── ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ shy - l. haechan
it wasn’t supposed to lead to this, just the two of you, alone. but the night unraveled slowly.
it was just a casual gathering, just a few of you from the group project, drinks and takeout in someone’s apartment, the usual teasing and banter that always bubbled when haechan was around. loud laughs, music too low to matter, the way his eyes kept finding yours across the room and fingers brushing when you both reached for the same fry.
you didn’t think much of it when the others left. someone had to catch a ride, someone else had an early class. you lingered. so did he.
“so,” haechan says now, leaning against the kitchen counter, swirling the last inch of soda in a cup he hasn’t touched in twenty minutes. “you’re just gonna pretend you didn’t spend the whole night avoiding my eyes?”
you scoff, flustered. “i wasn’t avoiding—”
“uh-huh.” his mouth quirks up. “then why’d you blush every time i looked at you?”
he steps forward, slow, casual, like he’s not watching you panic beneath the surface. you back up without meaning to, until your shoulder bumps against the fridge. he smiles, as if he won something.
“you always get like this when it’s just us?” he asks, tilting his head. “or am i special?”
your heartbeat kicks up. “you’re ridiculous.”
“but you’re not walking away,” he says softly. “interesting.”
he takes another step. then another. until he’s close. so close you forget how to think. you open your mouth to reply, but he leans in again, not quite kissing you. just hovering. close enough to count his lashes, to feel his breath ghost over your lips.
“’cause if it’s shyness,” he whispers, voice dropping into something wicked and gentle, “i can fix that.”
his hand finds your waist, warm through the thin fabric of your shirt. his thumb slides just beneath the hem, slow and daring, testing what he can get away with.
“tell me to stop,” he murmurs. “or tell me what you actually want.”
