed toilet lid while she grabbed your toothbrush and a clean washcloth. Your eyes followed her slowly, movements delayed by exhaustion but comforted by the predictable routine.
“Can you brush your teeth or need help?” she asked gently.
“…can do it,” you mumbled.
She handed you the toothbrush, already prepared. Stayed close without hovering. When your movements slowed halfway through, she quietly took over rinsing it for you and set it aside without making a big deal of it.
Then came the warm washcloth.
“Lift your head a little,” she murmured.
The cloth was warm but not too hot, gently wiping your face, your neck, the back of your ears, all the places that felt sticky and wrong after a long feverish day. Her touch was slow and careful, checking your reactions constantly.
Better.
You visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping.
Daniela smiled softly. “Yeah?”
You nodded, leaning into her hand when she brushed damp hair away from your forehead.
“Comfy clothes next,” she said.
With her help, you changed into one of the oversized shirts she stole from you and soft shorts. The fabric was familiar, smelled like her detergent and faint perfume. Safe textures. Safe scent.
By the time you stepped back into the bedroom, Manon was already under her own blanket on the other side of the room, earbuds in and lamp dimmed low.
She gave you both a small thumbs-up.
Daniela guided you straight into her bed.
“C’mere.”
You climbed in slowly, muscles heavy. The moment you lay down, your body seemed to give up completely, sinking into the mattress. Daniela slid in beside you and immediately pulled you close, one arm wrapping securely around your back.
You didn’t hesitate.
You curled into her like it was instinct, forehead tucked under her chin, one arm draped across her waist, leg hooked loosely over hers. Big and strong as you were, you fit against her like you were made to.
Her hand moved to the back of your neck, gently rubbing slow circles.
“Better?” she whispered.
“…much,” you mumbled, voice muffled against her shirt.
A quiet knock sounded on the door before it creaked open.
Sophia peeked in first, followed by Lara and Megan stacked behind her like nosy cats.
“There they are,” Megan whispered dramatically. “The invalid and her devoted nurse.”
Daniela rolled her eyes but didn’t let go of you. “Go away.”
Lara leaned against the doorframe, smiling softly at the sight of you bundled together. “Aww. They look so small when they’re sick.”
You made a faint protesting noise without lifting your head. “Not small…”
Megan snorted. “You’re literally built like a tank.”
“Tank can be sick,” you muttered.
That earned a quiet round of giggles.
Sophia stepped a little closer but kept her voice gentle. “You need anything? Water? Tea?”
You shook your head slightly, already drifting.
Daniela pressed a light kiss to your hair. “They’re good. Just sleepy.”
Manon, from her bed, spoke without looking up. “If you all wake them, I will actually fight you.”
“Okay, okay,” Lara whispered, holding up her hands. “We’re leaving.”
Megan pointed at Daniela. “Text if fever gets worse.”
“I will.”
Sophia gave you one last soft smile. “Night. Feel better.”
The door closed quietly behind them.
Silence returned, warm and safe this time.
Daniela adjusted the blanket around you, tucking it under your shoulders. Her fingers traced slow, soothing patterns along your back, grounding and steady.
You sighed softly, tension leaving your body in slow waves.
“Dani…?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“…stay close.”
Her arms tightened immediately, pulling you even nearer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you.
“Always,” she murmured.
Within minutes, your breathing evened out again, deep, steady sleep returning as you stayed wrapped securely in her arms.
You woke up before your body was ready.
That was the first problem.
The second was that everything felt wrong.
Too hot. Too cold. Too heavy. Too bright even with the lights dim. Your skin felt like it didn’t belong to you, like every inch was too tight and too sensitive at the same time. Your throat hurt. Your head pounded. Even the fabric of the shirt against your shoulders felt unbearable.
You made a small, strained sound without meaning to.
Daniela woke instantly.
She always did when you were sick.
“Hey—” her voice was soft, still thick with sleep, but immediately alert. One hand came up to your face. “Baby?”
You didn’t answer right away.
Your eyes were open but unfocused, breathing already uneven. Your hands clenched in the blanket, then released, then clenched again like you couldn’t figure out where to put them.
Everything was too much.
The fever had spiked again, you could feel it in the way your thoughts dragged and scattered. Sensory input hit harder when you were sick. Normally you could manage it. Normally you had strategies.
Not like this.
Your throat made a small distressed noise before words finally pushed out.
“…bad.”
Daniela sat up immediately, concern flooding her face. She brushed her fingers over your forehead and swore quietly under her breath.
You shook your head weakly, hands coming up to your ears even though there wasn’t much noise. “Everything feels… wrong. Too loud. Too… too much—”
Your words tangled, breathing picking up. Your eyes squeezed shut as if that would block everything out. It didn’t.
Daniela shifted closer without hesitation.
“Okay,” she murmured. “Sensory overload. I got you. I got you.”
She moved gently but quickly, muscle memory at this point.
First: lights.
She reached over and dimmed the lamp even lower until the room fell into near-darkness, just a soft warm glow remaining.
Second: sound.
She glanced toward Manon’s bed.
Manon was already awake, pushing herself up on one elbow. One look at you and she understood immediately. She slipped out of bed silently and grabbed her phone and pillow.
“I’ll go to the living room,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to—”
“I know.” Manon gave Daniela a small reassuring smile. “Text if you need anything.”
Then she slipped out, closing the door gently behind her.
The room went quiet.
Third: pressure.
Daniela turned back to you instantly and slid both arms around your torso, pulling you firmly against her chest. Not loose. Not hesitant. Deep pressure, steady and secure.
You let out a shaky breath as your face pressed into her collarbone.
“Too much…” you whispered.
“I know,” she murmured. “You’re safe. Just a fever spike. It’s making everything louder. It’ll pass.”
Her hand moved to the back of your neck, applying gentle but constant pressure there, one of the spots that grounded you fastest. The other rested firmly between your shoulder blades, holding you in place so your body didn’t feel like it was floating apart.
You clung to her without thinking, fingers gripping the back of her shirt. Your body felt heavy and restless at the same time, like you needed to crawl out of your own skin.
She noticed immediately.
“Okay,” she whispered. “We add more.”
Daniela carefully reached down and grabbed the weighted blanket folded at the foot of the bed, the one they kept specifically for when you stayed over. She pulled it up over both of you, layering it on top of the regular blanket so the pressure settled evenly across your body.
The effect was almost immediate.
Not fixed. But better.
Your breathing hitched, then slowly started to deepen. Your muscles, still tense, stopped feeling like they were vibrating out of control.
“There we go,” she murmured softly against your hair. “I got you.”
“…hurts,” you whispered. “Everything hurts.”
“I know, baby.”
Her voice was barely louder than a breath. One hand kept steady pressure on your back while the other reached blindly toward the bedside table for your medication and water.
“Can you sit up a tiny bit?” she asked gently.
You whined quietly but nodded. With her help, you pushed up just enough to swallow the fever reducer. Your coordination was worse than usual; she steadied the glass for you, patient and unhurried.
Then she pulled you right back down against her chest.
No gap. No space.
You buried your face into her neck, seeking warmth and familiar scent. Daniela shifted so you were almost on top of her, your weight fully supported by her body and the mattress beneath.
Deep pressure. Containment. Safe.
Her fingers began slow, repetitive strokes along your spine, the same motion, over and over. Predictable. Rhythmic.
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Just focus on my voice, okay?”
You nodded weakly against her.
“Breathing with you,” she continued softly. “In… and out. You’re okay. Just a bad spike. It’ll come down.”
Your breaths gradually matched her pace. Still shaky, but less panicked. The overwhelming sharpness of everything dulled slightly, like the world had turned down one painful notch.
“Not leaving,” you mumbled.
The words slipped out half-asleep, half-distressed.
Daniela’s arms tightened immediately.
“I’m right here,” she whispered. “Not going anywhere. You’re not doing this alone.”
Her lips pressed to your temple, lingering.
Minutes passed like that, maybe longer. Time blurred. Fever and exhaustion dragged you in and out of shallow sleep while Daniela stayed exactly where she was, holding you through every restless shift.
At one point you whimpered softly, overstimulation threatening to spike again. She responded instantly, tightening her hold just enough, hand returning to that steady pressure at the back of your neck.
Grounding.
Safe.
Eventually your breathing deepened again, body going heavier against hers as the medication slowly began to work.
Daniela didn’t move.
Didn’t sleep.
She just stayed there, holding you through the worst of it, whispering soft reassurances every time your breathing changed, every time your fingers tightened in her shirt.
Exactly where you needed her to be.
By morning, your fever had finally started to break.
Which meant you were now in the deepest sleep of your life.
Face buried in Daniela’s neck. One arm draped fully across her torso. One leg hooked over both of hers. Your entire muscular, taller-than-her body sprawled directly on top of her like a very warm, very heavy weighted blanket.
Daniela had not moved in… an unknown amount of time.
At first, she hadn’t minded.
You were finally resting properly. Your breathing was slow and even. No distressed noises. No feverish shifting. Just deep, healing sleep. And you only got this clingy when you felt truly safe, so she let you stay exactly where you settled.
For a while.
…A long while.
Then she realized something.
She needed to pee.
Badly.
Daniela stared at the ceiling in silence.
Okay. That’s fine.
I can wait.
They’re sleeping. This is good. I will not ruin this.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Her bladder: absolutely not.
She tried a small shift.
You immediately tightened around her like a defensive koala.
Your arm flexed, not intentionally, just reflexively, but it locked her completely in place. Your leg pressed down heavier across hers.
Daniela froze.
“…oh my god.”
You let out a soft sleepy hum and nuzzled deeper into her neck, clearly pleased with your human pillow.
She stared at the wall.
“I’m going to die here,” she whispered.
Carefully, carefully, she tried sliding her arm out from under you.
Your response was instant: you made a quiet distressed noise and clung tighter, muscles engaging unconsciously.
Daniela stopped moving.
“Okay. Okay. Nope. Not doing that.”
She lay there for another thirty seconds, mentally negotiating with her bladder. Losing the negotiation rapidly.
Finally, with extreme caution, she reached one hand toward her phone on the nightstand. It took effort. You were heavy. Very heavy. Her arm stretched at an awkward angle until her fingers finally closed around it.
She opened the group chat.
Dani:
help
Sophia:
???
what happened
Dani:
i’m trapped
Megan:
LMAO WHAT
Dani:
they fell asleep on top of me
i cannot move
i have to pee so bad
A pause.
Then:
Lara:
don’t move. we’re coming.
Daniela exhaled in relief.
Thirty seconds later, the bedroom door opened very slowly.
Sophia peeked in first. Then Megan. Then Lara. Yoonchae hovered behind them, trying not to laugh already.
They all stopped when they saw the situation.
You were fully sprawled across Daniela, face smushed into her neck, blanket tangled around both of you. One muscular arm pinned her completely. You looked extremely comfortable. Extremely unconscious.
Daniela looked like a hostage.
Megan slapped a hand over her mouth.
Lara immediately turned away, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Sophia pressed her lips together, trying to stay composed. Failed. Whispered, “Oh my god.”
“I have to pee,” Daniela whispered back urgently. “Please.”
Sophia straightened like a professional. “Okay. Operation: Free Daniela.”
Megan saluted.
Lara wiped tears from her eyes. “This is the best morning ever.”
“Focus,” Daniela whisper-snapped.
They gathered around the bed like a tiny rescue team.
Sophia pointed carefully. “Okay. Megan, you take the arm. I’ll take the leg. Lara, be ready to catch if they roll. Yoonchae… emotional support.”
“I can do that,” Yoonchae nodded solemnly.
“On three,” Sophia whispered. “We move slowly. No sudden drops. If they wake up distressed, we abort mission.”
Daniela whispered, “Please don’t abort mission.”
“ONE,” Sophia mouthed.
They gently lifted your arm.
It did not move.
Megan blinked. “…why are they so strong while unconscious?”
“That’s just how they are,” Daniela said weakly.
“Okay, again,” Sophia whispered. “Gentler. And lift with the blanket.”
They tried again, this time successfully raising your arm just enough for Daniela to slide hers out from underneath. Slowly. Painfully. Like escaping a very affectionate boulder.
Progress.
Next: the leg.
Sophia carefully lifted it.
Your response: you immediately tried to follow Daniela’s body, seeking warmth, and began to roll with her.
“ABORT— no wait wait wait—” Lara panic-whispered as you started to flop sideways.
Megan lunged forward and caught your shoulder before you faceplanted into the mattress. Yoonchae grabbed the blanket. Sophia steadied your hips.
Somehow, miraculously, you resettled on the bed.
Still asleep.
Now hugging a pillow instead of Daniela.
The entire room froze.
You let out a soft content sleepy sound and nuzzled the pillow.
Everyone stared.
“…we did it,” Megan whispered.
Daniela didn’t wait another second.
She shot out of bed and speed-walked toward the door like her life depended on it. “THANK YOU I LOVE YOU ALL—”
The bathroom door down the hall slammed shut.
Silence.
Then the girls all looked at you.
You were still dead asleep. One arm thrown over the pillow. Blanket tangled around your waist. Completely unaware of the full rescue operation that had just occurred.
Daniela stepped out looking ten years younger and profoundly relieved.
“…I owe you my life.”
Megan pointed at you. “Your giant baby is still asleep.”
Daniela looked back toward the bed.
Your face was relaxed. Peaceful. Finally comfortable after a rough night.
Her expression melted instantly.
“…yeah,” she said softly. “Worth it.”
She walked back over, slipped into bed carefully beside you, and within seconds you instinctively rolled back toward her, settling against her side with a quiet sigh.
This time, she wrapped an arm around you willingly.
Sophia quietly closed the door as they all left, shaking her head and smiling.
Operation successful.
NOTES:
First of all, I wanna thank everyone for keeping liking and commenting on my posts even though I was away.
Secondly, I AM BACK.
My health really sucked and still sucks tbh. Mentally I am fine, but physically not much which kinds of bums me out, but all in all I am doing a bit better. I am going to start writing again. I still have a couple of prompts and requests laying around, but if you have a specific request, DM me or send me a request.
I know Married didn’t win the poll but I’d still love to read it if you ever decide to post it too 🫶
Yes! I am definitely going to write it, but I haven't had time yet. It's my first week working, and I need to do training and exams first, so it has been a bit hectic. But I am trying to write in between.
Summary: In a world where soulmate tattoos connect hearts, meeting Daniela sparks a bond she’s not ready to accept, but some connections can’t be ignored.
Author’s note: English is not my first language. Shorter one, because I didn't have a lot of time
The campus was quiet that night, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears and made every sound sharper. You had promised Megan you’d only swing by the arts building to drop off a book for your lit elective, but the faint echo of music pulled you down the hallway instead.
It wasn’t the casual thump of someone’s playlist leaking from earbuds. It was precise, purposeful, piano chords reverberating through the dance wing, followed by the muffled slap of feet against wood.
You hesitated outside the studio, hand brushing against the tattoo on your wrist. It had been warm all evening, buzzing faintly like static. Annoying, restless. Now, standing in front of the frosted glass door, it burned.
Curiosity overruled caution. You pushed the door open just a crack.
Inside, Daniela moved like the music had been sewn into her body. Every step was sharp, each turn a release of breath she’d been holding in. Sweat glistened on her collarbone, her hair clinging damply to her neck. She was all control and chaos at once, the kind of beauty that hurt to watch.
Your chest tightened. And then—
The fire roared.
Your tattoo seared under your skin, glowing faintly through the sleeve of your hoodie. Daniela stumbled mid-spin, eyes snapping toward you. For a moment, time fractured. Her gaze locked onto your wrist, then onto your face.
Her own tattoo, curling black lines that had always felt meaningless to her, lit up in response. Bright. Alive.
She froze.
You couldn’t breathe. The heat under your skin wasn’t painful anymore, it was alive, like recognition, like home. The stories had been true. This was it.
Soulmate.
But Daniela’s expression wasn’t awe. It wasn’t joy.
It was horror.
She dropped her gaze, yanked her sleeve down over the glowing ink, and grabbed her bag in one jerky motion. “No,” she whispered, so quiet you almost thought you imagined it. Then louder, desperate: “No, this… this isn’t—”
The words broke off. She shoved past you, the door slamming against the wall.
And just like that, she was gone.
You stood there in the empty studio, the music still playing from her speaker, your wrist still burning. The bond hummed like a tether stretched too thin, vibrating with the echo of her panic.
For the first time in your life, the tattoo didn’t feel like destiny.
It felt like a wound.
Daniela didn’t sleep that night. Every time she shut her eyes, she saw your face in the studio doorway, the way your wrist flared, the awe that flickered across your features before reality sank in. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Her soulmate was supposed to be a boy. That was how she had always imagined it: hand in hand at family dinners, her parents proud, the world nodding along in approval. She could see it so clearly, a life that looked neat, predictable, acceptable.
Not you. Not a girl.
Not a complication she wasn’t ready for.
So she wrapped a bandage around her wrist the next morning, tugged her hoodie down to her knuckles, and told herself it didn’t matter. If she ignored it, maybe it would fade. Maybe the universe had made a mistake.
You, on the other hand, woke up with your wrist still buzzing faintly, your chest aching like you’d been running for hours. It should have been the happiest moment of your life, people dreamed of finding their soulmate, of feeling that first spark. But instead, you kept replaying Daniela’s horrified expression, the way she shoved past you like you were a monster instead of the person she was supposed to be bound to.
“You look like hell,” Megan said when you finally stumbled into the café on campus. She slid your usual coffee across the table. “Rough night?”
You hesitated. Megan had always been easy to talk to, but this… this felt fragile, dangerous.
Still, the words slipped out. “I think I met mine.”
Megan’s eyes widened, coffee halfway to her lips. “Wait. What? That’s huge. That’s—why do you look like someone ran over your dog?”
You swallowed. Your wrist burned just thinking about Daniela’s face. “Because she didn’t want me.”
Megan blinked, then set her cup down slowly. “She?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks. “Yeah.”
For once, Megan didn’t tease. She just reached across the table, resting her hand lightly over yours. “Okay. Then screw her. Soulmate or not, nobody gets to look at you like you’re a mistake.”
Her bluntness made something tight in your chest loosen. You didn’t cry, not yet, but your throat burned with the effort of holding it back.
Across campus, Daniela sat on the edge of her bed, Lara, Manon, and Sophia painting nails, scrolling phones, and attempting casual conversation.
“Why are you mummifying your wrist?” Lara asked, raising a brow at the bandage.
Daniela didn’t look up. “Sprained it.”
Lara snorted. “You sprained your soulmate tattoo? That’s new.”
Manon glanced up, eyes narrowing. “You found them.” It wasn’t a question.
Daniela’s heart lurched. “No,” she said too quickly. “It’s not— It’s not her.”
Lara froze mid-stroke of nail polish, then grinned, sharp and knowing. “Her? Oh, Dani, that explains the look on your face.”
“It’s not funny,” Daniela snapped, shoving her sleeve down further. Her voice cracked. “It’s wrong.”
Manon’s expression softened, but her words were blunt. “It’s not wrong. It’s fate.”
Daniela shook her head, nails digging into her palms. She didn’t want fate. She wanted simple. Safe. She wanted the life she’d rehearsed in her head since she was a kid.
Not this burning tether tying her to you.
Daniela told herself it was harmless. He was nice enough, one of the boys from her choreography class, always offering to carry her bag, always smiling too wide. He didn’t make her skin burn, didn’t make her chest ache with every glance. He was safe. Normal.
So when he asked her to get coffee, she said yes. When he held her hand across the table, she forced herself not to flinch. And when he kissed her cheek goodnight, she told herself this was the life she wanted.
This was the life she had to want.
The whole time, her tattoo stayed quiet. Cold. Dead. But wasn’t that better than the fire?
You hadn’t expected to see them.
The library steps were crowded with students rushing between classes, but somehow the world tilted when you caught sight of her, Daniela, laughing at something he said, his arm slung over her shoulders.
Your stomach dropped. Heat ripped across your wrist, sharp and merciless. The tattoo glowed under your sleeve, the ache spreading to your ribs like your heart itself had cracked.
Daniela’s head turned just slightly, her eyes catching yours for half a second. The glow under her own sleeve betrayed her before she could look away.
But then she turned back to him. Smiled brighter. Leaned in.
Your lungs burned.
Megan’s hand clamped around your elbow, tugging you away. “Don’t,” she muttered. “She’s not worth you tearing yourself apart.”
But you couldn’t stop the tears that burned behind your eyes as you walked away.
That night, Daniela couldn’t breathe.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while her boyfriend’s texts lit up her phone: Had fun today :) When can I see you again?
She couldn’t answer. Not when her wrist was glowing like wildfire, not when the bond kept shoving your emotions down her throat.
She felt it all, the crack in your chest, the humiliation of standing there while she clung to him, the way you pressed your hand against your tattoo as if you could stop it from breaking you apart.
“I… I didn’t mean…” she whispered into the empty room. The words died on her lips. She wanted to reach out, but pride and fear held her back.
The café had become your safe place. Megan dragged you there, Yoonchae was usually there, notebook open, softly scribbling lyrics or ideas. Megan teased, Yoonchae rolled her eyes but smiled. You laughed with them, feeling a little of your weight lift, even as your tattoo flared faintly with Daniela’s distance.
Meanwhile, Daniela’s days blurred. She went through the motions with her boyfriend, but every smile felt painted on. Every night, the bond pulsed violently, reminding her she couldn’t escape you.
Lara, Manon, and Sophia tried to help, teasing, gently admonishing, offering comfort. But nothing reached her, nothing soothed the ache she carried in silence.
Every glance at you with Megan and Yoonchae twisted her stomach, jealousy burning sharper than shame.
The party was the breaking point.
Music thundered through crowded halls, bass shaking the floor. Megan had dragged you there, insisting you needed “fun, not brooding.” But the second you stepped inside, you saw her. Daniela, pressed against a wall, lips locked with her boyfriend.
Your wrist burned molten. The tattoo glowed beneath your sleeve like it wanted to scream.
Daniela saw you laughing with Megan and Yoonchae. Her tattoo flared, fury and guilt coursing through her chest. She stormed over, voice sharp.
“Stop looking at me like that!” she yelled. “I’m not! I don’t want this — I don’t want you!”
The bond pulsed violently between you. You felt her pain and fear, and it slammed into you like ice. Megan stepped forward, steady. “Enough, Daniela.”
But it was too late. Both of you hurt, both of you trapped by a bond that refused to lie.
You stumbled outside, air cool against your overheated skin. You sat heavily on a brick wall, dragging shaky breaths. Megan followed, slipping an arm around your shoulders. Yoonchae trailed behind with two cups of hot chocolate, her quiet presence grounding.
“She doesn’t want me,” you whispered, voice cracked. “But it hurts like hell.”
Megan squeezed your shoulder. “You’re not broken. She’s the one who can’t face herself.”
Yoonchae crouched in front of you, eyes soft. “Pain like that… it’s not yours to carry alone. Let us share it.”
You let them hold you, warm against the night.
Days blurred into restless fragments. You found comfort in Megan and Yoonchae’s growing love, in Sophia’s chatter, in Lara and Manon’s kindness. But Daniela drifted further into shadows.
Her boyfriend noticed too. One evening, after yet another silent dinner, he sighed. “You’re not really here with me.”
And she couldn’t argue. Because she wasn’t.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she muttered, and walked away before he could answer.
The tears came after. She ran through the streets, hands pressed to her tattoo as if she could stop it from burning. She didn’t know where she was going until she saw you.
You were leaning against the campus gates, headphones in, world closed off. When your eyes lifted and softened at the sight of her, she broke.
“Daniela?” you asked, pulling the earbuds free.
She shook her head, tears spilling faster. You stepped forward, tentative, hand hovering. “Hey… you don’t have to say anything. I can feel it.”
“Stop being so—so kind,” she choked, anger and shame colliding. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve this.”
The bond blazed. You wanted to tell her she was wrong, that she was yours whether she liked it or not. But before you could, she stumbled back.
“I can’t,” she whispered, then turned and ran.
“Daniela, wait!”
She dashed across the street, blinded by tears. She didn’t see the headlights. But you did.
Instinct overtook thought. You lunged, shoving her out of the way just as the car screeched.
Pain tore through you like fire. Then everything went black.
When you woke, the world was sterile white. Machines beeped softly. Your wrist burned.
And Daniela was there.
Slumped against your bed, her hand wrapped around yours, her face streaked with dried tears. She startled when you shifted, her eyes wide, raw, relieved.
“You’re awake,” she breathed, voice trembling. “I thought I lost you.”
You tried to smile despite the dryness in your throat. “Guess I’m harder to get rid of.”
Her lips wobbled, tears spilling again. “Why would you do that? Why would you—”
“Because you’re my soulmate,” you rasped. “When you hurt, I hurt. I couldn’t let you go.”
She let out a broken laugh, pressing her forehead against your arm. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” you whispered. “But you’re stuck with me now.”
Silence stretched between you, heavy with all the words she hadn’t said. Her shoulders shook. Then, in a voice so small you almost missed it, she whispered:
“I was scared.”
Your chest tightened. “Scared of what?”
Her grip on your hand tightened until her knuckles went white. She lifted her head, eyes bloodshot but blazing. “Of you. Of… this. When the bond lit up that day, I thought—I thought the universe was playing a cruel joke on me. Because my soulmate was supposed to be safe. Normal. A boy I could bring home without questions. Not…” Her voice cracked. “…not a girl.”
The words stabbed deep, but the tears in her eyes softened the blow. She wasn’t spitting them in rejection. She was confessing them, ashamed.
“I hated myself for even thinking it. I tried to bury it. I dated him, I laughed with other guys, I pretended I didn’t feel it every time you walked into the room.” Her chest heaved as if every word was tearing free from chains. “But I did. I felt everything. And it scared me more than anything in my life, because it meant I didn’t know myself at all. Not the way I thought I did.”
You swallowed hard, your throat raw. “Daniela…”
Her voice broke, trembling and urgent: “But when I saw you step in front of that car—when I thought you were gone—I realized I don’t care if I don’t know who I am yet. I want to find out. With you.”
Your breath caught.
“I don’t want to run anymore,” she whispered, tears slipping freely now. “I don’t want to keep pretending. I want—” Her words tangled in sobs. “I want to try. If you’ll still have me.”
You squeezed her hand, weak but steady. “Always.”
And for the first time since the bond ignited, Daniela didn’t flinch. She didn’t hide her wrist. She lifted it, letting the tattoo glow brightly against yours, burning with promise.
Weeks later, the bruises had faded, though the ache lingered. But on a grassy hill behind campus, everything felt lighter.
Blankets sprawled across the ground, snacks littered between friends. Megan and Yoonchae bickered playfully over fries, Lara tried to impress Manon with a frisbee throw, Sophia laughed so hard she nearly toppled backward.
You sat watching, warmth soaking through you. Then you felt it. The hum of the bond, gentle and steady.
You looked up. Daniela was walking toward you, hoodie sleeves pushed back just enough for her glowing tattoo to show. This time, she didn’t hide.
Megan nudged you. “Go get her.”
You stood, hand outstretched. Daniela hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into yours. The glow pulsed, not burning, not aching, just belonging.
“Hey,” she whispered. “I’m here.”
“I know,” you said, smiling. “I feel you.”
She leaned against you, soft and certain. The glow hummed steady between you as the laughter of your friends wrapped around the afternoon.
“You’re safe with me,” you whispered.
Daniela smiled, resting her head on your shoulder. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time, neither of you ran. The bond was no longer a wound. It was home.
I officially start working next Monday, and although I am really excited I won’t have a lot of time to write anymore. That’s why I will let you choose which one of these WIPs I will publish before Monday. (Maybe I’ll do even 2).
1. High School Musical – Sophia Laforteza
You’re the school’s star soccer captain, but everything changes when Sophia, the popular theatre kid, overhears you singing. She invites you into the theatre club’s big musical, but while you’re excited, your parents and teacher think it’s a bad idea. Will you follow your passion, or their expectations?
2. Soulmates – Daniela Avanzini
In this college AU, everyone is born with tattoos that link them to their soulmate. The closer you are, the stronger the bond: shared emotions, sensations, even proximity. When you meet a talented dance student, you quickly realize she’s your soulmate, but Daniela never imagined her other half could be a girl.
3. Married – Sophia Laforteza
You and Sophia have been secretly married since the age of 18, after dating for years before debut. When the group finally finds out, the revelation shakes everything, but also shows the strength of your bond.
4. Younger!Breakdancer x Sophia Laforteza
As the youngest member of another global girl group, you’re known for your dancing skills. But your heart belongs to Sophia, the leader of her own global group. Now, the challenge isn’t just the stage. it’s figuring out how to make her fall in love with you, despite the obstacles.
5. Moonbound – Werewolves
As an alpha werewolf, you’ve always felt neglected and rejected by your kind. At Dream Academy, a school filled with all kinds of creatures, you face the same treatment from other wolves. The only exception? A stunning omega who actually sees you, and who happens to be best friends with your roommate.
Summary: You weren’t supposed to see her again, Sophia, your first love, now so far away. But when fate brings you face to face, old wounds reopen, and the past refuses to stay buried. Can you find a way back, or is it too late?
Author’s note: English is not my first language.
Part one
You stood outside the house for a moment, staring up at the warm light spilling through the windows. The place felt alive even from the outside, laughter carried faintly through the walls, the kind of sound that made you hesitate before knocking.
Your chest tightened. It had been months, since you had last seen Sophia. And though you already knew this was where she lived now, with the rest of KATSEYE, seeing it in person felt surreal.
Your hand hovered over the door, trembling with hesitation. What if she didn’t want to see you? What if too much time had passed? But before you could overthink it, you knocked.
The door swung open almost immediately. Lara stood there, her hair in a messy bun, face flushed from laughter. She blinked, startled, before her expression lit up.
“Hey! You’re Sophia’s… friend, right?”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, trying not to sound too nervous.
“She’s not here right now—she went out with Yoonchae and Manon. But she’ll be back soon.” Lara stepped aside with a grin. “You should come in. Don’t stand out there like a stranger.”
Before you could decline, Megan’s voice rang out from the living room. “Who is it?”
Daniela appeared, curious, her gaze flicking to you. Her lips curled into a knowing grin. “Ohhh. It’s you.”
Your cheeks grew hot.
“I guess I’ll just wait outside—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lara interrupted, looping her hand around your arm and pulling you in.
“We’re watching a movie. You can join us until she gets back.”
The living room was warm, casual chaos, blankets thrown across the couch, bowls of half-finished snacks on the table. The girls were loud and comfortable, and you couldn’t help but relax a little. You sank onto the couch, trying not to feel out of place.
“Wait.” Daniela tilted her head, studying you with playful suspicion.
“What are you even doing here?”
Your throat tightened. For a second, you thought about brushing it off, but the truth slipped out before you could stop it.
“I just… wanted to see her.”
The room fell silent for a moment, three sets of eyes on you, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then Megan smirked knowingly, breaking the tension.
“Well, that’s either the sweetest thing I’ve heard today… or the most suspicious.”
“Suspicious?” you repeated, blinking.
“Yeah,” Lara teased, tugging you gently inside.
“Showing up out of nowhere, wanting to see Sophia—feels like a rom-com setup.”
They laughed, the teasing lighthearted but warm, and soon the tension eased.
The movie had barely started when a light above flickered and buzzed. All three girls groaned in unison.
“That stupid thing again,” Megan muttered.
“We told Sophia, but she forgot to call anyone,” Lara added.
You stood up almost without thinking.
“I can take a look.”
A chair, a few minutes, and a twist of your wrist later, the light glowed steadily again. Megan gasped dramatically.
“Handy and polite. Can we keep you?” Daniela laughed, pelting popcorn at her. Lara rolled her eyes, though she was smiling too.
Within minutes, the three of them had you laughing along, the nervousness slipping away like it had never been there.
That was the exact moment the front door opened.
Sophia stepped inside, holding a grocery bag in one hand, Yoonchae and Manon close behind. She froze mid-step, her eyes locking on you where you sat on the couch, surrounded by her bandmates’ laughter.
Time seemed to still.
Her lips parted slightly, surprise flashing before her expression softened into something warmer, gentler.
“Hey,” you said quickly, standing as if caught doing something you shouldn’t.
“Hey,” she replied, her voice careful. She set the bag down slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“They invited me in while I waited.” You scratched the back of your neck. “I hope that’s okay.”
Her smile flickered, small, restrained, but real. “Yeah. Of course.”
Lara, ever the instigator, looked between you two with exaggerated innocence. “Well, we’ll finish the movie. You two can… catch up.”
Before you knew it, Sophia had led you outside, the door closing behind you, leaving the laughter muffled in the background.
The night air was cooler than you expected, brushing against your skin with a quiet gentleness. The hum of the city lingered in the distance, but out here on the porch, it felt strangely private. Sophia leaned against the railing, her fingers playing absently with her sleeve. You shoved your hands into your pockets, suddenly unsure of what to say.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” you finally murmured.
“I was just… in the neighborhood. Thought I could say hi.”
Sophia tilted her head toward you, lips curving faintly.
“Intrude? Please. The girls were probably thrilled you fixed that light. They’ve been nagging about it for weeks.”
You let out a small laugh, scratching the back of your neck.
“Guess I was useful for something, then.”
Her smile faded into something softer. Her eyes lingered on you, quiet, searching.
“It’s strange,” she whispered. “Seeing you here again. Like nothing’s changed… but everythinghas.”
The weight of her words sank deep. You knew what she meant, the years of distance, the paths you both had taken, the sacrifices it all demanded. You nodded slowly.
“I know. But I’m proud of you, Soph. You made it happen. You followed your dream.”
She looked down, almost embarrassed, her fingers tightening around her sleeve.
“It wasn’t easy. Sometimes I wonder if… if I left too much behind.”
Your chest tightened.
“You didn’t. You did what you had to do. And look at you now.” You gestured faintly toward the house, the faint laughter still drifting through the windows.
“You’vebuilt something incredible.”
Silence stretched, comfortable and aching all at once. Then, almost in a whisper, she admitted,
“I missed this. Talking to you. Just… you and me.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and your heart clenched. Slowly, you stepped closer, careful not to close the distance too fast.
“I missed it too.”
Her eyes finally rose to meet yours, glistening under the porch light. For a heartbeat, the world stilled. It was as if you were both back home, sitting under the Philippine night sky, before fame and distance had pulled you apart.
But then she exhaled, breaking the moment. “It’s late. You should probably head home.”
You nodded reluctantly, even though every part of you wanted to stay.
“Yeah… you’re right.”
Still, when you turned to leave, her hand caught your wrist, gentle but firm. You froze, heat rushing through you. She held on for only a second before letting go, her voice soft.
“Thanks for coming by.”
And though it wasn’t a promise, it carried something fragile, something unfinished. Enough to make you hope.
~
It started small.
A text from Sophia the next morning:
“Thanks for fixing the light last night lol. The girls keep saying we need to hire you as our official handyman.”
You couldn’t help but smile at your screen. Your thumbs hovered before typing back:
“Tell them I accept payment in coffee and popcorn.”
Her reply came quicker than you expected, playful, familiar, like no time had passed at all.
And soon it wasn’t just Sophia.
Megan started sending you memes at random hours of the night. Lara teased you about being the “dad of the house.” Daniela asked if you knew anything about faucets because theirs wouldn’t stop leaking. Yoonchae spammed the group chat with pictures of every meal she cooked, demanding ratings.
One by one, the girls folded you into their world like you’d always belonged there. And Sophia? She didn’t stop them. She never pushed you away, if anything, she seemed quietly relieved to have you around.
~
The next week, you found yourself cross-legged on their living room floor, surrounded by takeout containers and half-empty bubble tea cups. Yoonchae had insisted you join them for dinner, and nobody had given you a chance to say no.
“You’re seriously like… the group’s guardian,” Megan said between bites, pointing her chopsticks at you.
“Fixing lights, fixing sinks, bringing snacks—”
“—putting up with our chaos,” Lara cut in, grinning.
That earned a round of laughter, loud and warm, echoing through the apartment. But when you glanced at Sophia across the table, she wasn’t laughing like the others. She was watching you quietly, her smile softer, almost private, like there was something only the two of you understood.
And that look lingered long after the dinner ended.
~
Later that night, when most of the girls had disappeared into their rooms, you found yourself alone with Sophia on the couch. The glow from the TV flickered against her face, but neither of you were really watching.
“Sorry if they’re too much,” Sophia murmured, tucking her knees against her chest.
“They can be… overwhelming sometimes.”
You shook your head.
“They’re great. Honestly? It feels nice. Like I get to see this whole other side of your life.”
Her lips curved slightly as she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
“And you fit right in.”
The warmth in her voice settled in your chest like a secret.
The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was familiar. The kind of silence where you didn’t need to speak, because being there was enough.
Your eyes drifted to her hand resting on the blanket, close enough that if you shifted even slightly, your fingers would brush. But before you could decide if you were brave enough, the moment was interrupted by Megan’s door swinging open.
“Hey, handyman,” she called groggily.
“The bathroom light’s flickering again. Thought you should know.”
You and Sophia both burst into laughter, the fragile tension breaking like glass.
~
The next morning, you woke up to a group chat notification from Daniela:
“New rule: if you visit, you have to fix something.”
A flood of laughing emojis followed, Megan adding:
“Guess who’s coming back tomorrow 😏”
And then, right after, a message from Sophia. Separate. Quiet.
“Thanks for last night. It was nice.”
Your heart tightened at the words.
Maybe this wasn’t just about being the group’s handyman.
Maybe, just maybe… this was the beginning of something finding its way back.
~
It was Yoonchae who texted you first.
“Sophia’s not doing well today. Can you come?”
You didn’t even hesitate. Your bag was packed before you could think, and within an hour you were at their place, arms loaded with groceries. The door opened to a chorus of relief.
Megan snatched the bags from your hands, Lara immediately started peeking inside to see what you brought, and Daniela muttered something about finally getting a proper meal.
“She’s in the backyard, ” Lara whispered, lowering her voice as though Sophia might hear.
“She hasn’t really spoken to anyone since she got back from practice.”
You nodded, wiping your palms on your jeans. The house buzzed with the girls’ chatter, but your focus was already outside, already on her.
Sophia was sitting on the back steps, knees pulled close, her phone dangling loosely from her hand. Her hair was a little messy, pulled into a bun that was half undone, and from the way her shoulders slumped, you could tell she was carrying a weight too heavy for her small frame.
“Hey,” you said softly as you stepped closer.
Her head turned quickly, eyes wide with surprise before softening at the sight of you.
“What are you doing here?”
“Yoonchae said you were having a hard day.” You lifted the bag of vegetables in your hand with a small shrug.
“I brought food. Figured I’d cook for you guys.”
Her lips tugged upward, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, I did.” You lowered yourself onto the step beside her, careful to leave just enough space.
“Talk to me, Soph.”
For a moment, the silence stretched. She stared at the sky, blinking too fast, her hands twisting in her lap. Then, finally, her voice cracked through the quiet.
“The hate… it just gets to me sometimes,” she whispered.
“No matter what I do, there are people waiting to tear me apart. I try to ignore it, but…
” Her words faltered, and when she spoke again, they were thinner, breaking.
“Sometimes it feels like I’ll never be enough.”
Your chest ached. You hated the tremor in her voice, hated the tears brimming in her eyes, hated that she could ever believe something so far from the truth.
“Sophia…” you leaned a little closer, your tone low, steady, the way you used to speak when calming her late-night fears.
“You’re like a Disney princess. Beautiful, kind, talented. You bring light everywhere you go.”
She shook her head, tears threatening to spill.
“But not everyone thinks that.”
You leaned closer still, so close that your words brushed her ear.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll always be my princess.”
The moment held, fragile, tender, as you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. It lingered, not rushed, just long enough for her to feel the truth in it.
Sophia’s breath shuddered, and for the first time that day, she let herself rest against you.
Her head fell softly onto your shoulder, her weight leaning into you like it belonged there.
And for the first time that day, she looked at peace.
The world seemed to pause. You could’ve stayed there forever, but after a few quiet minutes, you pulled back just enough to see her face.
“Go wash up. I’ll finish dinner. Trust me, the girls are starving, and I promised them a feast.”
Her laugh was small, shaky, but real. She nodded, standing slowly. “Okay.”
Dinner was loud. Warm. A blur of clinking chopsticks and laughter bouncing off the walls.
You’d cooked too much, but somehow the table emptied quickly with seven hungry girls devouring everything in sight.
“Are we sure they are not secretly a chef?” Megan groaned dramatically, patting her stomach.
“We should hire her permanently.”
“Seconded,” Daniela added, raising her chopsticks like a gavel.
“House rule: they're on call for all future meals.”
The room erupted in laughter, a chorus of playful cheers and teasing. But while the others argued over which dish was the best, your gaze kept sliding to Sophia.
She barely spoke that evening. She didn’t need to. She just sat there, quiet but present, watching you with a soft, unreadable smile. And though she joined the laughter here and there, you could tell, it wasn’t the food that mattered most to her. It was you.
Later, when the chaos settled and the apartment went quiet, you found yourself in her room.
A small movie glowed on her laptop screen, the sound turned low so as not to wake the others.
Sophia was curled against you on the bed, a small bowl of ice cream in her hands. Her favorite flavor, the one you’d made just for her earlier, because you remembered.
“Where did you even learn to make this?” she asked softly, spoon pausing halfway.
You smirked.
“Years of practice. You forget how many times I had to cheer you up with this back home?”
Her laugh was soft, muffled against your shoulder.
“I didn’t forget.”
You stayed like that the rest of the night, not as a couple, not yet, but something close.
Something familiar, wrapped in comfort and memory.
And as she dozed off lightly against you, you thought to yourself:
This was dangerous. Because if you weren’t careful, you’d never be able to let go again.
~
When the moving vans pulled up to your building, you didn’t think much of it. People came and went all the time. But when you spotted familiar faces lugging boxes up the front steps, you nearly dropped your grocery bag.
“Wait—no way.”
Megan noticed you first, her hair tied up in a messy bun, a box balanced on her hip.
“Ohhh look who it is! Guess we’re neighbors now.”
You blinked, stunned.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Daniela appeared behind her with another box.
“Management thought it would be easier for us to live closer to each other. Turns out this place had space. Lucky us.”
“Or lucky you,” Megan teased with a smirk.
And then you saw them, Sophia and Yoonchae, side by side, carrying bags into the lobby.
Sophia stopped in her tracks when she saw you, wide-eyed.
Yoonchae grinned mischievously. “Looks like fate wants you two stuck together.”
Sophia shot her a look, but Yoonchae only laughed, running ahead with her box.
~
The days that followed blurred into organized chaos. You helped carry furniture upstairs, fixed a shelf that broke mid-move, and brought cold drinks when the LA sun got too heavy.
At first, it was casual, neighborly. A polite smile here, a quick wave there. But soon, it was impossible to ignore how often Sophia and you crossed paths.
Morning coffee runs turned into walking back together. Evening grocery trips ended with her trailing behind you, bag of chips in hand, because “your snacks are always better.”
The girls teased relentlessly. Megan started calling you “maintenance girlfriend.” Lara insisted she saw Sophia smile differently around you. Even Yoonchae, who was usually subtle, left an eyebrow raised every time she caught Sophia wandering down the hall to your place.
~
One night, a knock came at your door.
When you opened it, Sophia stood there in sweats, hair tied back, holding two cans of soda.
“Yoonchae fell asleep, and the others are busy,” she said with a shrug.
“Wanna watch something?”
You stepped aside instantly, and she slid past you like she belonged there. She flopped onto your couch, legs tucked beneath her, and popped open a can.
“You know,” you teased, sitting beside her,
“if you keep coming over, people are gonna think you live here too.”
Sophia smirked, sipping her drink.
“Maybe I do.”
It was a joke. Probably. But when halfway through the movie she leaned against your shoulder, you didn’t move away. Neither of you said anything, but the silence felt louder than words.
~
Weeks passed, and your apartment became a second home for the group. The girls spilled in and out, raiding your fridge, stealing your Wi-Fi, fighting over your controller when game nights ran too long.
You didn’t mind. In fact, you welcomed it.
Because in the middle of all that noise, Sophia was there.
Sitting beside you at dinner, sneaking your hoodie when she was cold, rolling her eyes when the others teased but never denying it. Her presence was steady, familiar, the kind of warmth you hadn’t let yourself believe you’d feel again.
And every now and then, when the laughter died down and you caught her looking at you, really looking, you knew she felt it too.
~
One evening, after everyone else had gone, Sophia lingered at your doorway.
“Thanks for today,” she said softly, twisting the soda can in her hands.
“It’s… nice. Having you around again.”
You studied her for a moment, the curve of her smile, the softness in her eyes. The years apart, the distance, the heartbreak, all of it seemed to dissolve right there in your hallway.
“Yeah,” you murmured, voice quiet but certain.
“It’s nice having you, too.”
And though neither of you said it out loud, the truth hung heavy in the air between you:
Maybe fate really had brought her back.
Maybe this time, it wasn’t planning to let go.
It had been weeks since Sophia moved into your building, and every day pulled you closer to her. The movie nights, the grocery runs, the way she’d curl up on your couch and fall asleep with her head resting against your arm, it all felt so natural. Too natural to ignore.
And yet, a question gnawed at you every night: were you still just friends, or something more?
~
One quiet evening, the apartment was unusually still. Yoonchae had gone out with Megan and Lara, leaving the building almost eerily empty. Sophia asked you to come over, her hair tied loosely, sweatpants hanging comfortably, holding a bag of ingredients in one hand.
“I thought we could cook together tonight,” she said softly, you stepped inside.
The two of you moved almost silently in the kitchen, chopping vegetables, stirring pasta, and sneaking glances at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking. You set the table by the window, the city lights twinkling like stars beyond the glass, the soft hum of traffic below filling the space between you.
For a long while, only the sound of forks clinking against plates punctuated the quiet. Your chest was heavy, your pulse echoing in your ears. You set your fork down, hands trembling slightly, and finally spoke.
“Soph,” you said, low and unsteady.
She looked up, eyebrows raised, curiosity lacing her expression.
“Yeah?”
You swallowed hard, words threatening to choke you, but you pushed them through the lump in your throat.
“I can’t keep pretending this is nothing. I still love you. I never stopped. And I… I want us again. I want to be with you.”
The air seemed to freeze. Her fork paused mid-air, clattering softly against her plate.
Sophia’s eyes softened immediately, but there was panic there too, a storm you knew all too well. She set her fork down carefully, as if afraid to break the fragile moment.
“I…” Her voice trembled, catching in her throat.
“I love you too. You know I do. But I… I can’t. Not right now.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
“Why not?”
Her hands shook slightly as she reached for her glass.
“Because my life… it isn’t mine anymore. It’s schedules, rehearsals, cameras, fans watching everything I do. I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t risk dragging you into this world either.”
You shook your head, desperation creeping into your voice.
“I don’t care about the cameras, Soph. I care about you. That’s all I’ve ever cared about.”
Her lips quivered as she whispered,
“I’m scared. I’m scared of the distance, the pressure, the hate. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
Her words struck like a dagger. You leaned back, struggling to hold back the sting of tears.
“So… what? I just keep being close enough to love you but not enough to actually have you?”
Sophia’s tears finally slipped free, trailing down her cheeks.
“I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to keep you either.”
Your chest felt like it was being crushed. The silence stretched, heavy and unbearable, until you couldn’t take it anymore. You rose, trembling, grabbing your jacket.
“Then maybe I should go before I fall apart completely,” you said, voice breaking.
Her voice cracked as you reached the door.
“Please… don’t hate me.”
You turned back, eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“I could never hate you, Sophia. That’s the problem.”
And with that, you left, leaving the apartment in a haunting quiet.
~
Inside her apartment, Sophia crumbled. She sank onto the couch, knees pulled up, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Not long after, Yoonchae returned, dropping her bag in alarm when she saw her leader curled in on herself, face buried in her hands, eyes swollen.
“What happened?” Yoonchae asked, rushing to her side, concern etched in her voice.
Sophia shook her head, letting out a shuddering breath.
“I… I pushed them away. Again.”
Yoonchae sat beside her, arms wrapping around her in a protective hug. “Unnie… you love them. We can all see it. Why are you fighting it?”
Tears slid down Sophia’s cheeks as she whispered, “Because if I let myself have them again, and I lose them… I don’t think I’d survive it this time.”
Yoonchae tightened her hold, her voice soft but firm.
“Then don’t lose them. Hold on. You deserve to be happy too. You deserve to let yourself love them.”
Sophia buried her face into Yoonchae’s shoulder, the warmth and understanding seeping through her, melting the walls she’d built around her heart.
Somewhere in the distance, the quiet hum of the city filtered in through the window, a reminder that life went on outside, but here, in this small apartment, she was allowed to be vulnerable. Allowed to feel. Allowed to hope.
And maybe… just maybe, she realized, holding on wasn’t weakness.
The days after your confession were heavy.
You avoided the girls’ apartment, avoided the hallways where you might run into her. Every familiar spot felt like a trap, the corner café where she liked her iced latte, the lobby bench where you’d joked late at night, the elevator that had carried you both home after long days.
Your own apartment felt too quiet, too hollow. Every shadow reminded you of her laugh, her smile, her voice, and the ache of not being enough for her this time.
You told yourself you’d move on. You’d survived losing her once before. But this time was different. Sharper. Brutal. You’d tasted what it was like to have her back, even for a little
while, and the memory clawed at your chest like fire in winter.
Every text from her that didn’t arrive. Every notification that wasn’t from her. Every little thing became unbearable. You replayed your last words over and over in your head, wondering if there had been a way to convince her, a way to hold her without terrifying her with your own love.
It was past midnight when you heard the knock. Three soft raps against your door, hesitant but urgent. Your heart froze in your chest.
You dragged yourself from bed, limbs heavy, mind a whirl of fear and hope, opening the door slowly, and froze.
Sophia stood there, hood pulled up, eyes red-rimmed, lips trembling. The second your gaze met hers, she broke.
“Please,” she whispered, voice raw and trembling.
“Don’t shut me out.”
Before you could even respond, she stepped forward, throwing her arms around you, clinging like she was afraid you’d vanish if she let go.
“I tried,” she sobbed against your chest. “I tried to tell myself it’s too hard, that it’s better to let you go. But I can’t. I can’t do it again. I can’t lose you.”
Her confession hit you like a physical blow. Every moment apart, every night you’d spent pretending you were okay, crashed into that single sentence. You held her tighter, your chest aching as the walls you’d both built finally crumbled.
“Soph…” you whispered, voice breaking.
She pulled back just enough to look at you, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m terrified. Terrified of the fans, of the distance, of everything. But I’m more terrified of waking up one day and realizing I pushed away the one person who’s always loved me — no matter what.”
You cupped her face in your hands, thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks.
“I don’t care about the cameras, the schedules, the hate. All I care about is you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted — just you. Always you.”
She closed her eyes, letting herself feel it, letting herself trust you again. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Just the quiet sound of your breathing, mingling, filling the hollow spaces that had haunted both of you for weeks.
Then she leaned in.
The kiss was hesitant at first, delicate, unsure, like she was testing if this was real, if you were really here. But when you pulled her closer, it deepened into something messy and desperate, raw with all the emotions you’d both bottled up for so long. A kiss that said: I missed you. I love you. Don’t leave me again.
When you finally parted, her forehead rested against yours. Both of you were trembling, hearts hammering.
“So… what now?” you asked softly, voice thick with emotion.
Sophia sniffled, a small, watery smile tugging at her lips.
“Now… we try. No matter how messy it gets. No more running.”
You let out a shaky laugh, pressing your lips to her forehead.
“God… I’ve been waiting years to hear you say that.”
But even as she melted into your arms, a shadow lingered. She rested against you, but you could feel the tremor of fear in her hold, a quiet reminder that the world outside would always try to intrude, that nothing would ever be easy.
And yet… you didn’t care.
That night, she stayed. Not as a guest, not as a memory, but as something real again.
Something fragile, but yours.
And when you woke up with her tangled in your arms the next morning, sunlight spilling through the blinds, you knew: this time, you weren’t letting go. Not ever.
The sunlight spilled softly through your apartment windows, casting warm light across the small kitchen.
You stood at the stove in your black shirt and loose pajama pants, hair still wild from sleep, flipping pancakes with one hand while stirring scrambled eggs with the other. The smell of sizzling butter, eggs, and maple syrup filled the room, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee that had been brewing all morning. For the first time in weeks, everything felt… right.
From behind you, Sophia’s arms wrapped around your waist. Her chin rested on your shoulder, and she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” she murmured, her voice still husky from just waking up.
You laughed, tilting your head back slightly to look at her.
“Morning, princess.”
Sophia smiled, squeezing you gently.
“You really didn’t have to make all this just for me.”
“Maybe not,” you teased, “but someone had to make sure you don’t survive on instant noodles and sadness.”
Before Sophia could reply, a loud pounding came at the door.
“Breakfast! Are you guys awake?!”
It was Lara and Megan, voices overlapping as they barged in, half-asleep but impossibly cheerful. Yoonchae trailed behind, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
You glanced at Sophia, who stifled a laugh behind her hand.
“You didn’t tell them we were having a… private breakfast,” she whispered.
“They’ll never know,” you said with a grin, flipping a pancake.
The girls piled into your apartment like a storm, shoving each other playfully, still in pajamas, hair messy, eyes barely open but full of energy. They grabbed chairs, mugs, and plates, claiming spots at your small table while you dodged Megan, who was trying to steal the last pancake.
Sophia leaned against you, still hugging your waist, letting out a soft laugh as you gently nudged her to make space for the girls.
“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, resting her head against your chest.
“I know,” you said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “But I like being ridiculous for you.”
Chaos ensued in the kitchen. Eggs splattered, flour dusted the counters like fresh snow, and a pancake on the edge of the skillet threatened to burn. Lara shrieked when a stray pancake flipped up near her arm. Yoonchae tried to “help” but only managed to knock over a mug, sending a small splash of coffee onto the floor. Megan was laughing so hard she nearly dropped the butter.
Through it all, Sophia moved naturally, serving plates and teasing the other girls like she’d always been the mom of the group.
“Careful, Megan,” she said, handing her a plate with a wink.
“You’re not allowed to eat all the chocolate chips first.”
You caught her glance once, soft and tender, her eyes saying everything words couldn’t. She mouthed, I love you.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, brushing your thumb gently over her cheek before she ducked behind the table to distribute scrambled eggs to the others.
The chaos eventually settled into contented chatter. By the time everyone had eaten, your kitchen looked like a small disaster zone: syrup dripped along the counter, crumbs clung to chairs, and a little flour dusted the floor. But none of it mattered.
You and Sophia sank onto the couch afterward, leaning against each other, sticky fingers from pancakes and chocolate-smeared ice cream from last night still clinging to your hands.
The girls lounged around, teasing you both mercilessly.
“Look at them,” Megan said, nudging Lara. “The domestic couple of the year.”
“Seriously, ” Lara added, grinning. “It’s like they’ve been married for a decade already.”
Sophia laughed, resting her head on your shoulder. You wrapped an arm around her, squeezing gently, feeling the warmth and weight of her against you.
At one point, Yoonchae leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “I swear, you two are even cuter than the pictures from when you were teenagers.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Teenagers?”
Megan pulled out her phone.
“Oh, you’re about to see what I mean…” She swiped through a few pictures, and you both groaned in embarrassment, Sophia laughing through her blush.
Even amidst the teasing, you couldn’t stop watching her, the way she laughed, the curve of her smile, the soft way she settled against you. For the first time in a long while, surrounded by the people you loved, including her, finally yours again, life felt simple, warm, and utterly perfect.
And when Sophia squeezed your side and whispered, “Stay like this forever, okay?” you could only nod, holding her a little tighter, silently promising yourself and her that you wouldn’t let go.
Life with Sophia back in your arms felt like a dream, messy, loud, but full of warmth.
The girls had officially moved into the same building as you, two per apartment. That meant spontaneous visits were the new normal. Sometimes you’d hear giggles and footsteps outside your door, and moments later, Lara and Megan would appear with coffee, Yoonchae with snacks, and Sophia always somewhere in the middle, pulling you along by the hand.
You’d find yourself sitting on the couch, flipping through a book or scrolling on your phone, only for Sophia to pop up behind you, draping herself across your shoulders like she owned you.
“I made coffee,” she’d murmur, pressing a kiss to your temple, “but you have to drink it with me.”
One evening, you were curled up on the couch, Sophia perched on your lap, her head resting against your chest, as you watched a cheesy rom-com she had picked. The girls were scattered around the apartment, each making casual comments, teasing you both relentlessly.
“You guys are ridiculous,” Sophia murmured, nuzzling your neck.
“Not as ridiculous as you, acting like the mom of the group,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She laughed, shrugging. “Someone has to keep you in line. Someone has to make sure everyone eats vegetables.”
The banter continued, full of warmth, until Yoonchae piped up, “You two are like… the dad and mom of this little chaos family.”
Sophia rolled her eyes, pretending to scold you. “And you are the dad. Take your responsibilities seriously.”
You grinned, pulling her closer. “Yes, ma’am.”
Small, seemingly insignificant moments made your days together feel extraordinary: Sophia leaving a sticky note on your laptop to remind you to drink water; you hiding her favorite chocolate behind the cereal boxes so she’d find it after a long rehearsal; Lara taking sneaky photos of the two of you, whispering,
“They’re too cute, we have to document this.”
One night, after the girls had gone to bed, the two of you lay tangled in your bed, the apartment quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. Sophia’s head rested on your chest, and you traced patterns on her back.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered. “All of this… us… it feels unreal.”
“Unreal, maybe,” you said, kissing her temple, “but it’s ours. Every chaotic, messy, wonderful bit of it.”
You pulled her closer, letting the silence stretch, only broken by the distant sound of a siren or a passing car. It was ordinary, yet perfect, every shared glance and gentle touch a reminder of what you’d fought to get back.
The fans were quick to notice, too. Pictures of you two from years ago surfaced, teenage versions of yourselves, shy and awkward, holding hands and smiling at the camera. They were adorable. But the new pictures were what captured hearts: Sophia laughing as you carried groceries up the stairs, her curled into your side on the couch, the girls teasing both of you while you tried to cook dinner, or sneaking onto the balcony to watch the sunset together.
Fan comments poured in: “They’re perfect together!” “They’re basically couple goals!” “Welove seeing how much they love each other and their bandmates!”
Through it all, the message was clear: you and Sophia were back. Not perfect, not without challenges, but together. And no matter the distance, the schedules, or the chaos, this, you, her, and the little family of friends around you, was exactly where you belonged.
Even the small moments mattered: the quiet mornings where she made coffee just the way you liked it, the late-night movies where she fell asleep curled in your arms, the teasing over breakfast pancakes or burnt toast. Life wasn’t flawless, the girls still raided your fridge, arguments over whose turn it was to do dishes still erupted, but it was full. Full of love, laughter, and the kind of warmth that made every struggle outside the apartment fade into nothing.
And as you held Sophia close, watching the morning light dance across the walls, you realized something simple and true: home wasn’t a place. Home was wherever she was, and now, she was finally back in your arms.
Your apartment was quiet that evening, softer than usual. Sophia had gone out for a quick run with Yoonchae, and the girls were busy elsewhere. You adjusted the small box in your pocket for the hundredth time, your heart hammering in your chest.
Weeks ago, you had asked her parents for permission. Their blessing had given you courage, but now, standing alone in your apartment, you felt the nerves creeping back.
You checked the ring one more time. Perfect.
The sound of the door opening made you jump. Sophia appeared in the hallway, casual at first, unaware of what awaited her.
“Hey,” she said, smiling softly. “Did you finish that thing you were working on?”
You nodded, forcing your expression to be normal.
“Yeah. Just… tidying up a bit.”
She tilted her head, suspicion flickering in her eyes.
“You’ve been acting weird lately. Are you… seeing someone?”
Your chest tightened.
“What? No. Absolutely not. I just… wanted tonight to be special.”
Sophia’s eyebrows furrowed, but before she could press further, you grabbed her hand gently.
“Come with me,” you whispered.
You led her to the rooftop of your building, fairy lights twinkling along the railing and soft music playing from your phone. The city sprawled below, alive and vibrant. Sophia’s eyes widened as she took it in, the disbelief clear.
“You did all this?” she asked, voice trembling.
You nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Sophia… I’ve loved you for years. Even when we were apart, even when I moved away… it never stopped. And I can’t wait any longer to tell you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She blinked at you, searching your face, voice caught somewhere between joy and fear.
“You… what are you saying?”
You dropped to one knee, the small box open to reveal the ring glinting in the rooftop lights.
“Sophia, will you marry me? Will you be mine forever?”
For a moment, silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the city. Then, her hands flew to her face, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Yes… yes, of course!”
You slid the ring onto her finger, standing to pull her into a tight embrace. She laughed and cried into your chest, heart racing.
“I can’t believe you did this. I was so suspicious, but this… this is perfect.”
“I wanted it to be just us,” you said, brushing hair from her face.
“No interference, no chaos, no one else. Just you and me.”
Sophia pressed a soft kiss to your lips, whispering, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
And for the first time in years, there were no doubts, no distance, no hesitation. Just the two of you, together, with the city as your witness.
It had been a few days since the rooftop proposal. Sophia wore the ring proudly, hiding the secret excitement behind her usual calm demeanor, while you grinned every time your hands brushed hers. The girls had no idea… and you weren’t quite ready to tell them.
That afternoon, Lara and Megan barged into your apartment, as usual, carrying a stack of snacks and a board game.
“Where’s Sophia?” Lara asked, dropping herself onto the couch.
“She’s… taking a shower,” you said casually, trying not to smile too big.
Megan’s eyes flicked to your hand.
“Uh… your hand? Wait—what is that?”
You froze, hand mid-motion as if it were ordinary.
Lara leaned forward.
“Is that… a ring?”
Sophia stepped out of the bathroom behind you, towel wrapped around her hair. You reached for her hand instinctively, and she glanced down at the sparkling band.
The room erupted.
“Oh my god!” Megan shouted, jumping up.
“You’re engaged?! When? How? Why didn’t we know?!”
Lara clapped her hands over her mouth, trying to keep her squeals in check.
“Wait, wait… you didn’t tell us? We’re your best friends! We demand details!”
Sophia laughed, leaning into you.
“It was supposed to be a private moment.”
“But you didn’t tell us?” Lara repeated, eyes wide.
“We almost suspected… and then we thought they were cheating on you!”
You and Sophia exchanged a glance, and she chuckled softly, shaking her head.
“No one was cheating. I promise.”
Daniela, who had been sitting quietly, finally spoke up.
“Wow… I mean, they asked your parents’ permission, right?”
Sophia nodded, and Daniela grinned.
“Good. Very good. You guys are so cute! I can’t wait to see the look on the fans’ faces.”
The next week, the world discovered the news. Sophia and you had kept it under wraps online, but one photo of you two from the rooftop, Sophia laughing as you slid the ring onto her finger, had been snapped by a curious neighbor. Within hours, it went viral.
Fan accounts exploded.
“They’re ENGAGED!!! 😭💍”
“The cutest couple in history!”
“Okay but can we talk about how long they’ve been together??”
Comments streamed in, sharing old pictures from years ago, teenage versions of yourselves, awkward and shy, holding hands at concerts or school events. Fans marveled at how far you’d come.
The engagement became a celebration for the community. Sophia’s bandmates teased her mercilessly in interviews, knowing the truth now but keeping the details fun and lighthearted.
Through it all, you and Sophia held onto each other. In private, there were quiet moments, holding hands in the kitchen while cooking, laughing at the girls’ relentless teasing, stealing kisses when no one was looking. The love was unconditional, playful, and tender, just as it had always been, only now with the promise of forever.
And when the fans saw the two of you together, in pictures or videos, they didn’t just see a famous singer and her partner. They saw two people who had grown together, fought for each other, and found a home in each other’s hearts, and they couldn’t help but cheer along.
I love your writing but that is not how people with ADHD are😭, like yes we are easily distracted, but not that much, and also we aren't that impulsive that we'd shave our heads just because it's itchy, the way you wrote ADHD was very exaggerated, made it seem like we're a child.
I hope you don't take this as hate or anything, cause I do love the way you write and the fact that you're quite inclusive in your writing. Love lots❤️.
I wanna be honest, I used ideas from the anon and also did my own research about ADHD. Since I don’t have it myself (and don’t know a lot of people who do), it was really difficult to write and I sat on it for a couple of days before posting. I know it definitely came out a little exaggerated, I did the same thing with the autism one too.
What I do know is that everyone’s ADHD is different, so I tried to combine info from the internet with what the anon shared, hoping there’d be at least a little something for different kinds of experiences. I just want to make it clear I didn’t mean to stereotype or hurt anybody. I only wanted to write it in a way that feels recognizable, not to reduce anyone’s experience. 💙
Summary: Boundless ADHD energy, chaotic adventures, and unexpected confessions, Y/N keeps Katseye on their toes, while Manon might just be the calmin the storm.
Author’s note: English is not my first language.
To the anon who requested this: I really hope I fulfilled your request. It was my first time writing a request, but I really enjoyed it!
Ngl i was kinda scared to post this 🙈
The Kats had learned to live with your… energy.
At first, they thought you were just eccentric. Like when you showed up to rehearsal with three different song ideas scribbled on napkins and declared, “We’re reinventing K-pop today!” Or when you once brought a stray cat into the dorm insisting, “It followed me, it’s fate.”
The practice room was filled with muffled beats of the track, sneakers squeaking against polished wood. Everyone was stretching, warming up. Everyone… except you.
You were on the floor, scissors in hand, dramatically cutting up a piece of neon tape into tiny stars.
“Y/N… why are you making… stickers?” Sophia’s leader-tone was already creeping in, though she tried to sound gentle.
You looked up, grinning from ear to ear. “For my water bottle! Look, it’ll help me remember it’s mine, so I won’t lose it!”
Sophia blinked. “You lost it yesterday.”
“And the day before,” Megan added, smirking.
“And at least three times last week,” Daniela teased.
You just shrugged, holding up your masterpiece. “Yeah, but not anymore! Problem solved.”
Manon laughed, flopping down beside you. “You’ve been at this for thirty minutes. We’re supposed to be dancing, genius.”
“Right, right—dancing. Totally. I’ll just—oh wait, one more star—” You snipped another tiny neon piece.
Sophia groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I don’t even know why I bother trying to start rehearsal on time with you around.”
“I bring the energy!” You beamed proudly, scattering a few stars across the floor. “Can’t have a rehearsal without a little pizzazz!”
Lara crouched down, picking up one of the fallen stars. “Pizzazz is one thing, but this is… glitter chaos.”
“Chaos fuels creativity,” you said dramatically, waving the scissors like a tiny wand. “Do you feel the inspiration?”
Daniela leaned closer to Manon, whispering. “How do you even… manage this?”
Manon shrugged, still laughing. “Honestly? You can’t manage it. You ride the wave or drown. I prefer surfing.”
You shot Manon a playful grin. “Exactly! See? You get it.”
Sophia sighed, shaking her head, but her voice softened a little. “Fine… one more star, but then we start rehearsal.”
“Deal! Deal!” You hopped up, holding the finished water bottle like a trophy. “And… maybe just a tiny constellation on my notebook too—”
Manon smirked, nudging your shoulder. “You’re ridiculous. But I love it.”
You froze, mid-snip. “Love… what?”
“Your chaos. Your energy. Even when it makes everyone else lose their minds.”
You blinked at her, heart thumping. “…Oh. Cool. Cool cool cool.” You quickly grabbed another piece of tape, muttering, “Right, back to the stars. Priorities.”
Manon just laughed, shaking her head as you enthusiastically dived back into your neon constellation project. Sophia groaned in the background, Megan rolled her eyes, and Lara muttered something about glitter in her shoes, but somehow, with Manon laughing beside you, it all felt… perfect.
~
Later that week, the group was filming behind-the-scenes content. Everyone was crowded together, joking into the camera, waving props around, and trying to make each other laugh.
“Katseye is working hard!” Yoonchae chirped, flashing a peace sign with both hands.
Without thinking, you leaned into the camera, eyes wide, and blurted out: “Except when Sophia yells at us.”
The room froze. Even the background music seemed to pause. Sophia’s jaw dropped.
“WHAT?!” she gasped, half-offended, half-laughing, hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”
You scrambled, waving your hands like a flailing bird. “I didn’t mean it like that! You’re just… you know… loud. Like… mom-loud. In a good way! Helpful loud! Like an alarm clock! No—wait, maybe more like a motivational speaker! Yeah, super motivating. Not scary!”
“Y/N. Stop talking.” Sophia’s voice was deadpan, but there was a twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide, as the others howled with laughter.
Manon, sitting on the floor leaning against the wall, couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh my god,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You did not just compare Sophia to an alarm clock.”
You peeked through your fingers. “It’s not insulting! It’s… kind of true?”
Daniela snorted, elbowing Megan. “Only Y/N could turn a compliment into a… verbal tornado.”
Megan, tears forming from laughing, added, “I can’t even with you.”
Sophia, now trying to regain composure, muttered, “You’re lucky I love you… even when you make me sound like a household appliance.”
Manon leaned closer to you, still chuckling. “See? You’re… chaotic, but hilarious. Honestly, I don’t think anyone else could pull it off like you do.”
You grinned, letting your hand fall, then immediately pointed at a random prop on the table. “Ooooh! Speaking of which, why is this flamingo here? Can we make it do choreography?”
Manon just shook her head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible. And I adore it.”
You winked, bouncing on your heels. “Exactly! Impossible but adored! That’s me!”
The camera continued rolling, capturing your rambling antics, Sophia’s exasperated glare, and Manon’s quiet amusement, the perfect behind-the-scenes chaos that was somehow perfectly you.
~
“Five, six, seven, eight—”
You nailed the first few moves of the choreography, laser-focused, arms sharp, feet perfectly in sync. The others shot each other impressed glances, this was you at your best.
But then, halfway through the chorus, you froze.
“Wait, wait, wait!” You clapped your hands together, eyes wide and sparkling. “What if—hear me out—we flipped the formation here, and then added, like, frog jumps for emphasis?”
Everyone blinked. Yoonchae paused mid-spin, Megan tilted her head, and even Lara’s eyebrows nearly touched her hairline.
Management sighed audibly. “No frogs.”
You pouted dramatically. “Why not? Frogs are—”
“Focus,” Sophia cut in gently, though the corner of her lips twitched like she was barely holding back a smile.
It wasn’t that you didn’t care. You cared too much. Your brain just wanted to be everywhere at once, spinning new ideas, filling gaps, chasing sparks. Some days, the medication helped. Some days it didn’t.
Today? Total chaos.
By the third run, you’d:
Forgotten the chorus twice.
Dropped your mic pack.
Gotten distracted by a moth near the ceiling.
Tried to fix a lighting panel mid-step because “it looked sad.”
Daniela whispered to Manon, “Do we… tell them?”
Manon shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s just ride it out.” She knew you, the highs, the lows, the unpredictable energy that could light up a room or knock over half the set.
Meanwhile, you bounced on the balls of your feet, muttering half-lyrics under your breath, occasionally stopping to scribble ideas in a notebook you’d brought along.
Sophia approached cautiously. “Y/N, maybe just… finish the run this time?”
“I am finishing!” you insisted, spinning mid-step, then hopping over where you thought the frog jump should go. “See? Efficient chaos!”
Megan sighed, grabbing your arm gently. “You’re… something else, you know that?”
You beamed, nodding furiously. “I know! That’s the point!”
Manon sidled closer, murmuring in your ear, “You’re a tornado, but… you’re our tornado.”
You froze for half a second, distracted by the warmth of her voice, then suddenly flipped your attention back to choreography. “Oh! Also—maybe we can add a tiny disco ball here for sparkles? It’ll really sell the frog jump!”
Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose, but couldn’t hide the smile threatening to escape. “Just… try to remember the steps this time, alright?”
By the end of rehearsal, you were panting, hair messy, notebook full of half-formed ideas, and a glittery smudge somewhere on your cheek from a stray decoration. The Kats had exchanged a few knowing glances, a mix of amusement, exasperation, and awe.
It was then that they started to piece it together: this wasn’t just “quirky chaos.” This was you. ADHD in motion, brilliant and wild and exhausting, and somehow, totally magnetic.
Manon stayed a moment longer after everyone left, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “You know,” she said softly, “maybe we don’t need frog jumps. But I’d follow you through every chaotic idea you have, if you wanted me to.”
Your head snapped toward her, mouth half-open, already distracted by a thought about adding glitter to the next formation. “Wait—what?”
She laughed, leaning close. “I said… I like your chaos. It’s… kind of perfect.”
You blinked, mind racing a hundred directions, but somewhere in that moment, amidst the chaos, it clicked. You didn’t have to apologize for being yourself.
~
The group was supposed to leave for rehearsal at 3 PM. At 2:59, you were sitting on the dorm couch, cross-legged, surrounded by half-finished projects: a notebook with new lyrics, a coloring book with doodles spilling off the page, and your phone with five alarms snoozed. A crumpled pencil rolled across the floor.
“Y/N, let’s go!” Lara shouted from the door, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.
“Yep! Just two more minutes,” you chirped, eyes fixed on adding a tiny doodle of a unicorn to your notebook.
Daniela groaned, dragging a hand through her hair. “Two more minutes means twenty more minutes for you. We always run late because of you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said cheerfully, stuffing your notebook into your bag. “I’m efficient! Organized!”
Manon, sitting nearby on the armrest of the couch, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You look efficient. Like a tornado wrapped in glitter.”
“Exactly!” you agreed, tossing a colored pencil into the air and catching it. “Tornado efficiency is very effective. You should try it sometime.”
“Can’t,” she said, laughing. “I’d get swept away.”
Just as you zipped your bag, your eyes landed on your phone. “…Wait.” Panic flitted across your face. “…I left it on the couch. Again.”
Sophia, leaning against the doorway, pinched the bridge of her nose. “Of course you did.”
Megan smirked. “At this rate, we’re going to miss the bus.”
You hopped up, flinging your bag aside and dashing back to grab your phone, but of course, it slipped under the couch cushions. You muttered, tugging it out like a magician fishing a rabbit from a hat.
“Eventually counts as success!” you said, beaming.
Daniela shook her head, tugging on her own bag strap. “You’re ridiculous. And somehow… this is our daily chaos routine.”
Sophia groaned. “I swear, one day, I’m going to start leaving without you.”
“Don’t!” you called, waving wildly as everyone started heading out the door. “I promise I’m part of the choreography, part of the energy, part of the… essential chaos!”
Manon caught up to you, looping her arm through yours as you walked. “And you know what?” she murmured with a teasing grin. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Your chest warmed, distracted by the compliment, and by the fact that, for once, someone seemed to actually understand the whirlwind that was you.
~
It had been a long day of rehearsal. Hours of spins, jumps, and endless repeats had left you overstimulated, drenched in sweat, and running on the kind of mental exhaustion that made every sound feel sharper and every instruction heavier.
Every correction Sophia gave felt like a jab, even though you knew she didn’t mean it that way. But your brain was on overdrive, bouncing between self-criticism, fatigue, and all the little unfinished ideas spinning in your head.
When Sophia said, “One more time, Y/N, you keep missing the beat,” something inside you snapped.
“I’M TRYING, OKAY?!” The words burst out louder than intended, echoing off the studio walls.
The room went still. Yoonchae froze mid-step, Megan’s jaw dropped, and even Daniela paused with her arms crossed.
Your chest felt heavy, and your eyes stung as tears threatened to spill. “I… I can’t—” you started, your voice shaking.
Sophia opened her mouth, probably to apologize or explain, but the words never came. Instead, it was Manon who stepped forward without hesitation. She slid an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently to the side, away from the middle of the room.
“Hey,” she murmured softly, leaning close enough for only you to hear. “Breathe. You’re okay. I get it.”
You swallowed hard, leaning into her warmth, feeling her steady heartbeat against your temple. “I… I feel like I can’t do anything right today,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Manon tilted her head, brushing a damp strand of hair off your face. “Hey… look at me. You can do it. You’re just… overloaded. That’s all. Doesn’t mean you’re failing.”
“I feel… stupid,” you mumbled, eyes darting to the floor.
“No,” she said firmly. “No, you’re not. You’re human. And yeah, you get overwhelmed sometimes—like today—but that’s part of you too. Not all of you, just… one part. And it’s okay.”
You closed your eyes, letting yourself absorb her words, her steady presence. The buzzing of the studio, the squeak of sneakers, even Sophia’s silent observation in the background, all of it faded slightly.
“You’re really… nice,” you whispered, voice shaking a little. “Like, calm… when everything else is so loud in my head.”
Manon smiled, tugging you slightly closer. “Someone’s got to be,” she teased gently, though her eyes were soft. “And lucky for you… I don’t mind.”
For a few minutes, you just stood there, letting your racing thoughts slow, leaning into her grounding presence. It wasn’t perfect, you could still feel the frayed edges of your energy, but for the first time that day, the chaos inside you felt a little manageable.
Finally, she pulled back just enough to look at you, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “And hey… next time, maybe we skip the beat-snapping meltdown in front of everyone?”
You snorted, wiping your eyes. “No promises.”
Manon laughed, looping her arm through yours as you returned to the group. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
~
The Kats started whispering among themselves, huddled near the corner of the studio, trying to look casual while their eyes occasionally flicked toward you.
“Do you think it’s just… them being quirky?” Megan asked, voice low, as if saying it louder might make it vanish.
“No,” Sophia said slowly, brows furrowed, fingers drumming lightly against her notebook. “It’s consistent. The forgetfulness, the time issues, the way they hyperfocus one second and can’t sit still the next. It feels… like something more.”
Daniela tilted her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “ADHD?”
The word hung heavy in the air, bouncing off the walls like an unspoken truth that suddenly made sense.
Megan swallowed, looking between Sophia and Daniela. “Wait… you really think it could be that? That would explain… all the chaos.”
Lara, who had been silently observing, bit her lip. “It does make sense. The impulsive stuff, the distractions, the sudden bursts of energy. I always thought it was just… random.”
Yoonchae, the youngest of the group, piped up hesitantly, “So… it’s not them being careless or trying to be difficult?”
Sophia shook her head, exhaling slowly. “No. That’s not it at all. They care so much—too much sometimes—but their brain just… works differently. They’re not trying to frustrate us.”
Daniela crossed her arms, nodding. “I’ve seen it before, with a friend. This pattern—the highs, the lows, the constant whirlwind—it’s like… their mind is racing all the time. But it’s not lack of effort. They’re trying so hard.”
Megan smiled softly, a little rueful. “Wow… so all those times we thought they were just… unpredictable, it was actually something bigger?”
Sophia leaned back, eyes softening as she watched you from across the room, hair slightly mussed from rehearsal, humming a half-finished lyric to yourself while doodling in your notebook. “Yeah. And honestly… knowing this makes me appreciate them even more. They’re brilliant and creative, and now I think I get why it’s… a lot sometimes.”
Lara exhaled quietly. “It explains the… late arrivals, the random bursts of ideas, the sudden obsessions with weird things. It’s like, everything we’ve been seeing is part of who they are. Not just… chaos for the sake of chaos.”
Yoonchae tilted her head again, still processing. “So… what does this mean for us? How do we… support them?”
Manon, who had been quietly watching from a few steps away, finally spoke up, her voice calm but warm. “It means we don’t treat them like they’re doing something wrong. We roll with it. We help when they need it. And… we don’t make them feel bad for being themselves.”
The group exchanged looks, a mix of realization and relief. For the first time, the scattered patterns, impulsive moments, and chaotic bursts made sense, not as random quirks, but as pieces of a bigger picture.
Sophia’s lips curved into the tiniest smile. “Alright… then. Let’s do better. For them. We’re their team.”
Megan nodded, and even Daniela’s usual teasing expression softened. Yoonchae’s eyes sparkled with understanding. And across the room, you continued humming, blissfully unaware that the Kats had just discovered a whole new layer of you, your ADHD, and the brilliance and chaos that came with it.
~
It was 1 a.m. Everyone was supposed to be asleep. The dorm was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the floorboards.
And yet, there you were, in the living room, crouched over the coffee table with a notebook beside you, pencils scattered, and every piece of furniture in a different position than it had been five minutes ago.
“Why are you doing this now?” Manon mumbled, hair messy from sleep, rubbing her eyes as she padded out in oversized pajamas.
“The vibes were wrong,” you declared, gesturing dramatically at the misaligned couch and haphazardly angled chairs.
“…At one in the morning?”
“Yes.” You paused, squinting at a lamp. “And also the lighting. The corner by the window needed more… energy. Like, optimistic energy. Maybe if we moved the lamp—oh! And the rug! Definitely the rug!”
Manon blinked, then sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. She walked over, grabbed the couch with both hands, and shoved alongside you as you both wobbled it across the floor.
“You know,” she said, steadying the couch, “most people… just deal with bad vibes.”
You paused mid-push, wide-eyed. “Most people are boring.”
She chuckled, tugging the couch the last few inches into place. “I’ll give you that one.”
Finally, she flopped onto the crookedly placed sofa beside you, stretching her arms above her head. “The vibes are better this way,” she admitted, eyes half-closed.
You grinned, spinning in a circle, surveying the room like a proud general inspecting a battlefield. “Much better. Much more me. See? You get it, Manon. You always get it.”
She rolled her eyes, though her grin grew wider. “Yeah… I do. Somehow.”
You flopped down next to her, still buzzing with energy, tugging a stray cushion closer. “You’re like… the only person who can handle this level of chaos.”
Manon laughed softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Maybe I’m just crazy enough to match it.”
You nudged her shoulder playfully. “Exactly. Chaos buddies. I think we’re perfect for each other.”
She blinked, then smirked, her voice low and teasing. “You keep saying that, and I might start believing it.”
You beamed, turning your attention back to the now-perfectly angled living room. “Good. Because I definitely mean it. And maybe tomorrow we can—oh!—rearrange the kitchen too!”
Manon groaned, but there was no real irritation, just the kind of fond exasperation reserved for someone who’s completely, unapologetically themselves. “I’ll be ready… but maybe after some coffee.”
You laughed, leaning back on the sofa, already spinning ideas for how the next room needed more “optimistic energy,” while Manon just watched, amused and quietly enchanted by your unstoppable whirlwind of ADHD chaos.
~
Fanmeets were hard. The flashing lights, screaming fans, clattering of signs, and constant camera flashes, it was a sensory storm that made your chest feel tight, your skin prickly, like every nerve ending was on high alert. Your head spun as if someone had cranked the world’s volume to eleven.
During one especially loud event, you felt your focus splintering. You rubbed your hands together, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, trying to force your racing thoughts to calm. The crowd roared, and everything, every cheer, every flash, pushed you closer to the edge.
Manon noticed instantly. She didn’t question it or fuss, she just slid closer to you, tucking herself slightly in front so you had a small shield from the lights. Her voice was low and soft, barely above a whisper.
“Focus on me,” she said.
You blinked up at her, your thoughts scattered, but something about the calm steadiness of her gaze made a tiny crack in the chaos inside you.
Then she did something ridiculous, puffed out her cheeks, crossed her eyes, and made a noise somewhere between a honk and a squeak. You couldn’t help it; a small, shaky laugh escaped your lips.
“Hey, hey, there it is,” she murmured, smiling softly, her hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Breathe. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
She kept talking softly, in whispers that cut through the noise, reminding you of inside jokes, naming things she saw in the crowd, pretending a plushie someone had thrown was a secret agent, anything to pull you back into the moment. Slowly, the blaring lights and screaming fans faded into the background. You could feel your heartbeat slowing, your hands unclenching, the pressure in your chest lifting just a little.
By the time the fanmeet ended, your energy was frayed, but you weren’t completely undone.
Later, in the van back to the dorm, your head rested against the window, eyes half-closed, still trying to process everything. Manon slipped her hand into yours quietly. No words, just warmth and grounding.
You squeezed back, a small smile tugging at your lips. The exhaustion and overwhelm were still there, but now they were tempered by her presence. You didn’t need to explain the storm inside you; she just understood.
“I… thanks,” you whispered, almost too quiet to hear.
She leaned her head against the seat, brushing her fingers over yours. “Always. You don’t have to do this alone.”
For the first time that night, amidst the chaos, you felt calm enough to believe her. Maybe the world didn’t have to be overwhelming. Maybe, as long as she was there, you could ride out the storm together.
~
During a live interview, the lights were bright, cameras flashing, and the host smiled, clipboard in hand. “So, what can fans expect from your next album?”
Without thinking, you leaned forward, eyes wide, and blurted:
“We’re not ready. Our choreo is a disaster.”
The room froze. Megan’s hand went to her mouth. Lara’s eyes widened. Even Daniela looked momentarily horrified. The host blinked, awkwardly shuffling papers.
“Oh…” was all anyone could manage.
Then Manon burst into laughter, clutching your arm to keep you from adding anything else. “What they meant is—we’re working really hard and want it to be perfect,” she said, voice light, eyes sparkling, forcing a grin toward the host.
You blinked at her, sheepish. “Oh… yeah! That’s exactly what I meant…”
Manon nudged you gently. “Exactly. Perfectly chaotic perfection.”
The tension broke. The host chuckled, moving on to the next question, and the Kats exhaled collectively, though Sophia shot you a look that mixed amusement with mild exasperation.
Back at the dorm, the adrenaline of the interview still hummed in your veins. You flopped onto the couch, cheeks warm from embarrassment.
Manon leaned against you, draping an arm casually over your shoulders. “Never change,” she said, voice soft but teasing. “You’re too honest for this world… and honestly? It’s kind of refreshing.”
You snorted, burying your face in the crook of her neck. “I’m a walking disaster sometimes…”
“And I love it,” she whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “The world doesn’t deserve your honesty, but I do.”
You peeked up at her, eyes wide, heart hammering from a mix of nerves, exhaustion, and something else, warmth that spread from her hand in yours down to your toes. “You… really mean that?”
She grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief and fondness. “Absolutely. And for the record? The choreo isn’t a disaster—it’s chaotic brilliance. Just like you.”
You laughed, a little shaky, and leaned further into her warmth. Maybe the world wouldn’t always get you. Maybe some people would roll their eyes at your impulsive honesty or your scattered thoughts. But Manon… Manon got it. And right now, that was more than enough.
~
One night, you got stuck on a dance move, a particularly tricky spin that just wouldn’t land right. Hours passed as you drilled it over and over, arms aching, legs trembling, sweat soaking your clothes. The studio floor was littered with water bottles, towels, and your scattered notebook full of choreo notes and random doodles.
The others had given up hours ago, yawning and shuffling off to bed, leaving the space silent except for the hum of the air conditioner and the faint echo of your sneakers against polished wood.
But Manon stayed. She stretched on the sidelines, one leg propped against the barre, flipping her hair out of her eyes. Every so often she’d tilt her head, eyes scanning your movements.
“You know,” she said casually after a particularly messy spin, “if you lifted your arm a fraction earlier, you might land it smoother.”
You frowned, spinning again, hair plastered to your forehead. “I tried that. Doesn’t feel right.”
She smirked, shrugging. “I didn’t say it would feel right. Just… try it.”
Minutes blurred into hours. Your body ached, your brain felt like it was on overdrive, but your ADHD hyperfocus wouldn’t let you stop. Each repetition felt closer. Each attempt chipped away at the frustration.
At 4 a.m., muscles screaming and lungs burning, you finally nailed it. Perfect. Smooth. Controlled.
Your chest heaved, sweat dripping down your neck, and for the first time in hours, you let yourself grin, wide and triumphant. “See? I knew I could do it!”
Manon walked over, tossing you a towel with a teasing smirk. “I knew too. That’s why I stayed.”
You blinked at her, caught off guard by how steady she was, how calm in the chaos of your obsession. She wiped the sweat from your face with the towel, gentle but deliberate, fingers brushing your temple.
Something unspoken lingered in her gaze then, warm, steady, proud. Not pity. Not exasperation. Pride. Admiration.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but didn’t look away. “Thanks… for… staying,” you managed, voice small but sincere.
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You don’t need to thank me. I get it. I get you.”
For a few minutes, you just sat there, breathing heavily, towels in hand, letting the glow of accomplishment, and the quiet closeness between you, sink in. Somewhere between exhaustion and exhilaration, you realized that the chaos, the hyperfocus, the endless energy, it wasn’t something to hide. And maybe, just maybe, Manon didn’t want you to.
She nudged you gently with her shoulder, playful but intimate. “Ready to finally collapse into bed?”
You laughed, leaning against her, letting her warmth steady you. “Yeah… but only if you stay with me for five more minutes.”
Manon’s smirk softened into a real smile, the kind that made your heart thrum in a way the chaos of ADHD never could. “Five minutes,” she agreed.
And for that small, exhausted, perfect moment, it felt like the world, chaotic, noisy, unpredictable, was exactly where it should be.
~
That night in the dorm, everyone was scattered across the couch and floor, half-eaten snacks in hand. Lara was nursing a bowl of gummy bears, Megan had a protein bar smeared with chocolate on her fingers, and Yoonchae was meticulously organizing the cookie packets like a tiny, overly serious librarian.
You bounced your leg, fiddling obsessively with the wrapper of a granola bar you weren’t actually eating. “Okay,” you started, tone suddenly serious, drawing everyone’s attention. “So. You’ve all noticed I’m… you know. A lot. The chaos. The blurting. Forgetting stuff every five seconds. And I just… I should tell you.”
The room quieted. Even the hum of the fridge felt louder. All eyes were on you, waiting for the confession to land, maybe with tears, maybe with a dramatic story about how you’d struggled alone for years.
“I have ADHD,” you said, chest puffing slightly, eyes sparkling. “I was diagnosed a while ago.”
The silence was thick. Expectant. Waiting.
And then… your eyes flicked to the table. “…OH MY GOD, who put the cookie down without a napkin?! It’s gonna stick to the table, and then it’s like glued forever—”
“Y/N!” Sophia snapped, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.
You blinked, realizing your derailment, then clapped your hands together like you’d just remembered something extremely important. “Right. Sorry. Anyway—ADHD. That’s the thing.”
Megan burst out laughing, nearly spilling her chocolate bar. “Only you could drop a bomb like that and immediately derail yourself into a cookie crisis.”
Daniela snorted, shaking her head. “That’s literally the proof right there.”
Yoonchae, wide-eyed and carefully sliding the cookie onto a napkin, whispered, “Wait… so the chaos isn’t just… you?”
“Technically it is me,” you said, waving your hands dramatically, “but, like, with extra sprinkles. And glitter. And maybe a little confetti thrown in for effect.”
Manon, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her hair falling into her eyes, shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
Then, softer, leaning closer so only you could hear, she added: “But it makes sense. And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still our Y/N.”
Your chest swelled. The knot of anxiety you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying loosened. Somehow, hearing it from Manon made all the scattered chaos inside you feel… acknowledged. Accepted. Safe.
You grinned, unable to stop yourself. “See? Told you! Chaos, but lovable chaos.”
Sophia sighed, shaking her head but smiling. “I give up. You win, Y/N. ADHD or not, you’re impossible and… somehow, amazing.”
“Impossible?” you repeated, pretending to clutch your chest. “I prefer… extraordinary in motion.”
Daniela snorted again. “Sure. That works.”
Manon nudged your shoulder gently. “You really are extraordinary. And I love every unpredictable, messy, brilliant part of you.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you leaned back into her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her presence. The others may have laughed and teased, but in that small circle, amid the wrappers, cookies, and half-finished granola bars, you felt… understood. Seen. And for the first time that night, your whirlwind mind didn’t feel like a storm, it felt like home.
You smirked, bouncing your leg slightly. “Okay, but seriously… next time, napkins first. ADHD or not, cookies deserve respect.”
Manon laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Agreed. And I’ll always have your back… sprinkles and all.”
The group erupted into laughter again, and you realized something: maybe your chaos wasn’t just manageable, it was magnetic. And having someone like Manon by your side made it feel like the best kind of adventure.
~
During a live interview, the bright studio lights made everything glow a little too sharply. Cameras clicked and whirred, the host smiling brightly at all seven of you.
“So,” the interviewer began, leaning forward slightly, “what’s your biggest challenge as a group?”
You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even blink. “Waking up before noon. It’s basically murder.”
The room erupted. Megan snorted into her water bottle. Daniela doubled over, laughter spilling out of her like confetti. Yoonchae clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing outright. Lara shook her head, hiding a grin.
Even the interviewer blinked, trying to suppress a laugh. “I… see.”
Except Sophia. Sophia’s jaw was tight, lips pressed together, trying desperately to keep her leader face on. “Y/N! You can’t just say stuff like that!” she hissed under her breath, glancing at the camera, clearly aware the comment had just gone live.
You tilted your head innocently, a small grin tugging at your lips. “But it’s true though??”
Manon, sitting beside you, couldn’t help herself. She leaned closer, nudging your shoulder with a sly grin. “Honestly? I think you just spoke for all of us.”
You laughed, elbowing her lightly. “See? Even Manon gets it. Group consensus. This is democracy.”
Sophia groaned, rolling her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched as if she might actually be amused. “Democracy or not, you just broadcast our sleep issues to millions of people!”
“Millions of people who are now fully aware that Katseye are basically nocturnal creatures,” you said, waving your hands for emphasis.
The interviewer chuckled, shaking their head. “Well… honesty is refreshing.”
You grinned, bouncing slightly in your seat. “Exactly! Honest chaos. That’s us.”
Manon laughed, squeezing your hand under the table. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Sophia, exasperated but secretly smiling, muttered under her breath, “I swear, this ADHD is going to be the death of me… but maybe also our secret weapon.”
You tilted your head toward her, grinning mischievously. “You’ll thank me when fans think we’re relatable and hilarious.”
Manon leaned over, whispering with a wink, “And I’ll be here to keep the chaos charming.”
By the end of the interview, everyone was laughing, Sophia included, though she still shook her head in disbelief. And somewhere in the back of your hyperactive, ADHD mind, you filed away another success: chaos handled… perfectly.
~
Before rehearsal, you were on your knees by the couch, rifle-like digging through your oversized bag, tossing notebooks, water bottles, and random pens everywhere.
“Okay,” you muttered, voice tight with mock panic, “who stole my phone this time?!”
Manon looked up from where she was perched on the couch, casually scrolling through a playlist. Her eyebrow arched. “…It’s in your hand.”
You froze mid-dig, turning slowly. Your eyes widened. Yep. It was. The whole time. Clutched firmly in your palm, screen glowing softly.
“Ohhh…” you said, slowly lowering your hand as if revealing some crime scene evidence. “Right. Of course. Makes sense.”
Daniela, sitting cross-legged on the floor behind you, nearly choked on her water bottle, coughing as laughter ripped out of her. “I… I can’t… HOW—?”
Megan snorted, shaking her head. “Only you could spend five minutes accusing everyone of theft… and it’s literally been in your hand the whole time.”
You held up your phone dramatically. “It’s fine. I was just… testing everyone’s loyalty. Who’s really paying attention?”
Lara groaned, flopping onto the couch. “You’re unbelievable.”
Manon leaned over, plucking the phone from your hand and handing it back to you with a teasing smirk. “Next time, maybe just check your hand first?”
You tilted your head, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She rolled her eyes, tugging at your sleeve. “You’re lucky I find this chaotic brilliance… charming.”
You winked, shoving your bag closed before opening it again to “double-check” for other missing items. “Of course. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, right?”
Daniela groaned again, collapsing into laughter, while Manon just shook her head, smiling softly at your endless whirlwind energy.
~
At 2 a.m., the dorm was quiet. The only light came from the dim glow of the desk lamps, casting long shadows across the floor. And there you were, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room, surrounded by piles of delicate origami cranes. Paper scraps littered the floor like confetti, a few stuck to your hair from earlier attempts.
Megan leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, blinking at the scene. “Why…?”
You looked up, eyes wide and sparkling. “I wanted to make one. Then I thought… what if I make a thousand?”
Daniela’s jaw dropped. “A thousand cranes… at two in the morning?”
You nodded solemnly, holding up a slightly crooked purple crane for emphasis. “Yes. And then maybe five thousand. Or—wait!—what if we make a whole paper forest? With trees and… uh, animals too?”
Lara appeared from the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “You didn’t even finish the lyrics you started earlier.”
You waved a hand dismissively, holding up a perfectly folded crane. “Yeah, but look how pretty! Isn’t it amazing?”
Manon padded into the room, barefoot, hair messy, eyes amused. She crouched down beside you, picking up a stray crane and examining it like a museum curator. “You’re… incredible.”
“I KNOW, RIGHT?” You bounced on your knees, making a crane flap its wings experimentally. “I didn’t think folding paper could be this fun. And look! Colors! Patterns! We could make a whole… uh… rainbow forest!”
Megan groaned, flopping onto the couch. “I give up. I can’t even argue. This is… chaos meets beauty.”
Manon chuckled, brushing a stray piece of paper off your shoulder. “You know, it’s kind of mesmerizing. But maybe… we finish rehearsal first, and then the crane apocalypse?”
You tilted your head, considering, before shrugging. “Fine… but only if we have enough paper to survive the night.”
Daniela snorted, shaking her head as she went to fetch some tape to keep the cranes from falling over. “This is literally ADHD in motion.”
You grinned, grabbing another sheet of paper. “Exactly. But it’s fun. And that’s what counts.”
Manon nudged you gently, smiling. “It always counts when it’s you.”
You leaned back against her, crane in hand, and for a moment, surrounded by chaos, colors, and laughter, it felt like the perfect kind of chaos, messy, impulsive, endlessly creative, and somehow… completely yours.
~
The practice room was buzzing with energy, music pulsing through the speakers as everyone rehearsed choreography. Sophia’s sharp eyes tracked every movement.
“You missed the step again, Y/N,” she said gently but firmly, pausing the track.
Your brain went from zero to meltdown in 0.2 seconds. “OH MY GOD I’M A FAILURE!” you yelled, hands flying to your face, knees bouncing, eyes wide.
Sophia froze mid-breath. “That’s not what I—”
But before she could finish, Manon appeared like a guardian of chaos control. She grabbed her water bottle and flicked the cap at your head, which bounced harmlessly off your temple. “Dramatic much? Chill.”
You blinked at her, then cracked up laughing, the tension instantly dissolving. “Okay, okay, fine. Not a failure. Just… learning. Very intense learning!”
Daniela groaned from the corner. “That’s… literally textbook ADHD. Overreacting, then bouncing back instantly.”
Megan nodded, smirking. “You just have to admire the energy.”
You spun dramatically, tossing your hair back. “Exactly! High energy, maximal effort, totally unstoppable.”
Manon leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “And slightly terrifying in the best way.”
You grinned, ducking slightly as she tapped your shoulder playfully. “You think it’s terrifying, I think it’s awesome. Win-win.”
Sophia exhaled slowly, trying not to smile but failing as she restarted the track. “Alright… let’s try that step again.”
You took a deep breath, bouncing slightly in place, hyper-focus kicking in. “I GOT THIS! Watch and learn, team!”
Manon sat on the sidelines, cheering quietly, a mischievous grin on her face. “I believe in you, chaos queen.”
By the next run-through, you nailed the move perfectly, sweat dripping, heart racing, but with a huge, triumphant smile. Sophia raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Finally… okay, that was good.”
You threw your hands in the air dramatically. “See? Meltdown avoided, victory achieved, chaos tamed… temporarily.”
Manon rolled her eyes fondly, tugging you down into a side hug. “Temporary chaos, yes—but always lovable.”
You laughed, leaning into her, knowing that no matter how intense the highs or the lows got, she’d always be there to help steady the storm.
~
During a break in rehearsal, you flopped onto the couch next to Manon, bouncing your leg like a metronome. Your bag lay forgotten at your feet, a small notebook spilling scraps of paper everywhere.
“So, okay, listen—did you know that octopuses have three hearts?” you started, voice practically tripping over itself. “And two of them stop when they swim, and isn’t it wild because—wait, wait, hold on—they can taste with their arms too, so like if one arm touches something weird it knows? Isn’t that insane?!”
You leaned way too close, almost poking her in the shoulder with your notebook, eyes wide and sparkling from pure hyperfocus.
Manon didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, letting your words wash over her like a river of energy. A small, fond smile tugged at her lips. “You’re cute when your brain goes a hundred miles an hour.”
Your jaw dropped. For once, the ADHD in your head seemed to stall, a stunned silence filling the space between you.
From across the room, Megan, who had been sipping water, froze mid-sip. Her eyes widened, and she mouthed: “OH MY GOD.”
Daniela elbowed Lara, whispering, “Did she just—? Oh no, she did.”
You blinked at Manon, heart hammering. “C-cute? Like… actually cute? Not just… chaos cute?”
Manon leaned a little closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Actual cute. Adorable, even. And maybe a little irresistible when you’re bouncing off the walls with random octopus facts.”
You laughed nervously, hiding your face behind your hands, but Manon gently pulled them away, her fingers brushing yours. “Hey. Look at me,” she said softly, her grin infectious. “You don’t need to hyper-focus on being perfect. You’re perfect in the chaos. I promise.”
Your breath hitched a little, caught between embarrassment and delight. “I… I don’t know what to say…”
Manon smirked, leaning her forehead lightly against yours. “Then don’t say anything. Just stay you. That’s enough.”
From across the room, the other Kats exchanged knowing glances, a mix of amusement and exasperation. Yoonchae whispered to Megan, “This is the cutest disaster I’ve ever seen.”
You peeked through your fingers at Manon, feeling your heart hammer like a drum solo. “I… okay. Staying me sounds… good.”
She squeezed your hand gently, tilting her head so your foreheads touched. “Good. Because I like all of you. Every chaotic, hyperfocused, impulsive part of you.”
And in that tiny, suspended moment, surrounded by scattered papers, bouncing legs, and the faint hum of the rehearsal space, it felt like the chaos and the calm had finally found a perfect balance, right there between you and Manon.
~
Sophia clapped her hands, raising her voice over the music. “Okay, from the top. 5, 6, 7, 8—”
You were already halfway out of the moment, eyes darting around the room. “Wait, did anyone else notice the mirror looks like it’s slightly tilted? Like if you squint—”
Sophia froze, lips pressed into a line. “Focus.”
Lara leaned toward Manon, whispering, “Is Y/N even on the same planet as us right now?”
Manon smirked, elbows resting on her knees. “Nope. That’s our alien. Don’t worry, I’ve got the translator.”
By the end of the run-through, you’d forgotten half the moves, switched the arm sequence with a completely different formation, and somehow managed to trip over your own foot, without missing a beat in your mental commentary about the studio lights being “aggressively fluorescent.”
The next day, Sophia clapped her hands again. “Okay, from the top. 5, 6, 7, 8—”
This time, you were a completely different person. Laser-focused, your movements sharp and precise, every beat perfectly executed, your footfalls landing like clockwork.
By the final chorus, you hit the extra spins flawlessly, finishing with a crisp pose that made even Sophia blink.
Megan, still catching her breath from the astonishment, muttered, “Wait… you can do that?”
You shrugged casually, sipping water like it was no big deal. “What, dance? Yeah. Totally normal.”
Daniela grinned at Sophia, whispering, “This feels like cheating. It’s like we got the ‘serious DLC’ version of Y/N.”
Manon leaned closer, a teasing glint in her eye. “Yeah… see? I told you they could do it. You just need the… uh… magic focus potion.”
You nudged her shoulder with a grin. “Potion? More like, brain batteries fully charged.”
Lara shook her head in awe. “I swear… it’s like two completely different people. The chaos version and the ‘wow, that’s terrifyingly skilled’ version.”
Manon leaned back, smirking proudly. “Both versions are amazing. But I kind of like that I get to see both. Chaos and brilliance, side by side.”
You blinked at her, heart doing a little flip, before bouncing slightly on your toes. “Well, brace yourselves. Who knows which version you’ll get tomorrow?”
Sophia groaned, but the corners of her lips twitched. “I swear, this ADHD is going to be both my nightmare and my favorite part of being a leader.”
Manon whispered softly, just for you to hear, “Don’t worry… I’ll always be your anchor, no matter which Y/N shows up.”
You smiled, leaning just a little closer to her, already imagining tomorrow’s chaos, or brilliance, or maybe a little of both.
~
Manager: “We need to finalize outfits for the showcase.”
Before anyone could continue, you bolted upright, eyes wide and sparkling. “Oh my GOD, do you think penguins ever get cold?? Like, they live in snow but they’re not wearing coats—”
Sophia groaned, pressing her face into her hands. “I… can’t even…”
Manon bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Babe… maybe focus on outfits first, penguins later?”
You waved a hand dramatically. “But it’s important! Penguins are iconic! They might inspire a tuxedo theme!”
Daniela snorted, muttering to Megan, “I swear… this is why we can’t have normal conversations.”
You grabbed a marker and started sketching vaguely penguin-like shapes on the outfit board, totally convinced this was genius design input.
By the end of the discussion, the manager looked exhausted, Sophia was rubbing her temples, but Manon was perched on the edge of the table, laughing softly, a hand on your shoulder. “It’s… chaotic brilliance. I love it.”
The next day, same scenario:
Manager: “We need to finalize outfits for the showcase.”
You sat upright, notebook open, pen ready, giving every bit of your attention to the discussion. “I think we should go with a darker palette for cohesion. Maybe something sleek to match the choreo intensity. We could also add subtle accents that highlight the stage lighting during spins and floor patterns.”
The room fell silent. Your suggestions were clear, confident, and impressively detailed.
Lara tilted her head, eyes wide. “…Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?”
You blinked innocently, putting down your pen. “Me? I’m still me… just, uh, optimized for rehearsal. Fully charged brain batteries.”
Manon leaned back in her chair, smirking proudly. “Optimized chaos. I approve.”
Daniela whispered to Megan, “It’s like we unlocked a hidden DLC: Y/N Focus Mode.”
You shrugged casually, sipping water. “Just trying to help. Outfits matter, okay?”
Sophia, suppressing a small smile, muttered under her breath, “I can’t believe this is the same person who once tried to redesign our outfits based on penguins.”
Manon leaned over and whispered in your ear, grinning, “Both versions are amazing. Chaos or focus, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
You glanced at her, grinning back. “Good. Because who knows which Y/N will show up tomorrow?”
~
It was game night, and the Kats were in the living room, sprawled across couches and floor cushions. The charades cards sat in the middle of the coffee table.
It was your turn. You picked a card, glanced at it, and immediately forgot the rules.
“Okay, so this one time, I fell asleep on the bus and—” you began, waving your hands dramatically.
Daniela groaned, facepalming. “That’s not how you play!!”
Megan shrugged, grinning. “It’s how they play.”
Manon was curled up on the couch hugging a pillow, laughing so hard she nearly fell over. “Oh my god, you absolute disaster, just tell your story later!”
By the time you were halfway through recounting how a stranger had spilled coffee on your book bag, Sophia sighed and muttered, “We’re doomed.”
Everyone was doubled over laughing, but somehow, chaos aside, the room was filled with warmth, and Manon’s laughter was the loudest, grounding you in a way that only she could.
A few days later, same setup. The Kats were back in the living room, playing charades again.
It was your turn. You picked a card, and this time… something had shifted.
You immediately leapt into action, moving with precision and energy, perfectly embodying the word. Your gestures were clear, exaggerated, and hilarious, but somehow perfect.
The team guessed instantly. “Oh! Oh! That’s it!” Megan shouted, practically bouncing in excitement.
Sophia blinked at you, impressed. “…We might actually win this time.”
Manon, leaning back on the couch with her arms crossed, smirked teasingly. “Medicated you is kind of scary. Efficient. But scary.”
You grinned, arms crossed dramatically, voice full of mock menace. “Fear me.”
Daniela laughed, shaking her head. “This is… the same person who can’t remember their own phone half the time.”
Manon nudged you with her shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, but I like both versions. Chaos or precision… both adorable in their own way.”
You smirked back at her, leaning just a bit closer. “Good. Because who knows which aY/N shows up next game night?”
Manon chuckled, reaching for your hand. “I’ll take either… just keep me in the loop.”
~
3 A.M. The dorm was quiet. The moonlight slanted through the blinds, painting silver stripes across the floor. Everyone was asleep… everyone except you.
Suddenly, the low, buzzing sound of clippers echoed through the hallway.
Megan bolted upright, hair sticking to her face from sleep, and stumbled into the corridor. “WHAT is happening—”
She froze mid-step, jaw dropping at the bathroom door. There you were, standing in front of the mirror, clippers in one hand, half your hair shaved off.
“My hair was itchy. Problem solved,” you said cheerfully, running your hand over the uneven patch.
Lara appeared from the other side of the dorm, hands flailing. “That’s not problem solved, that’s problem CREATED!”
Sophia stormed into the hallway, trying to suppress a mix of outrage and disbelief. “Do you EVER think things through!?”
You shrugged, completely unapologetic. “…no?”
Manon, rubbing her eyes, leaned lazily against the doorway, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “…you actually look kinda hot like that though.”
You froze for half a second, eyes wide. “Wait… really?”
She nodded, tilting her head. “Yeah. Rogue energy. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Perfect for you.”
You blinked, running a hand over your newly exposed scalp. “I… I guess chaos can be fashionable?”
Megan groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’m going to need therapy after this.”
Daniela peeked from the hallway, holding a pillow like a shield. “I… I don’t even… How do you even THINK of this?”
You grinned, tossing the clippers onto the counter. “Think? I… didn’t. That’s the point!”
Manon padded over and gently tugged you closer. “Honestly? I love that you don’t overthink. That’s part of your charm.”
You leaned into her, feeling the absurdity of the moment dissolve into warmth. “Well… if chaos is my brand, I’m going all in.”
Sophia muttered under her breath, trying to regain composure. “I… I swear… this ADHD… it’s going to give me a heart attack.”
You just shrugged, grinning at your reflection, half-shaved hair and all, feeling completely, unapologetically yourself, Manon by your side, laughing softly at the madness you’d just created.
~
The group was huddled around the conference table, laptops open, notes scattered. Management had stressed one thing: “Just order one pizza. Nothing crazy.”
You nodded… kind of.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. You bolted up, eyes wide with excitement. “Delivery!”
When the Kats saw what you’d brought, their jaws collectively hit the floor. Nine pizzas, cheese, pepperoni, veggie, barbecue chicken, plus garlic bread, buffalo wings, and a massive chocolate cheesecake. Boxes were stacked like a small fortress on the table.
Daniela threw her hands up in disbelief. “WHY?!”
You grinned sheepishly, waving a hand. “Because… I couldn’t choose. There were too many good options! Compromise is hard!”
Megan stared, mouth open. “We were told… one pizza.”
You shrugged, opening a slice of pepperoni and taking a dramatic bite. “Yes, one pizza would’ve been tragic. Imagine the disappointment.”
Manon, already grabbing a slice of garlic bread, leaned against the table, smirking. “Honestly? Iconic. Only you could turn a simple meeting into a full-on feast.”
Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, “I… I swear… this ADHD is both a blessing and a curse.”
You spun around in your chair, holding up a slice of cheesecake like a trophy. “Exactly! See? I bring balance. Chaos and dessert.”
Lara groaned, but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”
Manon slid the cheesecake toward you. “Nope. Totally manageable. And extremely enjoyable.”
You laughed, taking a bite and gesturing dramatically. “Life’s short. Eat the pizza… and the wings… and the cheesecake!”
The Kats exchanged looks, part exasperated, part amused. Somehow, you had once again turned a simple instruction into a full-blown adventure, and Manon, as always, was right there, stealing bites and laughing along with you.
~
The stage lights blazed, the crowd roaring as the music hit its peak. You were moving with the group, choreography memorized, or so everyone thought.
Halfway through the chorus, a sudden idea sparked in your brain. Without thinking, you veered off the set formation, spinning into a completely new move. A flick of your wrist, a hop, a dramatic pose, something no one had rehearsed.
Sophia’s eyes went wide from the corner of the stage. “That was NOT in the choreo!” she shouted, trying to stay on rhythm herself.
The audience erupted, cheering louder than ever. Phones were raised, lights flashing. The energy was insane.
Backstage, Lara’s heart was pounding as she watched the monitors. When the performance ended, she practically shoved you. “You gave me a heart attack!”
You grinned, completely unbothered. “But like… did you die?”
Manon, leaning against the side of the stage with arms crossed, shook her head, laughing. “They’re gonna kill you one day, I swear.”
You jogged over to her between takes, still buzzing with adrenaline. “But… it worked! The crowd loved it!”
She smirked, tugging you down slightly to meet her gaze. “Yeah, it worked. And it’s insane. But also… you’re insane. And I kind of love it.”
You blinked, cheeks warming. “You… love it?”
Manon shrugged playfully, smirking. “Of course. Who else could pull off chaos and brilliance at the same time? Only you.”
Sophia came over, trying to hide her exasperation behind a smile. “Next time… at least tell me before you turn our choreography into a free-for-all.”
You laughed, shrugging. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Manon leaned closer, whispering just for you: “I’ll always follow your chaos. Just… maybe not in heels next time, yeah?”
You grinned, taking her hand. “Deal. But chaos is kind of my specialty.”
The Kats rolled their eyes, shaking their heads, but even they couldn’t deny the crowd had gone wild, and somehow, the show had just become unforgettable.
~
The group had agreed: you’d run out and grab snacks for rehearsal. Simple task. Easy.
Ten minutes later, the dorm was silent. You were… nowhere.
Thirty minutes passed. The door swung open, and you burst in like a whirlwind.
In your arms: a goldfish in a tiny plastic bag, a neon pink beanbag under one arm, and a bubble machine clutched to your chest.
Sophia’s hands flew to her temples. “WE CAME HERE FOR BANANAS.”
You blinked innocently, holding up the goldfish. “Yeah, but… look at him!”
Megan tilted her head. “Uh… who approved this?”
Daniela pinched her nose, half laughing, half groaning. “I can’t. I just… I can’t even.”
Manon, crouching down immediately, grinned and leaned toward the goldfish bag. “Bob is mine now.” She waved her hand like she was making a formal claim. “Bob the Goldfish. Officially adopted.”
You pointed at the neon pink beanbag with a flourish. “And this! Perfect for floor stretches during rehearsal. Totally functional.”
Lara gave a long-suffering sigh. “You literally went full ADHD instead of grabbing snacks.”
You shrugged, setting down your treasures and plopping onto the beanbag dramatically. “Multitasking! Entertainment! Comfort! All in one shopping trip!”
Sophia groaned, muttering, “This is why I’ll never take a simple errand for granted again.”
Manon tossed you a granola bar with a grin. “You’re impossible. But also… kind of brilliant. I mean, who else can bring a goldfish, a beanbag, and a bubble machine back from the store without even blinking?”
You grinned, opening the bubble machine and watching iridescent bubbles drift lazily around the room. “Exactly. Chaos is art.”
Daniela groaned again. “I think I might die laughing.”
Megan laughed, tugging a bubble off her hair. “Well… at least the goldfish is cute.”
You leaned back on the neon beanbag, blowing bubbles at Manon, who ducked and laughed. “See? Totally worth it.”
She reached out and caught a bubble with one finger, smiling at you. “Absolutely. Only you could turn a snack run into… whatever this is.”
You grinned, tossing a handful of bubbles toward her. “It’s called ADHD brilliance. You’re welcome.”
~
It had been a long day, lights, noise, choreography, and too many instructions at once. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts spinning in a thousand directions.
Without thinking, you slipped out of the dorm, leaving your phone behind (again) and wandering into the quiet city streets. Streetlights reflected off the puddles from an earlier rain, casting tiny glimmers on the sidewalk.
Meanwhile, back at the dorm, the group realized you were missing.
“Where is Y/N?!” Sophia demanded, pacing.
“I… I don’t know!” Lara shouted. “They just… vanished.”
Daniela groaned. “Vanished is their specialty.”
Megan grabbed her jacket. “We have to find them. They can’t just—”
Manon, though worried, rolled her eyes with a faint smile. “Of course they did. Classic ADHD. But… I know where to look.”
She found you in a small park a few blocks away, sitting cross-legged on a bench, an ice cream cone in hand. You were staring up at the stars, a soft, awed expression on your face.
Manon crouched beside you, hands on her knees. “Do you know how worried everyone is?!”
You looked down, genuinely sheepish, swirling the ice cream with a finger. “…The stars were really pretty, so I thought I’d… follow them.”
Manon sighed, sitting beside you. She gently reached for the cone and took a careful lick. “…You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You blinked, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Cute… yes. Lucky… maybe. ADHD… definitely.”
Manon leaned back, glancing up at the sky. “You’re unbelievable. And infuriating. And… somehow I can’t stop laughing at you.”
You giggled, shoving your hands into your lap. “I just… needed a walk. And ice cream. And maybe… some perspective.”
Manon nudged your shoulder lightly. “Perspective is great. But maybe next time, tell someone before you vanish across the city?”
You leaned against her shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She shook her head, smiling, letting you rest there. “Only you could turn a panic-worthy disappearance into… this. And somehow, I’m glad I found you.”
You grinned, eyes still on the stars. “Me too. Especially with you here.”
Manon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Okay… but seriously. Let’s walk back before everyone has a full-blown meltdown.”
You groaned playfully, still clutching the half-melted ice cream. “Fine… but the stars first.”
She laughed, standing and holding your hand. “Of course. Always the stars first.”
~
You woke up that morning with a fiery conviction. Today was the day you would become the next great painter. You didn’t know exactly what that meant, but the inspiration was real, and it could not wait.
By mid-morning, the dorm had transformed into what looked like a miniature art studio gone rogue. Canvases leaned against every wall, splatters of acrylic paint streaked the floor, and glitter clung to absolutely everything, including you.
Lara stumbled into the room, eyes widening. “We left you alone for THREE HOURS.”
You turned toward her, face smeared with green and purple paint, a wide, proud grin plastered across your paint-smeared cheeks. You held up a half-finished abstract canvas, brimming with chaotic splashes of color. “Look, it’s us! All of us!”
Sophia stepped in, raising an eyebrow. “That looks like… chaos.”
You flung your arms out dramatically, paint dripping from your sleeves. “EXACTLY. Chaos is art! Chaos is life! Chaos… is beautiful!”
Manon, entering behind Sophia, couldn’t help but smile softly. She reached up and carefully brushed a streak of blue paint out of your hair. “It’s chaos, but it’s yours.”
You blinked at her, eyes sparkling. “Mine… really?”
She nodded, leaning down to glance at the canvas. “Yeah. And it’s… kind of perfect. Just like you.”
Daniela peeked around a corner, holding a paper towel like a shield. “How… how do you even…? I mean, glitter everywhere!”
Megan laughed, picking up a paintbrush off the floor and shaking her head. “This is classic ADHD. Total whirlwind. Somehow brilliant. And terrifying.”
You waved your paintbrush like a sword. “Exactly! And tomorrow, maybe we try sculpting with spaghetti. Or… we could make a mural in the living room!”
Manon groaned playfully, tugging you gently toward the couch. “Let’s maybe not destroy the dorm today… but I’ll sit here and watch all your chaos unfold. Front-row seat.”
You flopped next to her, still dripping in paint, and smiled up at the ceiling. “Best muse ever.”
Manon wrapped an arm around you, leaning her head against yours. “I’ll take that title. But next time… maybe warn me before you declare world domination through art.”
You laughed, tossing a dab of purple paint toward her (which she dodged expertly). “Nope. That’s part of the fun.”
She shook her head, chuckling, and kissed the top of your paint-covered head. “Chaos, creativity, and you. Honestly… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
~
It started like any other chaotic thought that hit you out of nowhere: I need to learn guitar. Now.
By the next morning, the dorm was buzzing with your obsession. You had somehow acquired a bright pink kid’s guitar from a nearby toy store, insisting it was “aesthetic and motivational.”
For three days straight, the dorm walls echoed with plucked strings, missed chords, and your endless commentary.
Daniela leaned over the couch one night, exasperated. “You don’t even own a guitar—”
You held up your neon treasure proudly, the strings somehow gleaming under the dorm lights. “I do now.”
Megan peeked from the kitchen, rubbing her temples. “They’re going to regret leaving you alone for five minutes…”
By 2AM, everyone had long gone to bed, exhausted from your relentless energy. But not Manon. She quietly slipped out of her room, sliding onto the floor beside you. She took the guitar from your hands and tuned it with gentle precision, humming to herself as she worked.
“Okay,” she said softly, brushing a strand of your hair back from your face, “show me what you’ve got.”
You grinned, plopping down next to her. Fingers fumbling over the strings, you strummed a clumsy chord. The sound was… questionable, but your eyes sparkled with determination.
Manon laughed quietly, leaning in closer. “Not bad… for a beginner.”
You tilted your head, puffing your cheeks in mock indignation. “Beginner? I’m basically a prodigy. Watch, tomorrow I’ll be shredding like a rock star.”
She shook her head, smiling, and nudged your shoulder gently. “You’re impossible. But I love this version of you. The one who wakes up at 2AM to learn guitar, surrounded by chaos and glitter and… whatever this is.”
You strummed again, a little more confidently this time, and glanced at her. “You’ll be my first audience, always?”
Manon’s grin softened, her eyes warm. “Always. Even when the rest of the dorm is begging for mercy.”
You laughed, plucking a few more uneven chords, while Manon hummed along quietly, keeping pace. Somewhere between the clumsy strumming and the 2AM quiet, it felt… perfect.
~
It started innocently enough. You picked up a fantasy novel while waiting for rehearsal and… something clicked. Suddenly, every waking thought, sentence, and conversation had to be about faeries, dragons, and magical kingdoms.
By the next day, rehearsal breaks had turned into full-blown lectures. You paced the studio, waving your arms dramatically.
“And then, obviously, if the faerie courts are divided by seasons, you must know that Winter faeries are allergic to sunlight—”
Megan flopped onto a bench, burying her face in her hands. “Please… I just wanted to stretch my legs.”
You whirled around, eyes sparkling. “But if I had a dragon, his name would be Toast! Because think about it: every time he sneezes fire, it smells like breakfast. Brilliant, right?”
Manon, sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully watching you, snorted. “Of course you’d name a dragon after breakfast.” She smirked, reaching out to tousle your hair. “Of course.”
Daniela groaned, waving her arms. “I can’t. I can’t even. I just—Why am I agreeing to this? I’m not even listening.”
You leaned closer to Manon, whispering conspiratorially: “I could write an entire epic about Toast and the faerie queen. You’d be my muse.”
Manon raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. “You? Writing an epic? I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.”
“Both!” you declared. “Definitely both. And the best part—Toast and I could fight evil together. Or… just snack. Mostly snack.”
Sophia peeked in from the edge of the studio, arms crossed. “Are we ever going to dance again, or are we starting a novel-writing club now?”
You shrugged, bouncing on your toes. “We can do both! Multitasking! Also, have I told you about faerie politics yet?”
Manon chuckled, leaning against the wall, letting you ramble. “I love this. I love you. Even if half the dorm wants to throw you out for it.”
You grinned, eyes sparkling as you launched into another tangent about faerie hierarchies, Toast the dragon, and the perfect magical breakfast. She just shook her head, smiling, completely charmed, and maybe a little swept up in your chaotic enthusiasm.
~
It was late afternoon, and the studio air was thick with sweat, music, and exhaustion. Every Kats member moved sluggishly through the choreography, faces streaked with frustration and fatigue.
Except you.
You were bouncing from one corner of the room to another, arms flailing, knees pumping, energy practically radiating off you. Suddenly, mid-song, you dropped into an impromptu breakdancing spin, narrowly missing the speaker stack.
Sophia screeched, throwing her hands in the air. “FOCUS, Y/N!”
You popped up, hair flying, spinning on your heel like a tornado. “I AM focusing! …just not on what you want.”
Daniela groaned, wiping sweat from her forehead. “How is this even humanly possible?”
Megan just shook her head, leaning against the mirrored wall. “I think I’ve reached my maximum capacity for chaos today. And we still have three more runs.”
Meanwhile, Manon had collapsed on the floor, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Let them be,” she said between giggles. “At least they’re entertaining us. This is… art. Pure chaos art.”
You jumped up, striking a ridiculous pose at the center of the room. “See! Inspiration! Energy! Passion!”
Lara muttered, covering her face with her hands. “We’re going to need therapy after this.”
You skidded across the floor in a perfect slide, arms outstretched, before springing up again. “No, no! This is performance enhancement! ADHD magic!”
Manon shook her head, still laughing, and reached for your hand. “Okay… I’m officially adopting this chaos as my favorite form of cardio. You’re unbelievable.”
You grinned, grabbing her hand, spinning her around lightly. “You get it, right? You’re my chaos twin!”
She laughed, letting herself get swept up for a moment in the whirlwind. “Yeah… yeah, I get it. But maybe next time, teach me some of these moves before the rest of the team has heart attacks.”
You just winked, bouncing back into the center of the floor. “Nope. Chaos is better spontaneous.”
Sophia threw her hands in the air again, muttering, “I’m too old for this.”
But Manon’s laughter rang louder than any groan in the room, and somehow, somehow, it made the ADHD-fueled energy feel like pure, infectious joy.
~
For the past week, you had been living and breathing one thing: perfecting a single dance move. Every morning started with warm-ups, stretches, and at least thirty “rehearsals” of that one spin. You watched tutorials, analyzed footage, and even made a diagram on the whiteboard.
The Kats tried to keep up with you, but slowly realized there was no catching the train, you were the train, and it was moving at full speed.
Then, one afternoon, something snapped.
You flopped onto the couch, leaving the whiteboard half-covered in diagrams, and pulled a ball of yarn out of nowhere. Fingers flying, you began crocheting with fervor, muttering to yourself about “perfect tension” and “pattern integrity.”
Yoonchae peeked over your shoulder, eyebrows raised. “…What happened to your skateboard era?”
You barely looked up, yarn flying between your hands. “Old news. Look, I’m making socks now. Everyone gets a pair.”
Daniela blinked. “Wait… socks? Like… actual socks?”
“Exactly! Functional, cozy, fashionable. Plus, crochet is… therapeutic.” You gestured wildly, nearly poking the cat that had wandered in for moral support.
Manon, curled up beside you with her chin on her knees, watched with amused fondness. “You change hobbies like outfits,” she said softly.
You grinned without pausing, yarn twisting around your fingers. “Of course! Life’s too short to stick with one thing. Yesterday, skateboards. Today… socks. Tomorrow? Who knows! Maybe I’ll learn origami dragons or build a miniature castle.”
Sophia sighed, shaking her head while trying not to laugh. “And somehow… I can’t stay annoyed at them.”
Manon nudged you gently, smiling. “That’s because it’s entertaining chaos. And honestly? I kinda love watching you dive headfirst into everything, even if it only lasts a week.”
You glanced at her, your smile softening. “You’ll get a pair of socks first, by the way. Custom fit.”
She rolled her eyes with a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “I’ll cherish them forever. Or at least until you decide to crochet teapots instead.”
You chuckled, already imagining your next hyperfixation. And true to ADHD form, it was only a matter of time before the world shifted again, but for now, Manon stayed beside you, content to watch the whirlwind unfold.
You had decided that today was the perfect day to combine everything: cooking, songwriting, texting, and filming content. The problem? Your brain thought four things at once was a reasonable strategy.
The noodles boiled cheerfully, a gentle hiss filling the kitchen. You were dancing slightly to a tune in your head, phone balanced precariously on the counter, and your other hand scribbling lyrics on a sticky note.
“Okay, Megan, listen—wait no, I need to—oh! This chord would go perfectly here!” You hummed, flailing slightly as you tried to stir the noodles, tap out a beat, and text at the same time.
In classic ADHD fashion, your multi-tasking skills betrayed you spectacularly. The pot boiled over. Noodles flopped onto the stove, the counter, the floor… and the phone? Right into the steaming, salty, noodle soup. Face-first.
You froze, staring at the disaster, then muttered, “It was… ambitious.”
Lara appeared at the door, arms crossed. “You’re banned from the kitchen. Effective immediately.”
“But the song was good!!” you protested, waving a soggy sticky note for dramatic effect.
Manon, who had silently appeared behind you, was already fishing your phone out with a pair of tongs, laughing so hard she had to lean against the fridge for support. “Only you could drown your lyrics in ramen,” she said, smirking. “Honestly… this is peak Y/N energy.”
You sighed, dramatically wiping your hands on a dishtowel that was already slightly noodle-stained. “I just wanted to be productive! Multitask! Create!”
She shook her head, holding the steaming, noodle-covered phone at arm’s length. “Somehow, you turned dinner into… performance art. And now our lyrics are wet. But hey, at least it was entertaining?”
You grinned sheepishly. “Entertainment counts as progress, right?”
Manon laughed, sliding her arm around your shoulders. “Only with you does disaster look this adorable. Now, maybe… step away from the stove before we need a mop AND an exorcist.”
You saluted her with a crooked, noodle-strewn hand. “Yes, commander. But next time… I’ll conquer the kitchen. Probably.”
She shook her head, smiling fondly. “Probably.”
~
Rehearsal was already intense. Beats thumped through the studio, mirrors reflecting every move, and the Kats were all trying to perfect their timing. You, of course, had decided today was the day to supercharge your contribution.
Mic in one hand, water bottle in the other, and a notebook stuffed with your latest lyric ideas clutched under your arm, you gestured wildly while explaining a new concept to the group.
“And if we—oh! Wait, no, what if the chorus hits here and we do—” You spun in a circle for emphasis.
Cue disaster. The mic smacked Megan squarely on the forehead. The notebook tumbled from your arm, pages fanning across the floor. The water bottle tipped over, soaking a small section of the studio floor.
For a split second, the room was silent.
Then Sophia exhaled deeply, hands on her hips. “…Every single time.” Her eyes were half-exasperated, half-amused.
Megan rubbed her head, blinking. “Do you… do you practice… avoiding contact at all?”
You froze, blinking, cheeks turning pink. “I… I meant… it was… demonstration?”
Manon crouched beside you, picking up the notebook and carefully drying the floor with a towel, all while stifling a laugh. “You really need three extra arms, don’t you?” she teased. Her fingers briefly brushed yours as she handed the notebook back, and you caught the small spark of amusement in her gaze.
“I’d settle for just one extra brain,” you muttered, already trying to reorganize the lyric pages into some semblance of order.
“Careful with that mic,” Sophia warned, pointing at your hand. “Or you’ll hit someone again.”
You grinned sheepishly, balancing the items like a tightrope act. “No promises. It’s part of my charm.”
Manon laughed, leaning against your shoulder for support. “Oh, it’s definitely part of your charm. Just… maybe not the part that flattens people.”
You gave her a playful shove, nearly toppling the water bottle again. “Worth it!”
And somehow, amidst the chaos, everyone else just shook their heads, but Manon’s laughter stayed, tethering you to the moment, amused and affectionate, making the mess somehow feel a little lighter.
~
The mission seemed simple enough: pick up groceries for the dorm. Yoonchae and you were sent out, a straightforward, no-frills errand.
Ten minutes in, your brain had other plans.
By the time you returned, Yoonchae was carrying the single bag of vegetables she’d managed to salvage from your chaos. You, on the other hand, were juggling a haphazard collection of items: three packs of cookies stacked precariously in one arm, glitter glue clutched in the other, and a plush dragon tucked under your chin like it was a newborn.
Yoonchae’s eyes went wide. “…I told them to keep you away from the candy aisle…”
You blinked innocently, adjusting the dragon so it didn’t topple. “I… thought the cookies were essential. For morale.”
Daniela peeked out the dorm kitchen door, eyebrows raised. “Morale, huh?”
You nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. And glitter glue. You never know when you’ll need to craft morale into existence!”
Manon, who had been sitting on the couch and silently observing your return, immediately grabbed the plush dragon and hugged it to her chest. “Okay, but this was a good purchase.” Her eyes twinkled. “I don’t even care about the groceries. This dragon has character.”
You grinned, dropping the cookie packs on the table with a flourish. “Exactly! I picked it out for you. You and the dragon are soulmates, obviously.”
Lara, trying not to laugh, muttered, “Soulmates with a stuffed animal while the fridge is empty. Classic Y/N.”
Megan shook her head, picking up a pack of cookies. “Well… at least these will get eaten.”
You bounced in place. “See? Productive chaos. You don’t understand, it’s efficient!”
Yoonchae pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, “Efficient destruction, maybe.”
Manon, still cuddling the dragon, leaned over and whispered, “I think I love your chaos more than actual groceries.”
You beamed. “Good. Because it’s… all me.”
And somehow, amidst the glitter, cookies, and rogue plushie, the dorm felt a little brighter, a little more alive, exactly how you always managed to make it, chaotic, unpredictable, but somehow perfect.
~
The studio was sticky with sweat, the air thick from the heat of lights and relentless practice. The Kats were dragging, arms heavy, feet sore, and tempers a little frayed after the tenth run-through of the chorus.
You, of course, were bouncing on the balls of your feet, mic in one hand, water bottle in the other, notebook tucked under your arm. “Come on, guys! We got this! Remember, feet sharp, arms sharper! And don’t forget to smile, because—oh!—the fans are watching!”
Daniela groaned dramatically, leaning against the barre. “We’re gonna die before we even hit the bridge.”
You twirled, almost knocking over a speaker, grinning. “Not if we make it fun! Look, I invented a new move: the… spin-ninja-slide!” You executed a clumsy-but-enthusiastic twirl, nearly colliding with Megan, who just laughed and ducked.
Yoonchae leaned against the wall, exasperated but impressed. “How are you not tired??”
“Energy is contagious, my dear,” you said, bouncing on the spot like a human pogo stick. “See? You’re smiling already. I can feel it in your eyes—okay, maybe not your eyes, they’re too tired, but… you get the idea.”
Manon, leaning against the mirrored wall, couldn’t help but smile. She loved how you seemed to radiate chaos and joy in equal measure. The way your energy lifted everyone, even when exhaustion threatened to take over, was… captivating. She caught your eye during a particularly wild jump, and you winked mid-spin, oblivious to the fact that your water bottle was now rolling across the floor.
She shook her head, quietly amused, and murmured to herself, “Only you could make exhaustion look like a party.”
You paused briefly to grab the rogue bottle, flashing a thumbs-up at her. “See, Manon? Multitasking and morale boosting. It’s an art form!”
She leaned closer, nudging your shoulder gently. “Art form or chaos? Honestly, it’s both. And somehow… I like it.”
You grinned, bouncing in place again. “I knew you would. Chaos is universal, Manon. You just get it.”
And for a moment, amidst the sweat, music, and scattered equipment, her heart quietly agreed.
~
The rehearsal room had gone quiet. Management’s critique had been harsh, every note you’d messed up, every off-timing step, every little hesitation was listed meticulously. And for someone with ADHD? The sting was magnified.
Your chest tightened, your hands shook, and words started spilling out faster than you could stop them.
“I’m trying! I am trying!” You snapped, voice cracking. “I don’t know how to make it perfect every single time! Why does it feel like nothing I do is ever enough?!”
Sophia’s eyes widened, stepping carefully between you and the management team. “Y/N… breathe. It’s okay.”
But you weren’t breathing. You were shaking, blinking rapidly as frustration pooled into tears. “I just… I care too much! I can’t turn it off! And I keep messing up and—ugh!” You flailed dramatically, knocking over a water bottle.
Lara, sitting cross-legged on the floor, immediately moved closer. “Hey, hey, it’s not all on you. You’ve been putting in so much work, don’t let them make you feel less than brilliant.”
Yoonchae quietly tried to pick up the fallen water bottle. Daniela and Megan shared a glance, torn between calming you and helping Sophia navigate the tense standoff with management.
Manon, however, stayed right by your side, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Hey,” she murmured softly, “look at me. You’re still amazing, okay? One critique doesn’t erase all the incredible stuff you do.”
Your voice wavered. “I just… I feel like I’m a problem. Like I slow everyone down.”
“Y/N,” Sophia said firmly, softening her tone for you while keeping the management team calm, “you’re not a problem. You’re… you. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s loud. But it’s also creativity, energy, and… you. We’ll make it work, together.”
The tension in the room finally eased a little. The managers nodded, exchanging silent looks, while Lara squeezed your hand.
Later, back at the dorm, you sat curled up on the couch, hugging your knees. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I feel like I made everything harder for everyone.”
Manon sat beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey. You didn’t make things harder. You just… exist fully. Sometimes that’s overwhelming for others, sure, but it’s also why we love having you here. Don’t apologize for being you.”
You sniffled, leaning into her warmth. “It just… feels like too much sometimes.”
“I know,” Manon said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. We’ve got your back—always.”
And for the first time that day, you let yourself believe it.
~
The clock on the wall read 10:17. You were supposed to be in the rehearsal studio fifteen minutes ago.
Rushing through the doors, breathless, hair slightly disheveled, you tried to explain. “I—uh—traffic was bad! And then I dropped my notebook! And the bus—”
Management didn’t even look up from their clipboards. “Y/N! This is not acceptable. We are on a strict schedule, and your tardiness affects everyone.”
Your stomach twisted. You weren’t lazy. You weren’t careless, well, not intentionally, but ADHD made timing… complicated. You could plan, prepare, set alarms, and still somehow misjudge, forget, or get sidetracked.
The Kats’ reactions were a mix of patience, exasperation, and thinly veiled worry.
Daniela muttered under her breath, “Classic.”
Megan leaned over, whispering, “It’s not on purpose, but… management looks seriously unhappy.”
Sophia’s jaw tightened, but she gave you a small nod of reassurance. “We’ll get through it, just… focus.”
You bit your lip. You could feel the disappointment radiating from the others, not angry, just… frustrated. That stung even more than management’s scolding. You hated feeling like you were holding anyone back.
Manon, standing beside you, rested a hand on your back. “Hey,” she said quietly, making sure management didn’t hear. “It’s okay. Just… breathe. We’re all here now. That’s what matters.”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. “I’m… sorry. I really tried. I just… sometimes my brain… well, you know.”
She smiled softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I know. And it’s fine. We’ve got you. We’ll handle the rest.”
Management continued their lecture, but the warmth from Manon, and the subtle support from the group, helped ground you. You might have been late, but you weren’t alone, and that made the weight just a little lighter.
~
It was late. The studio lights had dimmed to a soft glow, the echoes of rehearsal still lingering in the polished wood floors. Everyone else had gone home hours ago, leaving you and Manon sprawled across the floor amid a graveyard of empty water bottles, a notebook bursting with messy doodles and half-finished lyrics, and a tangle of Manon’s headphones that you’d “borrowed” at least three times today.
You were on your third tangent in a row, your words tumbling out faster than anyone could process.
“—and I swear, if you watch pigeons long enough, you’ll notice they have regional accents! Like, not even kidding! Some of them sound like they just stepped out of a café in Paris, and—oh, and glitter! Does glitter ever actually disappear? Because I feel like it’s eternal. It gets everywhere. Forever.”
Manon leaned back on her elbows, laughing and shaking her head. “You are impossible,” she muttered, though her grin betrayed her amusement.
You whipped your head toward her, eyes wide like a cartoon character struck by revelation. “Anyway, that’s why pigeons are basically the true rulers of the earth—OH WAIT—”
Manon blinked. “…what?”
Your expression softened, and for a brief second, the frenetic energy dropped, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable. “I love you.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and sudden, completely out of context with your usual chaos.
Manon froze, eyes wide. “…what.”
But true to form, your attention drifted instantly, as if the confession had already passed. You grabbed the headphone cord, twisting it absently around your fingers. “Do you think if I wrapped this around three times it would reach the—”
Manon’s hand shot out, gently grabbing your chin and tilting your face toward her. “Wait. You just said you love me.”
You blinked, a sheepish, hyper-aware flush creeping across your cheeks. “…Oh. Yeah. I did. Uh. Surprise??”
Manon let out a soft, incredulous laugh, eyes shining in the dim light. “That’s… the most you way of confessing possible.”
You shrugged, grinning like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Well, I was gonna do a whole thing, like a speech or maybe a pigeons-and-glitter-themed PowerPoint, but then I got distracted…” You gestured vaguely at the empty bottles and scattered doodles. “…by pigeons.”
Her laughter softened into something warm as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to yours, cutting through your rambling like a pause button on a chaotic playlist.
You froze for half a second, then grinned through the daze, bouncing up so quickly that your notebook nearly toppled over. “…Sooo… does that mean you love me too, or do I need to get the pigeons to deliver a follow-up letter?”
Manon rolled her eyes, laughing as she tugged you down beside her. “God, you’re ridiculous. Yes. I love you too. No pigeon mail necessary.”
You flopped onto the floor beside her, notebook and all, grinning uncontrollably. Your chaos was still in full swing, jittery energy buzzing through your veins, but this time it wasn’t stressful, it was perfect. Manon watched you, soft smile on her face, her thumb tracing circles on your arm.
Because your chaos, your messiness, your whirlwind brain… that was exactly what she had fallen for.
And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.
~
You were curled up on the couch, knees drawn to your chest, spinning a pen between your fingers like it held the answers to all the mysteries in the universe. Your hair was slightly mussed, and your notebook sat abandoned beside you, pages filled with half-formed lyrics, doodles, and random reminders you’d already forgotten. Your thoughts raced faster than your body could keep up, buzzing with the frustration of not being able to pin anything down.
Manon didn’t say anything at first. She just slid in beside you, close enough that her warmth was a gentle anchor. Her hand rested over yours, stilling the restless fingers that refused to stop spinning the pen.
You glanced at her mid-sentence, words tumbling out before your brain could fully process them.
“And then I thought, if cats had wallets, maybe they’d—oh wait, no, never mind. Or maybe they’d have, like, little tiny credit cards for fish? But then—oh, forget it!”
Manon chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Hey,” she murmured, “breathe with me for a second.”
Her hands moved to your shoulders, firm but gentle, guiding you into slow, measured breaths. You followed hesitantly at first, unsure how to stop your thoughts from spinning, but the rhythm of her inhaling and exhaling gradually seeped into you. The tightness in your chest loosened, and the buzzing in your brain dimmed just enough to notice the quiet around you.
You let out a shaky laugh, half-smile tugging at your lips. “Sorry… I can’t stop thinking. It’s like my brain doesn’t know when to pause.”
Manon’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand as she leaned closer. “I know,” she said softly, eyes warm. “That’s why I’m here. You don’t have to manage it all alone.”
Your head found her shoulder naturally, a small sigh escaping you as you settled in. The world slowed for a few minutes, the chaos of your mind no longer demanding your full attention. You watched the way her hair caught the soft light from the floor lamp, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, and the ease in the curve of her smile.
“Even if my brain is… a tornado,” you whispered, voice muffled against her shoulder, “I like that you stay.”
Manon tightened her arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t leave for the world. Tornadoes are kind of… fun.”
You laughed softly, a genuine, unburdened sound, and let yourself sink into the calm. For a moment, the pen stopped spinning. The thoughts slowed. And the world didn’t feel quite so overwhelming, because she was there, steady and patient, keeping you grounded amidst your storm.
~
The fan signing was in full swing. The venue buzzed with chatter, cameras flashing, and the occasional squeal of excitement as fans got their chance to meet Katseye. You sat at the table, albums stacked neatly, or at least that was the plan, but your focus had completely veered off the instructions.
Instead of writing names neatly, your pen danced across the pages. Little doodles started appearing beside each signature: a tiny dragon for one fan, a smiling cat for another, a miniature unicorn perched on the edge of a photo. Every smudge and misstep only made you laugh harder.
Lara leaned over, eyes wide. “You do realize some fans just want their names, right?”
You looked up, grinning like you’d just pulled off the best heist ever. “Yes… but some dragons are better than names.” You added a tiny fire trail to one, snickering at your own creativity.
Manon, sitting beside you, watched with amusement. Quietly, she slid her hand over your wrist, steadying your restless fingers. “They’ll love it anyway,” she said softly, her smile warm and teasing.
You peeked at her, eyes sparkling. “Do you think they’ll notice the glitter I added to the unicorn?”
“Absolutely,” she whispered, squeezing your hand lightly. “And they’ll love it. Just… maybe not the glitter in their hair.”
You laughed, nodding, before returning to your chaotic masterpiece. Each doodle became more elaborate, your energy practically vibrating through the pen. Some fans leaned closer, their faces lighting up when they saw a dragon breathing tiny flames or a cat tangled in yarn beside their names.
“Look! I made it breathe fire!” you exclaimed to a young fan, holding the album up like a trophy.
The fan’s eyes went wide. “Wow! I love it!”
Lara shook her head, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “I can’t even be mad.”
Manon, still holding your wrist gently, leaned closer to whisper, “You’re ridiculous… and amazing.”
You grinned, feeling a bubble of pride and chaos mingling together. The rest of the fan signing continued in a blur of laughter, smudges, and tiny dragons, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way, because with Manon beside you, even your ADHD-fueled chaos felt like exactly where you were supposed to be.
~
The fan signing was winding down, and a fan shyly approached, holding their phone. “Um… could we get a group photo?”
You immediately perked up, eyes sparkling. “Yes! But boring poses are lame. Let’s do something fun!”
Before anyone could protest, you dove to the floor, striking a dramatic pose that vaguely resembled a superhero landing. “Follow me!”
Megan groaned, trying to maintain some dignity, but you grabbed her arm and dragged her down beside you. Daniela tripped over Sophia’s foot, who was already muttering under her breath about professionalism, and Lara ended up leaning sideways on Yoonchae, who was laughing so hard she nearly fell.
The fan hesitated for a moment, wide-eyed, but then couldn’t stop laughing too. Cameras clicked, the pile of chaos somehow creating the most genuine smiles.
Sophia sat up, face in her hands, muttering, “You never fail to make things… interesting.”
You snorted, spinning onto your back to wave at the camera. “I call it… adding flavor!”
Manon, kneeling at the edge with the camera in hand, barely contained her laughter. “…this is going in my phone. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You grinned up at her, flopping dramatically over Lara’s legs. “Cute AND chaotic. That’s me in a nutshell.”
The fan’s face was bright red from laughing, but they hugged you all anyway. “This… this is perfect!”
Even Sophia couldn’t hide the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. “I swear… you’re a walking disaster. But somehow it works.”
Manon leaned closer, brushing a stray hair from your face. “See? Even chaos can be beautiful.”
You blinked at her, heart doing a little somersault. “…Maybe chaos is my superpower.”
She laughed softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Yeah… and it’s exactly why I stick around.”
You smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. “Good. Because there’s plenty more where this came from.”
And with that, the group laughed again, the fan snapping a few more photos as you all tumbled into an accidental pile of pure, unfiltered energy.
~
You were sprawled across the couch, laptop balanced precariously on your knees, scrolling through fan comments while the group’s livestream hummed in the background.
“Okay, okay,” you said, eyes wide, voice bubbling with excitement. “Listen to this one—’Y/N’s chaos energy is the best. She just jumped from knitting to dragons to noodles in one sentence. ICONIC.’”
You burst out laughing, nearly tipping the laptop over. “Yes! That’s literally me! I mean… who even does that? Only me!”
Manon, sitting close on the couch, nudged your shoulder gently. “See? They love you exactly like this. Me too.”
You froze mid-scroll, blinking at her. “…Wait… what?”
She smiled softly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “I said, they love you. And so do I.”
You blinked, cheeks heating, and then your mind jumped ahead at lightning speed. “…Oh! Speaking of love, do you think dragons have favorite colors? Because Toast would definitely pick neon pink, right? And maybe… if I knit him a tiny scarf—”
Manon laughed, curling an arm around your shoulders. “Oh my god… you just can’t stop, can you?”
“Stop?” you repeated, eyes shining. “Me? Never. But listen—if Toast wore a scarf, it’d have to match his eyes, obviously, or he’d be offended. And—oh! I need to draw this.”
Manon shook her head, laughing so hard she nearly fell sideways. “You’re ridiculous. And I love it. And you. Don’t ever change.”
You froze for a heartbeat, brain buzzing at full speed, and then grinned wildly. “Okay, okay, but can we add glitter? Obviously we need glitter.”
The chat exploded with laughing emojis, hearts, and messages praising your energy. You read another one aloud: “’Y/N is pure chaos and creativity—never stop!’ YES! That’s exactly me!”
Manon leaned closer, resting her chin on your shoulder. “And I never want you to.”
You smiled, halfway between grinning and rambling again. “…And also, do you think pigeons get tired of walking, or are they secretly doing cardio for fun?”
Manon laughed softly, holding you tight. “I swear… you’re going to give me whiplash one day.”
“…Worth it,” you said, half-serious, half-distracted, already grabbing a notebook to draw dragons in glitter scarves.
I was the one who requested the ADHD!reader story and just wanted to drop by and express my gratitude for accepting the story idea 💕 Thank you so much 😊
If you need any help with navigating the ADHD stuff, Im happy to lend a hand! (as an Audhder myself)
Enjoy your hiking trip 😘
Have a good one x
Aww thank you so much for the kind words 💕 I’m really glad you suggested it! I just got back from my hiking trip (my feet are so dead 😅), so now I finally have time to sit down and write again. I really love doing representation fics, because there definitely aren’t enough out there.
And thank you for offering to help with the ADHD side of things, I might take you up on that sometime 💖
Summary: You are a top dancer misunderstood by all, are forced to work together with Daniela. Through silence and struggle, a secret bond grows — until everything changes.
Author’s note: English is not my first language. Small one before I go on vacation. Afterwards I will make a masterlist.
The mirrored walls of Studio 3 reflected a hundred little movements, people shifting on their feet, adjusting their tops, flicking their hair. You kept your eyes forward, locked on the coach’s lips as she read the rankings from the audition week.
“First place… Y/N. Second place… Daniela.”
A hush fell over the room, then a low murmur like a ripple in still water. You could feel it, the undercurrent of surprise, mixed with something sharper, something like quiet resentment. You didn’t look around. Your mind was already running through the next choreography block, calculating timing, steps, spacing.
Coach continued, “…For the showcase duet, top two will be paired. That means Daniela and Y/N, congratulations.”
You lifted your gaze just enough to meet Daniela’s in the mirror. She didn’t smile. Neither did you. Not dislike, something colder, sharper, more strategic. Two dancers sizing each other up before the first move of a long game.
From the corner of your eye, you caught Manon lean close to Lara, whispering something with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. Sophia offered a polite but tight smile your way. Megan looked down at her shoes, her expression unreadable.
Your chest stayed steady, your face calm. From their looks, it was clear they read your quiet focus as arrogance. They didn’t know you were just trying to keep your head clear, to hold the music and movement in place like fragile glass.
After class, in the quiet corner of the cafeteria, Daniela leaned back against the window ledge, arms crossed. Manon, Lara, Sophia, and Megan clustered around her, low voices swirling with opinions.
Manon crossed her arms, staring at Daniela sharply. “I still don’t get it, Dani. Why are you stuck working with them? They’re… so quiet. Like they think they’re better than everyone.”
Lara smirked, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s like they don’t even want to be here. Acting all arrogant and cold.”
Sophia tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But you can’t deny they earned first place. They must be good.”
Daniela folded her arms, eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s not about who’s loudest or friendliest. It’s about who dances best. And Y/N does.”
Megan bit her lip nervously, glancing between everyone. “I mean… maybe there’s more to them? Like, they’re just different, not mean. Maybe they just don’t get people well.”
Manon scoffed, shaking her head. “Different? That’s just a nice way of saying ‘weird.’ Doesn’t mean they’re any good for you.”
Daniela’s voice turned firm, unwavering. “I’m not here to please you guys. I’m here to win. And Y/N is the only one who pushes me hard enough.”
The group fell silent for a moment, the tension thick.
Daniela gave a small, tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Me too.”
Rehearsal Day 1
The studio smelled like sweat and the faint scent of polished wood. You entered quietly, your eyes scanning the mirrored walls rather than the people around you. Daniela was already there, stretching with purpose, her braid whipping over her shoulder like a weapon.
The music started, heavy beats filling the room. Daniela’s every move was sharp and precise, like she was daring the floor to break beneath her. You tried to match her energy, but your attention split between counting the beats and trying to keep your focus on the choreography.
On the third run of the lift sequence, you couldn’t help yourself.
“Your third turn is late by about 0.4 seconds,” you said, voice low but firm.
Daniela stopped mid-spin, blinking in surprise. “You timed it?”
You nodded, feeling the weight of the silence that followed.
“You can hear it — between the snare hit and the piano,” you explained, your eyes still locked on the floor.
She gave a slow, unsure smile. “Thanks, I guess.”
You barely met her eyes, it was easier not to.
Rehearsal Day 2
You arrived early, slipping into the studio as Daniela warmed up, her movements fierce as ever. You moved silently through the choreography, your eyes on your feet or the floor, avoiding the mirrors except when necessary.
Daniela was talking more than before, calling out corrections, laughing at mistakes, pushing you to give more. But when she glanced your way, you quickly looked away.
She stopped abruptly during a complicated sequence.
“Hey! Are you even listening?” she demanded, frustration threading her voice.
You froze. “I’m… trying,” you said softly, eyes on the floor again.
“I mean, you barely say anything. How do you expect me to know you’re with me on this?” she said, arms crossed.
You struggled to explain, the words were tangled in your throat. The truth was, you found it hard to make eye contact, especially under pressure. The constant expectation to read faces and moods felt overwhelming.
“I find it hard to… um, look sometimes,” you admitted quietly.
Daniela’s expression softened a little, though the tension still lingered. “You know, dancing’s a conversation — it’s not just steps. I need to see you there.”
You nodded slowly, trying to meet her gaze for just a moment before looking down again.
She sighed, her voice losing some of its edge. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Rehearsal Day 3
By the third rehearsal, things were shifting.
The music played and you both moved together with fewer mistakes. Daniela caught the timing better, and you caught her subtle shifts in rhythm.
She smiled more, sometimes, when you nailed a move perfectly or mirrored her energy, she caught your eye and grinned. You returned it with a slight nod.
The social dance was awkward, you stumbled over small talk, unsure how much to say or when. But Daniela was patient, her fierce determination now mixed with quiet understanding.
Later, as you packed up your things, Yoonchae slid beside you, hoodie zipped tight.
“You know she thinks you were flexing on her, right?” she whispered.
“What?” You blinked.
“I mean, you told her her timing was off, but she heard ‘I’m better than you.’”
You shook your head. “That’s not what I meant.”
Yoonchae smiled. “I know. But she doesn’t see the world like you do. She just does not know you yet.”
Two weeks in, rehearsal had stretched late into the evening, the studio dim except for the harsh glow of overhead lights. Someone had cranked the speaker volume up between takes, too loud, the bass rattling your chest, the treble scraping your nerves. You were midway through stretching when the fuzz behind your eyes thickened into a dull pressure.
You didn’t say anything, just froze, the discomfort growing.
Daniela noticed immediately. Without a word, she stalked over to the speaker, twisted the volume knob down until the music softened into something bearable. Then she pivoted back toward you, still not meeting your eyes, resetting her stance like a general ready to command.
“From the top?” she asked, voice steady but quiet.
You nodded, your throat too tight for more.
The music started again, pounding through the studio, and you both moved, her sharp, precise, like she was daring the floor to catch fire; you focused on the counts, trying to keep your body and mind synced. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.
At the end of the sequence, Daniela threw up her hand for a high-five.
You, distracted by reaching for your water bottle, missed it.
When you glanced up, her hand was halfway down, her lips pulling into an awkward smile.
You swallowed, caught off guard. “Sorry.”
She laughed softly, but it was a little tense. “It’s okay.”
That evening, you were gathering your things by the door when Daniela’s voice stopped you.
“You don’t hate me, right?”
You blinked. The question felt sudden, raw.
“…No.”
She tilted her head, eyes curious.
“Then why do you barely talk to me?”
You hesitated, searching for an answer that wouldn’t sound cold or weird.
“I like dancing with you,” you said simply. “That’s… enough.”
Her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile.
“…Okay. Good.”
There was a beat of silence before she added, “But sometimes… you don’t even look at me.”
You swallowed again, the knot in your chest tightening.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “It’s hard for me to look sometimes.”
She frowned, stepping closer. “Why?”
You struggled. Words that felt easy to say inside tangled on your tongue.
“I get distracted by everything,” you admitted. “And I don’t always understand… when to talk, or what to say. And eye contact makes it worse.”
Her eyes softened.
“I didn’t know.”
You shrugged, suddenly unsure how to explain what felt normal for you but strange for others.
Daniela blinked, then smiled gently.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Together.”
The studio was dim that night, just the two of you under the harsh fluorescents. You’d been drilling the showcase lift over and over, Daniela sprinting toward you, leaping, your hands catching her waist, spinning, then setting her down smoothly. Easy in theory, but the timing had to be perfect.
On the third try, your foot caught slightly on the floor. The spin wobbled; her balance faltered. Reflexively, she grabbed your shoulders to steady herself. Your hands tightened on her hips, anchoring her weight.
For a moment, the air between you thickened, too close, too quiet. You could hear the faint hitch of her breath.
Slowly, her hand slid up the back of your neck, fingers brushing your hair lightly. Your eyes locked, hers flickering down from your gaze to your lips, then back again.
You barely dared to breathe, but you nodded ever so slightly.
Her smile softened, then she leaned in, pressing her lips gently to yours.
The kiss was slow, soft, breathtaking. Like a whispered promise, a secret shared in the stillness.
When she pulled back, her cheeks flushed pink. “Guess that’s our secret now.
You swallowed, heart pounding, and the world outside the studio faded away.
Her friends weren’t changing. Manon muttered comments under her breath, Lara sighed dramatically when you didn’t join small talk. Sophia skipped over you when inviting “everyone” for dinner. Megan stayed quiet but didn’t intervene.
Daniela started walking with you after practice. Sometimes a granola bar appeared in your bag. She never mentioned it.
After that, you found each other in quiet corners, stairwells, back rows of the auditorium, the empty studio after lights-out.
You told her about sensory overload, about missing cues. She told you about pressure, and how her friends expected her to be exactly like them.
Yoonchae caught on. “Your face changes when she’s around,” she teased. You gave her a flat look. “Don’t worry,” she added. “Secret’s safe.”
You and Daniela moved like one mind during the dance. Every beat clean, every lift perfect. The applause was a wave of heat and noise.
Backstage, she caught your hand briefly before letting go. No kiss, no risk. You both knew why, her friends were close, and you weren’t ready for them to know.
A week later, you went looking for Daniela after she missed practice.
You knocked on her dorm door. It opened to Sophia, who blinked at you. “She’s not here,” she said flatly.
From inside, Manon’s voice called, “Who is it?”
Sophia hesitated. “It’s… Y/N.”
Lara appeared, leaning on the doorframe behind her. “Looking for Dani? Cute.” Her tone dripped mockery.
Manon joined her, smirking. “Did you get lost on your way to your ivory tower?”
You didn’t fully get the reference, but the tone was enough. Your chest tightened, the noise of their voices feeling too sharp.
You muttered a “Never mind” and walked away fast, eyes on the floor.
The warm-up track pulsed through the speakers, a steady rhythm you were counting along to, one-two, three-four, legs moving in sync with the line across the floor. You were focused on your footing, the stretch in your calves, the pattern you’d drilled into muscle memory.
Then, a sudden shift in weight that wasn’t yours. A sharp nudge at your ankle.
Your brain didn’t process it before your foot hooked and your body pitched forward. The polished wood rushed up. Your palms didn’t catch you in time, your head smacked the floor with a sickening thunk.
A white flash. Then ringing.
The beat of the music was muffled, distant, like it was coming from underwater.
You blinked, but the world blurred, the lines of the ceiling bending strangely. You tried to push up, but your hands slid. Your stomach turned.
“Hey! What the hell?!” Daniela’s voice cut through, sharp as glass. She was already kneeling beside you, her hand steady on your shoulder.
You tried to sit up. She pressed lightly against you. “Don’t move, baby. Just… stay down a second.”
Someone muttered, “She tripped.”
“On purpose,” Daniela snapped, her voice rising. “You think I didn’t see? Whoever did that better hope I don’t find out— actually, no. Forget that.” Her tone shifted, colder. “She’s my girlfriend. Touch her again and you’re done.”
The word hung in the air, girlfriend. The room stilled.
Megan’s mouth parted, eyes darting between you and Daniela. Sophia’s eyebrows knit together. Manon and Lara? They exchanged a look that was pure indifference.
You remembered flashes, the nurse in the college clinic saying “mild concussion”, Daniela’s arm around your waist on the walk back, her muttering something in Spanish under her breath every time someone stared.
Her dorm room was dim, the blinds drawn. She set you on the bed and handed you a cold water bottle.
“Small sips,” she said. Her voice was softer now, but her hands were still tense, like she was trying to stop them from shaking.
“I’m fine,” you murmured.
“You’re not fine. You fell hard enough to scare the crap out of me.” Her jaw worked. Then quieter: “You didn’t even see it coming, did you?”
You shook your head. “I… didn’t realize anyone would—” You cut yourself off, because finishing the sentence made your chest hurt.
Daniela sat beside you, one leg tucked under her. “You don’t have to realize. I’ll see it for you.”
Daniela was pacing her dorm room, phone pressed to her ear, speaking rapid spanish into the receiver. You were lying on her bed with the blinds drawn, a soft ache still sitting at the back of your skull.
When she hung up, she swore softly.
“I have to go,” she said, pulling on her jacket. “Family thing. I’ll be back by morning.”
You frowned. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, baby. The nurse said someone should wake you every hour tonight. If you start feeling worse, we go to the hospital. No arguments.”
Before you could respond, there was a knock. Megan peeked in. “I heard you talking. I can—”
Daniela didn’t let her finish. “No offense, Megan, but you fall asleep watching movies. I need someone who won’t.”
“I’m right here,” Sophia’s voice came from the hall. She stepped in, arms crossed. “I can do it.”
Daniela hesitated, clearly running through options in her head. Finally, she sighed. “Fine. But you call me every time you wake her, got it?”
Sophia gave a little salute. “Got it.”
When Daniela left, the room felt quieter, heavier. Sophia sat at the desk, scrolling her phone. Every so often, she’d glance over like she was checking you hadn’t dissolved into thin air.
At the hour mark, she came over and nudged your arm. “Hey. Wake up.”
You blinked. “…I was asleep.”
“That’s the point.” She handed you a glass of water. “Drink.”
You sipped, then handed it back. “…Thanks.”
She notices how you immediately adjust your blanket so the tag isn’t touching your skin, then sit perfectly still, eyes on the corner of the room instead of her face. She doesn’t think much of it yet.
Later on, Megan stopped by with snacks. She lingered, leaning against the wall. “So… you and Dani are…?”
You tilted your head. “What?”
Sophia gave her a seriously? look. “Megan.”
“What? It’s obvious now,” Megan said. “The way she was fussing earlier—”
“She fusses because she cares,” Sophia cut in, and her tone was surprisingly… gentle. She looked at you. “She really does.”
You just nodded. “I know.”
You reach over, quietly shifting the snacks into a very specific order, chocolate, chips, chocolate, chips, and push the extra bag away.
“You don’t like those?” Megan asks.
“They smell wrong,” you say simply.
Sophia and Megan exchange a quick glance. Not judgment, exactly, more… interest.
Sophia sits on the edge of the bed. “Can I ask you something?”
You shrug. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you ever talk much at practice?”
You answer without hesitation. “I don’t know what to say. And when I try, it comes out wrong. People get mad.”
Megan leans against the wall, arms folded. “So you just… stay quiet?”
“It’s easier,” you admit. “Less chance of making them hate me more.”
There’s a pause, then Sophia says softly, “I think… you might be autistic.”
You look up, blinking. “…I know.”
The room goes very still. Megan exhales like she’s been holding her breath. “Okay… wow. That… makes a lot of things make sense.”
Sophia nods slowly. “Yeah. Like how you focus on the counts in choreography. How you don’t like eye contact. The snack order thing…” She smiles faintly. “It’s not arrogance. It’s just… you.”
The air feels different now, softer. Megan sits on the desk, chatting idly about nothing important. Sophia asks if you want the blanket tucked a certain way.
Before Daniela arrives, Sophia says quietly, “I think we owe you an apology.”
Megan nods. “And maybe… a fresh start?”
You think about it, then say, “Only if you stop putting your water bottles on the floor during rehearsal. It messes up the spacing.”
They both laugh, and it’s not mean this time.
When Daniela came back, Sophia was halfway through a cup of coffee, Megan asleep in the desk chair. You were propped against the pillows, awake.
Daniela brushed her hand over your hair. “How were they?”
“Fine,” Sophia said, standing. “Didn’t even try to escape.”
Daniela gave her a small smile and then presses a small kiss to your forehead. “Thanks… for taking care of them.”
Sophia glanced at you, then back. “Anytime.”
Since that day you became friends with Sophia and Megan. You even went on a double date with Megan and Yoonchae.
But the other two were much harder to convince.
You lay on Dani’s bed, back resting against the soft sheets, hands folded behind your head, completely at ease. Dani sat beside you, her long nails teasing light, scratchy patterns across your stomach, making you giggle quietly in that warm, safe space you two shared.
Without a word, Dani leaned in slowly and pressed a soft, tender kiss on your lips, brief, gentle, full of everything that words couldn’t say. Your heart fluttered, and you closed your eyes just for a moment, savoring it.
The door was open, and just as Lara walked past on her way to her room, she glanced inside. Her eyes caught that fleeting kiss between you and Dani. She froze for a heartbeat, then kept walking, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips.
Maybe you really were good for Dani after all.
The following morning, Lara’s usual cold glare was softened. She didn’t avoid you anymore in the hallways or toss sharp looks like before. Instead, she gave you a small nod when you passed by, the kind that said, I see you now.
During practice, she even helped you adjust your moves once without any snark.
It wasn’t a complete 180, but it was enough to feel like a crack in the walls around you.
That evening, the soft glow of Dani’s bedside lamp filled the room in a warm, golden haze. You two sat close on her bed, legs tangled beneath a shared blanket, the quiet between you comfortable and familiar.
You cleared your throat, breaking the silence.
“Hey… Lara saw us yesterday.”
Dani shrugged, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear without looking up.
“Yeah. Did you freak out?”
You smiled nervously, fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket.
“A little. But she didn’t say anything. Just… changed.”
Dani’s lips curved into a soft smile, her fingers beginning to trace slow, lazy circles on your arm.
“She’s starting to get it. Maybe seeing us like that made it real for her. For them.”
You leaned into her touch, feeling a calm safety settle around your chest.
“I hope so. I want us to not have to hide.”
Dani’s voice dropped a little, quiet but steady.
“Me too. But we’ll take it one step at a time.”
Your eyes stayed on her face, watching as a few soft curls slipped free from the messy bun she’d thrown up earlier. “You’re really beautiful with your hair like that,” you said, cheeks warming with the honesty of the moment.
Dani’s cheeks flushed a gentle pink. She laughed softly and leaned forward, one hand sliding up to scratch lightly at the back of her neck.
“You’re cute,” she whispered, voice low and a little breathless.
Before you could say anything, she pressed her lips gently to yours, soft, warm, and perfectly slow.
The world shrank until it was just the two of you, wrapped in quiet and trust.
At first, Manon is the most resistant. She crosses her arms whenever you enter the room, her eyes narrowing when you and Daniela share quiet moments. She doesn’t outright say anything, but her cold shoulder is a clear message.
When Daniela and you are dealing with your concussion and the group slowly finds out, Megan and Sophia show sympathy, Lara softens, but Manon stays distant. She questions Daniela privately:
“Are you sure this is a good idea? You’re risking everything — your image, the team’s focus… for someone who doesn’t really fit.”
Daniela stands firm, but respects Manon’s feelings. Later, when Manon sees how patient and genuine you are, especially during rehearsals and caring for Daniela, her walls start to crack.
The room hummed with low chatter and the faint scent of sweat and spilled coffee. Manon, Lara, Megan, and Sophia sat clustered on the worn-out couch, the tension almost tangible as they glanced toward you and Yoonchae, who were quietly perched nearby.
Megan’s hand found Yoonchae’s, fingers intertwining easily, a small anchor in the storm.
Manon folded her arms, eyes sharp. “So… you really care about Daniela,” she said, voice low but pointed, finally breaking the silence.
You shifted uncomfortably, but Yoonchae squeezed Megan’s hand and smiled gently at Manon.
“Yeah,” Megan answered quietly, “and she’s not the person we all thought.”
Sophia nodded. “I was surprised, too. I mean, after everything, seeing how Y/N stayed with Daniela… it changes things.”
Lara snorted softly. “I thought they’d just be distractions, honestly.”
Manon’s gaze lingered on you. “And you? You’re quiet, don’t really talk much… makes people think you’re arrogant.”
You looked at her honestly. “I’m not good with words. Or with knowing what people expect. But I’m here. For Daniela. That’s all that matters.”
A pause.
Yoonchae smiled, voice warm. “Sometimes, people who don’t say much are the ones who listen the most.”
Megan chuckled softly. “And the ones who care the most.”
Manon’s posture relaxed just a little, her voice softer. “I guess… I wanted to hate you. But you proved me wrong.”
The room grew warmer, not just from the heat of the studio lights, but from something shifting between all of you.
You glanced toward Daniela, who was watching quietly from the corner. Taking a deep breath, you stood and walked over to her. With a shy smile, you reached out and gently kissed her, soft, quick, full of everything words couldn’t say.
The room burst into cheers, laughter, and claps.
Megan and Yoonchae grinned at each other. Lara gave a small, approving nod. Sophia wiped a happy tear.
Even Manon, arms still crossed, allowed the faintest smile.
For the first time, it felt like you all were on the same team.
Summary: You’re the quiet seventh member of KATSEYE, talented but misunderstood. You don’t like loud places, bright lights, or being touched without warning. At first, the others don’t quite know how to understand you… until they learn your rhythm. Especially Sophia.
Author’s note: English is not my first language. I am going to discontinue this for now. If you guys have requests or ideas, you can always let me know.
As mentioned in an answer to the ADHD ask, I am going hiking for a week, so I won’t be able to post then, but afterwards I am going to write again. I still have a lot of prompts ready to go, small ones and big ones. If you guys have requests, send them and I will see after my vacation whether I will do them :).
Previous part
Three days into this leg of the tour, your body felt like it was made of cement and static electricity at the same time.
It wasn’t the performances that drained you, you loved being on stage. The music was grounding, the choreography familiar.
It was everything around it.
The fluorescent lights in the makeup room buzzed like a mosquito right in your ear. Your in-ear monitor cable wouldn’t stop brushing the side of your neck. Someone’s hairspray had turned the backstage air into a perfumed fog.
By the time you made it back to the bus, you were barely holding yourself together. You dropped onto the couch, curled up in your shark blanket, and tucked Sharky under your chin.
The fabric of your shark pajama pants was smooth and cool against your skin, safe, predictable.
You didn’t even hear Sophia at first.
Only when the couch dipped beside you did you blink and see her there, watching you with that gentle “I know” expression. She reached out, resting a warm hand on your knee.
“We can skip the next interview,” she said softly.
“We can’t,” you mumbled.
“We can. They’ll live.” She tugged the blanket tighter around you.
“You’re not a machine, Y/N.”
Your throat tightened. “But what if—”
“No ‘what if.’ We do the important ones. That’s enough.” She said it like it was the simplest truth in the world, and for the first time all day, your chest loosened.
“Come on, we are going to rest before the afterparty.”
~
The afterparty was loud. Too loud. Music pounding through the floor, flashing lights, overlapping conversations you couldn’t track. Your chest felt tight, like the noise was pressing against your ribs.
You stood near the bar with a radio presenter you’d met earlier that day, nodding and smiling politely. The party’s noise was a roaring tide, music pounding through the floor, flashing lights slicing through the dim, and conversations crashing over one another like waves you couldn’t quite catch.
The presenter leaned in close, their voice low and teasing as they laughed at something you said. You smiled faintly, barely registering the playfulness beneath their tone.
Without warning, their hand brushed against your arm again, this time a little firmer, lingering longer. You flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. The contact was just another sensation among many, too numerous and jumbled to fully process. Your attention was elsewhere, scattered like the flashing lights.
They traced a slow circle on your forearm with a finger, eyes sparkling. “You’re quiet, but you’ve got this mysterious vibe. I like it,” they said, voice dripping with charm.
You blinked, unsure how to respond. “Thank you,” you murmured, voice small, your mind struggling to focus.
They chuckled softly and then moved their hand to lightly rest near your wrist, fingers brushing yours just barely. “You’re kinda hard to read,” they teased. “But that just makes me want to figure you out more.”
You wanted to say something clever, but your throat felt tight and your thoughts tangled. Instead, you gave a polite smile and nodded, overwhelmed by the crowd, the noise, and the constant stimulation.
You didn’t notice Sophia until her hand slid softly onto your back, grounding you.
“Hey, love,” she said smoothly, voice calm like a safe harbor. “Ready to head out?”
Grateful for the escape, you nodded quickly, mumbling goodbyes that felt rushed and hollow.
Later, in the quiet of your hotel room, the contrast was sharp. The silence wrapped around you like a blanket, but you noticed Sophia’s unusual quietness.
You watched her sit on the edge of the bed, eyes distant, brows furrowed.
“Did something happen back there?” you finally asked, your voice hesitant.
She sighed, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the blanket.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you move away when she touched you? You always shy away from people, but you didn’t this time.”
You blinked, genuinely confused. “Because I knew you were close. I knew you were watching. And… I’m comfortable when you’re around. You make me feel safe, so I didn’t need to.”
Her gaze softened, but there was still something weighing on her.
“You can’t just drop things like that without warning,” she whispered, stepping closer.
Your heart hammered in your chest as she cupped your face, her thumb brushing gently across your cheek.
“I worry about you,” she admitted, voice trembling just slightly. “I don’t want to see you hurt or overwhelmed. You keep so much inside, and it scares me sometimes.”
You swallowed, words caught in your throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t always know how to explain.”
She smiled, a bittersweet curve of her lips. “You don’t have to explain everything. Just… let me in.”
Then she kissed you, slow, deep, lingering, and in that moment, all the noise and chaos outside melted away.
You felt both exposed and safe, like you were finally being seen for who you truly were.
~
The bathroom door clicked softly behind Sophia as she stepped out, hair still damp and wrapped in a towel that barely covered her. The faint scent of coconut shampoo filled the air.
Her eyes found yours immediately, sparkling with a mix of mischief and affection.
She sauntered over to the bed where you sat, your shark pajama pants cozy and familiar against your skin. With a slow, teasing smile, she slid her hand down your arm, sending a shiver through you.
“You look ridiculously cute in those shark pants,” she whispered, tugging playfully at the soft fabric near your thigh.
You laughed nervously, heart thudding hard in your chest. She settled beside you, her warmth radiating close. Her fingers traced your jaw gently, then slid down to cup your neck.
Suddenly, her lips pressed softly to your skin, light, teasing kisses trailing down to the hollow of your neck. You shivered as she nipped lightly and then sucked gently, leaving a faint but unmistakable mark.
“A little souvenir,” she murmured against your skin, eyes sparkling.
You blinked, flushed and surprised, but you didn’t shy away.
Sophia’s voice softened. “Why don’t you pull back? You’re usually so shy.”
You shrugged, confused but honest.
“Because… I know you’re close. I’m comfortable with you.”
She smiled warmly and kissed you deeply, lips warm and soft. After a moment, she pulled back, her eyes locking on yours with playful seriousness.
“Now, come on. Let me show you something.”
Her hands slipped to yours, guiding them gently to rest on her waist. “Touch me here, slowly. Like this.”
Your fingers trembled as you traced the curve of her side, nervous but eager.
Sophia’s soft moan encouraged you, and she helped you find the rhythm, slow, patient, responsive.
Then, she lifted your hand higher, guiding it to her chest. “Here. But be gentle.”
Your hand froze for a moment, then moved hesitantly. Sophia giggled softly, watching you closely.
“Try taking off my bra,” she teased.
You blinked, fingers fumbling with the clasp, awkward and unsure. The tiny hooks felt like a puzzle you couldn’t solve.
“I don’t know how this works,” you muttered, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Sophia laughed, a light, melodic sound that filled the room.
“Maybe it’s because you’re used to those sensory-friendly tops instead of bras,” she teased, winking.
You rolled your eyes but smiled, the tension melting away. With a little more guidance (and a few more fumbling attempts), you finally unclasped it.
Sophia’s smile was full of pride and affection. “See? You’re a quick learner.”
She pulled you close again, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
Wrapped in her warmth and the cozy comfort of your shark pants, you felt a wave of calm wash over you. Learning this new closeness wasn’t easy, but with Sophia’s patience and love, it was becoming something beautiful.
After the little victory with her bra, Sophia shifted so she could look at you fully, her smile softening.
“I know this is a lot to take in, ” she said quietly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “And sometimes your senses get overwhelmed.”
You nodded, the familiar flutter of nervousness creeping up your chest and stomach.
She reached out, taking your hands in hers. “If you ever feel too much—too loud, too close, just tell me. We’ll slow down. I’m here.”
You took a deep breath, letting her calm presence anchor you. “Thanks. It’s… easier with you.”
Sophia’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, soothing. “Good. Because I want this to be good for both of us.”
You leaned into her touch, heart pounding, but feeling safe enough to explore.
She guided your hands back to her, this time more confident, encouraging you to find what made her sigh and smile.
Slowly, you learned where to press, where to stroke, and when to listen to her soft, breathy sounds, the subtle shifts in her body.
Every small success made you grin, and Sophia’s eyes shone with pride.
When you paused, overwhelmed by the sensations or your own emotions, she held you close, whispering gentle reassurances. “You’re doing wonderfully. No rush.”
The quiet intimacy, her trust, and the gentle rhythm of learning together wrapped around you like your favorite shark blanket, safe, warm, and real.
And somewhere in the back of your mind, Sharky sat patiently, guarding this new, beautiful closeness you and Sophia were building.
After rehearsal, everyone was lounging in the green room, relaxing and chatting. You sat next to Sophia, your hand quietly resting on hers.
The contact felt grounding, but your cheeks were already warming, not just from the attention but because you could feel the subtle but growing buzz of nerves.
Manon glanced your way and smiled knowingly. “You’re looking… extra cozy these days.”
You blinked, confused. “Cozy? I don’t understand.”
Lara grinned, leaning in a little. “You know… like really close. Like, the kind of close that only happens after… well, that.”
You frowned. “That? Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
Megan giggled, eyes sparkling. “The, um, you know… sexy times.”
You swallowed hard, your heart thumping fast. The word felt loud in your ears. You weren’t used to talking about these things, and the teasing made your senses overload a little.
Yoonchae teased gently, “We saw the hickey, remember? That definitely counts as a clue. ”
You instinctively touched your neck and froze. Oh no. You’d hoped it was hidden better.
Sophia squeezed your hand softly and whispered, “It’s okay. They’re just teasing because they care.”
You nodded slowly, trying to keep your breathing steady. “I… I don’t always get the teasing. It’s a bit loud for me.”
Sophia smiled warmly and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I know, baby. I’ll help you through it.”
Lara laughed, waving a hand. “Don’t worry, we won’t go too hard on you. Just don’t let them see you blush too much!”
You gave a small, shy smile. “I’m trying.”
Manon winked. “You’re doing better than we thought. Sophia’s a good teacher.”
Sophia leaned over and kissed your cheek softly. “They are a fast learner.”
You relaxed a little, your nerves easing with Sophia’s presence. You might not always get the teasing, but you knew you weren’t alone, and that made all the difference.
Later that evening, the noise and teasing from earlier still buzzed faintly in your mind. Your senses felt a little overwhelmed, the bright lights, the laughter, the whispers, even though you knew everyone meant well.
Sophia noticed immediately. She pulled you close on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Hey,” she murmured softly, “do you want to get away from all that for a bit?”
You nodded, relieved. Sophia led you to your shared room where your shark blanket and beloved shark stuffy waited on the bed.
You immediately hugged the soft, familiar plush, the cool fabric soothing against your skin.
Sophia sat beside you, tracing gentle circles on your arm.
“You did so well today,” she said quietly.
“I know the teasing was hard, but you handled it.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the calm start to settle.
“Sometimes it’s too much… I don’t always understand why they joke like that.”
Sophia smiled tenderly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“It’s just their way of showing they care. And I’m here to help you through it.”
You rested your head on her shoulder, clutching your shark stuffy tighter.
“Can we just stay like this? Quiet, soft… please?”
“Always,” she promised.
In the warm, safe bubble of Sophia’s arms and the familiar comfort of your shark stuffy, the world’s noise dimmed, and your racing heart slowed.
You felt loved, understood, and perfectly okay just being yourself.
~
It started with the tiniest touch.
Sophia’s fingers would casually brush your neck, a light scratch behind your ear, or a soft kiss pressed right where your skin was most sensitive. And every single time, you’d freeze, cheeks blazing red, heart pounding, unable to hide how completely she melted you.
You didn’t even realize how obvious it was.
Sophia, of course, quickly noticed your reaction and soon learned how to use it to her advantage.
“Could you grab me that water bottle?” she’d ask, just as her fingers grazed your neck.
Your brain would short-circuit.
“Uh… sure!” you’d stammer, fumbling to comply.
Or when she wanted a cuddle mid-practice break, a slow kiss behind your ear would be all it took to have you wrapped around her finger.
Meanwhile, the rest of Katseye had caught on fast.
During rehearsal, Manon smirked and whispered loud enough for you to hear,
“Watch out—Sophia’s got you trained like a puppy.”
Lara chuckled, “Every time she does that little scratch, you’re toast.”
Megan teased, “It’s like your secret weakness.”
You blinked, confused. “I… I don’t think it’s that obvious?”
Yoonchae grinned. “It’s very obvious.”
Then came the fans.
Social media exploded with playful memes and fan edits titled things like “Neck Kisses = Instant Meltdown” or “Sophia’s Secret Weapon.” Some fans swore they could tell from videos when Sophia had just ‘activated’ you with a neck scratch.
At first, the teasing made you flustered and a little overwhelmed. But Sophia was always there, her hand gentle on your back, reminding you, “It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel all the feelings.”
One day, after a particularly long interview filled with subtle touches and whispered kisses from Sophia, you found yourself sitting with the others backstage.
Megan nudged you with a grin.
“So… when’s the next ‘neck scratch session’ scheduled? I’m taking notes.”
You groaned but smiled, leaning into Sophia’s side.
Sophia kissed your neck again, laughing softly. “I could schedule one right now, if you want.”
You melted instantly.
“See?” Manon teased.
“You’re completely hers.”
You blinked, cheeks flaming again, but this time you smiled, because you were, and you loved it.
~
The group was waiting in the green room before a live broadcast. You sat next to Sophia, trying to focus on the script in front of you, but your mind kept drifting. Sophia had other plans.
Without warning, her fingers lightly grazed your neck, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. You stiffened, blinking rapidly as you tried to keep your cool.
“Not now,” you whispered, voice tight with embarrassment.
Sophia grinned mischievously and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just behind your ear. Your resolve crumbled instantly.
You slumped against her, cheeks blazing red, and whispered, “Okay, okay, you win.”
From across the room, Manon caught the whole exchange and burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, he’s totally a goner!” she teased loudly.
Lara nudged you playfully. “You can’t hide it, you know. Neck scratches = instant surrender.”
You gave a helpless shrug, trying to laugh it off, but Sophia squeezed your hand lovingly, her eyes shining with affection.
Later, during a fan meet-and-greet, Sophia stood close by your side, her hand casually brushing your neck just enough to make you visibly flustered. Your cheeks flushed as you caught a fan whispering excitedly nearby.
“Are you guys seriously the cutest couple? Like, how does she do that?”
You glanced at Sophia, who winked playfully at you.
Another fan joked, “I bet Sophia has a secret neck-scratch move that’s your kryptonite.”
You laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. “I… I guess she does.”
Back at the dorm, the teasing escalated.
Yoonchae held up a small paper crown she’d made, decorated with tiny shark stickers, and carefully placed it on your head.
“You’re officially ‘The Melting Shark’ now,” she declared with a grin.
Megan giggled. “We should make a fan chant about it.”
Sophia wrapped her arms around you from behind, pressing soft kisses to your neck.
“I own you,” she murmured, voice low and teasing.
You buried your face in her shoulder, laughing and blushing, thinking, Well, at least I’m loved.
~
It was late, and the world outside was quiet except for the soft hum of the city below. You and Sophia had finally escaped the noise of rehearsals and fans, tucked away in your shared room.
Sophia lay beside you, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. The simple, repetitive motion felt soothing, the kind of calm sensory input you craved after a hectic day.
You rested your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart.
She smelled like lavender and warm vanilla, a scent you’d come to associate with safety.
“I love these quiet moments,” she whispered, her breath warm against your hair.
You nodded, closing your eyes.
“Me too. It’s easier to breathe when it’s just us.”
She smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss behind your ear. You shivered and melted a little, the way she touched you always made your chest flutter.
“Tell me what you need,” Sophia murmured. “I want to make sure you feel safe.”
You thought for a moment, then whispered, “Just... hold me. And don’t rush anything.”
She nodded, wrapping you in a gentle hug.
“Always.”
Time slowed as you both sank into the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
No pressure, no loud noises, just the steady rhythm of shared breaths and soft touches.
Sometimes Sophia would scratch lightly at your neck, just the way you liked, and you’d smile against her skin, feeling your whole body relax.
You weren’t perfect at reading social cues or loud conversations, but here, with Sophia, you didn’t have to be. You could just be yourself.
And that was everything.
~
You’re sitting at the family table, surrounded by warm chatter and the clinking of dishes.
Sophia’s mom has just placed a generous serving of kare-kare, a rich Filipino peanut stew, in front of you, the sauce thick and aromatic. The table is full of homemade food, and everyone looks thrilled.
Everyone but you.
You try a bite. It’s not bad, just… overwhelming. The texture, the flavors, the unfamiliar blend of spices, it’s a lot. You chew politely, swallowing with a sip of water, smiling every time someone looks your way. You don’t want to be rude. This matters to Sophia.
Next to you, Sophia squeezes your knee under the table, either sensing your discomfort or trying to reassure you. You squeeze back. You can do this.
“Do you like it?” her mom asks kindly from across the table.
You smile, hesitant.
“It’s really thoughtful. Thank you for making it.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, not judging, just reading you the way moms somehow can.
A beat passes. She chuckles softly, then leans in with a knowing glint in her eye.
“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, anak. I know this one isn’t for everyone.”
You blink, startled.
“I— I didn’t mean to offend—”
She waves a hand gently.
“You didn’t. It’s okay. You tried. That’s already very kind. ”
You notice her watching your small gestures, how your eyes flicker away from direct contact sometimes, how your fingers fidget just a little under the table.
She smiles warmly, understanding more than she says.
Sophia looks at you, eyes full of affection.
“That’s kind of their love language — cooking,”she whispers.
“But it doesn’t mean they expect you to love everything.”
Sophia’s dad hands you a plate of plain white rice and fried egg, with a playful wink.“We always keep the safe food around, just in case.”
You exhale in relief, tension melting from your shoulders. You smile genuinely this time. “Thank you. This — this is perfect.”
Later that night, while you’re doing the dishes, Sophia leans into your side.
“They really liked you,” she says softly.
“And… thanks for trying so hard.”
You rest your head against hers. “I just wanted to make a good impression.”
“You did,” she says.
“Being yourself was more than enough.”
Dinner was winding down. You were carefully picking at your food, trying to keep your focus on the conversation but feeling a bit overwhelmed by the mixture of new sounds and smells in the cozy dining room.
Sophia’s mother noticed your slight hesitation, the way your eyes briefly flicked away from direct contact, and how you occasionally rocked your foot gently under the table, a little self-soothing motion you did when things got intense.
She gave you a warm, knowing smile and asked softly, “Do you like the food? If anything feels too much, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I want you to feel comfortable here.”
You blinked, surprised by her kindness and the way she said it, not demanding, just
understanding.
Sophia, sitting next to you, squeezed your hand lightly. “She’s really sweet.”
Later, when Sophia went to the kitchen to help clear plates, her mother leaned closer and said quietly, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I think I understand a little bit about you. I have a nephew who’s autistic, and some of the things you do — the way you focus, how you get a bit overwhelmed — it’s familiar to me.”
You felt a wave of relief. Most people tried to hide or pretend, but here was someone who just got it.
“It’s okay,” she added gently. “You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. Just know you’re welcome here, exactly as you are.”
You smiled shyly, your shoulders relaxing for the first time all evening.
When Sophia came back to the table, you looked at her mom with gratitude. Sophia caught your eye and gave you a small, proud smile.
You thought: maybe meeting her parents wouldn’t be so scary after all.
It didn’t take long for Sophia’s family to pick up on your love for their daughter .
During a casual family brunch a few weeks after your first visit, Sophia’s mom glanced over and caught you staring at Sophia mid-sentence, a soft, almost dreamy smile playing on your lips. You didn’t even realize you were doing it.
Sophia’s dad chuckled quietly and nudged his wife, whispering, “Look at them—completely smitten.”
Sophia’s mom smiled knowingly and said gently, “You don’t have to hide it, you know. It’s clear how much you care about her.”
You flushed bright red, suddenly very aware that your gaze had lingered a little too long.
Sophia, sitting beside you, caught your blushing face and grinned mischievously.
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” she teased, leaning close. “I love that look. It means you’re mine.”
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you were all gathered at Sophia’s parents’ house again.
The sunlight streamed softly through the windows, casting a warm glow over everyone chatting and laughing.
You sat next to Sophia on the couch, your shark blanket wrapped loosely around your legs.
She leaned into you and casually reached up to scratch behind your neck, that simple touch always sent a wave of warmth through you, making your body relax and your cheeks flush.
Sophia’s mom caught the way your shoulders visibly softened and smiled knowingly. “You really adore her, don’t you?”
You blinked, a little startled by the question but nodded shyly.
Her dad chuckled from across the room,
“Yeah, it’s written all over your face. And the way she knows exactly where to touch to make you melt? That’s just too cute.”
Sophia grinned, squeezing your hand.
“She’s a bit like a shark — sharp but soft when she wants to be.”
Later, back with the Katseye members, you found yourself the center of gentle teasing again.
Manon smirked, “You know, every time Sophia scratches your neck or presses kisses behind your ear, you go all pink and goofy. It’s adorable.”
Lara laughed, “Yeah, you don’t even try to hide it. We’re just waiting for the day you totally melt and start drooling or something.”
You tilted your head, genuinely confused.
“Melt? Drooling? What do you mean?”
Yoonchae smiled patiently, “It means you get super relaxed and happy. Like, you can’t help but show how much you love her.”
You frowned thoughtfully,
“Oh… I thought it meant something was wrong with me.”
Megan nudged you gently.
“No way. It’s good. It means you trust her. That you’re comfortable.”
Sophia, leaning close, whispered in your ear, “That’s right. I know exactly how to make you feel safe and loved. And you don’t have to hide any of it.”
You smiled, heart swelling, finally understanding a little more of the teasing and warmth surrounding you.
~
The Katseye members were gathered for a livestream, chatting with fans and answering questions between song snippets and playful challenges. You and Sophia sat close together on the couch, the shark blanket draped over your legs as usual.
Midway through the stream, Sophia leaned over with a sly smile and casually scratched behind your neck, that familiar spot that always made your body melt a little. Your face immediately warmed, and you blinked, caught off guard but too cozy to pull away.
“Hey, what was that for?” you asked softly, a bit flustered but smiling.
Sophia’s eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Just reminding you who’s boss, ” she teased, winking at the camera.
The chat exploded:
“OMG they’re so cute!”
“Did you see them blush? 💕”
“Sophia knows exactly where to touch them 😍”
“Shark blanket + blushing = perfection”
“Why does Y/N look like they just melted??”
“I need a relationship like this”
Manon leaned in and whispered teasingly,
“Looks like someone’s totally whipped.”
You furrowed your brows, a little puzzled but honest: “Whipped? I’m not sure what that means exactly…”
Lara grinned,
“It means you’re head over heels. It’s obvious to everyone.”
You smiled shyly, looking back at Sophia.
“I’m just… really happy. And she makes me feel safe.”
Sophia wrapped her arm around you, pressing a quick kiss behind your ear, that same spot that made your knees weak.
“See? Melting again,” she whispered.
The chat was full of heart emojis and supportive comments, loving the genuine affection on display.
Despite your occasional confusion about teasing and social cues, moments like these made you feel seen, loved, and completely at ease with Sophia, and that was what mattered most.
During another livestream, Sophia was leaning close, whispering something in your ear and giving you a quick scratch behind your neck, your instant “melt” trigger.
The chat exploded with teasing comments:
Fan: “Looks like someone’s totally whipped!”
Fan: “You’re swimming in deep waters now, sharkie!”
Fan: “Better watch out or Sophia’s gonna put you in a shark cage!”
You blinked, tilting your head.
“Wait… shark cage? Are you saying Sophia will put me somewhere locked up with sharks? That sounds dangerous.”
Manon laughed,
“No, no! It’s just a joke, like being really caught up in someone.”
“It’s a figure of speech. Sometimes people use wild animal things to mean intense feelings.”
You nodded slowly, still trying to process it.
“Okay... So ‘whipped’ means very into someone, and ‘shark cage’ means… not literally a cage with sharks?”
Sophia giggled and squeezed your hand.
“Exactly. You’re not going anywhere. Just stuck with me.”
You smiled, feeling both relieved and amused.
Later, Sophia whispered teasingly, “You’re the only person I know who asks if a ‘shark cage’ is a real cage.”
You laughed, “I just want to be sure. I don’t want to be eaten.”
Lara grinned, “You take everything so literally, it’s adorable. We love you.”
You shrugged with a shy smile.“I want to understand, that’s all.”
Sophia kissed your temple softly. “And I’ll keep explaining every weird joke, promise.”
The livestream was calm, just you sitting in your cozy shark-print hoodie, ready to talk about your autism journey. Fans had been asking for a while, and you finally felt ready to share more.
Fan: “Can you tell us what it was like growing up and how you got diagnosed?”
You took a deep breath.
“It wasn’t easy. I didn’t really have a great childhood. My parents… they kind of neglected me. I wasn’t always understood or cared for the way I needed.”
Your voice was steady, but the words carried weight you hadn’t spoken out loud much before. You explained how the diagnosis came late, and how it helped you understand yourself better, but it didn’t erase the past.
The chat filled with supportive messages, but a few moments later, Sophia and the rest of Katseye sent you a flurry of messages, worried and confused. They hadn’t known about the neglect or the struggles you’d kept private.
Later, Sophia found you backstage, her eyes soft but concerned.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked gently.
“We had no idea it was so hard.”
You blinked, confused. “I thought you knew… Or maybe I just never talked about it. It’s not something I like to bring up.”
Manon joined, trying to find the right words. “We’re just… sad because we want to protect you. And if we don’t know, we can’t.”
You shook your head slowly, “I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just didn’t think about it that way. It’s just… how things were.”
Sophia took your hand. “You’re safe now. We’re your family.” You looked at her, feeling the warmth of her words settle in.
“I’m sorry for not sharing,” you whispered.
“But thank you for being here.”
Lara smiled gently. “We’re here. Always.”
~
The dinner is supposed to be warm and celebratory, all the KATSEYE members and their parents, sharing a long table under soft lighting. Laughter bounces between conversations.
You didn’t expect them to show up.
They hadn’t RSVP’d. They never come to things like this.
Your stomach twists as you watch your parents slip into the room like they belong there. For the first twenty minutes, they play the part, polite smiles, nods to the others. But you know the rhythm of their cruelty. It’s always subtle at first.
A quiet dig about how you “still need someone to tell you where to be.”
A sarcastic laugh when you stumble over a menu choice.
A whispered comment that you’re “good at pretending to be normal.”
You keep your head down, hands in your lap, forcing yourself to breathe. Sophia notices, she always notices, and her hand brushes yours under the table. You pull away before you even think about it.
Later, during a lull in conversation, they corner you by the dessert table.
“Still playing the victim, huh?” one of them murmurs, voice low enough that no one else should hear.
Their hand lands on your wrist, too tight, and you freeze.
But someone does hear.
Daniela’s father, who had been reaching for coffee, turns and sees everything.
“Hey. Let go.” His voice is firm, sharp.
The grip on your wrist tightens once, as if in defiance, before releasing.
It’s too late, Sophia is already there, and the others are turning, voices rising.
“What is wrong with you?”
“You don’t talk to them like that.”
“She’s your child.”
“She’s not—” one of your parents starts, but they’re cut off by another parent’s outrage. The room is no longer warm, it’s boiling with anger.
You can’t follow the words anymore. Your heart is hammering too loud. The air feels heavy, and you shrink back, trying to make yourself small. Sophia’s hand reaches for yours, gentle, slow, but when her fingers graze your skin, you flinch like it burns.
“Y/N—” she says, voice breaking, but you’re already stepping back.
You slip between chairs, past startled guests, out the side door into the cold night air.
Sophia catches up outside, but when she reaches for you again, you stumble away, shaking your head violently. You can’t look at her. You can’t let her see the cracks.
She stops, watching you retreat into the dark, her hands trembling at her sides.
It’s past midnight when she finds you.
Not in your room. Not in the dorm’s living room.
The rooftop is her last guess.
You’re there, pressed into the farthest corner like you’re trying to disappear into the concrete. Your shark blanket is clutched tight, but you’re shaking anyway.
She stops when she sees your face.
The dried tear streaks. The way your eyes aren’t really here. “Y/N— ”
You flinch before she even takes a step.
Her chest caves in. She drops her voice to a whisper. “It’s me.”
You look at her like you’re trying to place a stranger.
Then your gaze falls away.
She tries again, softer. “They can’t hurt you here.”
A short, sharp breath escapes you, not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. “They already did.”
She swallows hard. “I’m so sorry.”
The words bounce right off you. You curl tighter into yourself.
She takes a step forward, and you scramble back like the air burned you.
Her hand hangs midair, frozen.
“…Okay,” she whispers. “No touching. I get it.”
Your voice is hoarse when you finally speak. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Her chest tightens. “I’m not leaving you like this.”
“Then you’ll be here a long time.”
You pull the blanket over your head and shut her out completely.
And for the first time since she’s known you, she doesn’t know if she’s allowed to stay.
The next morning. The dorm is too quiet.
No music from the kitchen. No chatter from the living room. Even the coffee machine sounds muted.
Sophia hasn’t slept. She’s been on the couch since last night, still in the clothes she wore to the dinner, eyes fixed on the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall.
No one’s gone in.
When the sun climbs higher, Lara knocks gently.
“Y/N? You should eat something. ”
No answer.
Daniela tries next, sitting outside the door with a bowl of fruit, her voice gentle but steady.
“We can just sit together. You don’t have to talk.”
Nothing. Not even footsteps.
By noon, Megan is pacing. Manon is whispering to Yoonchae in the kitchen about calling the manager.
Sophia finally moves. She takes the bowl from Daniela and kneels by your door. “Y/N… it’s me.”
Silence.
She rests her forehead against the wood.
“They were wrong. About everything. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
A sound comes from inside. A faint rustle, maybe you shifting under your blanket.
She almost reaches for the handle… but then she remembers the way you flinched last night.
Her hand drops.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll wait.”
She leaves the bowl outside and walks away, even though every step feels wrong.
Inside your room, You’re curled up on the floor by the bed, not in it.
The shark blanket is wrapped so tightly around you it’s hard to breathe, but it’s the only thing keeping you from unraveling.
You can hear them moving outside, hear Sophia’s voice through the door.
But your body still feels like it’s bracing for impact.
Like if you let anyone in, they’ll find the crack and make it worse.
So you stay silent.
Because silence, at least, feels safe.
It’s late. The others think you’ve gone to bed. You’re curled up on the couch in the dark, knees tucked to your chest under your shark blanket. You can still hear echoes of that dinner, the grip on your wrist, the tone in their voice, playing on repeat.
The door clicks.
Sophia steps inside.
You don’t look at her. You can’t.
“Y/N,” she says softly. No answer. She tries again, kneeling in front of you. “You’ve barely looked at me in days. You flinch when I move too close. Did I… do something?”
The guilt in her voice makes something twist in your chest. You shake your head, but you can’t find the words.
“That night,” she says, “I saw your face when they touched you. And I—” Her voice breaks.
“I should’ve been faster. I should’ve—”
“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, but it’s so quiet you’re not sure she hears it.
Her hands hover in the air, like she wants to touch you but is scared you’ll pull away again.
“Do you have any idea what it did to me? Watching you leave like I wasn’t safe?”
That gets you. Your eyes snap to hers, red-rimmed, wet.
“I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I just— I can’t… when it’s like that, I can’t breathe, I can’t move—”
Sophia exhales shakily. “Then let us breathe with you. Don’t shut me out, Y/N. Please. You don’t have to go through it alone. Not anymore.”
You don’t realize you’re crying until her thumb brushes away a tear. You flinch out of reflex, but she doesn’t pull back, she waits.
Slowly, painfully, you let yourself lean forward until your forehead rests against her shoulder.
Her arms close around you, careful, like she’s holding something fragile but worth protecting.
From the hallway, you hear soft footsteps.
The rest of KATSEYE is there, Daniela, Lara, Manon, Yoonchae, Megan, each one sitting down near you without a word.
Close enough to be there. Far enough to give you space.
For the first time in days, the silence doesn’t feel like a prison.
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