u should make a yoonchae x 7th reader where reader is about the same age both are so oblivious to each other it makes 0t5 katseye wan to pull their hair out
Oblivious?
- summary : yoonch and you being so oblivious and katz is gonna crash out so they spy on u two.
- warnings : yoonchae x f!reader, 7th member r, reader is 17, fluff, cute stuff, r and yoonch being cuties, n idk.
the whole katseye dorm had one shared braincell that week and it was dedicated to exactly one thought : how are y/n and yoonchae THIS dumb.
like it was reaching emergency levels.
because yoonchae ( who is 17 ) and y/n ( also 17, equally clueless ) moved around each other like two sims with low autonomy like orbiting, staring, blushing, but never connecting the final dot.
it started small. yoonchae sitting next to y/n on the couch even when the entire rest of the sofa was empty. y/n handing yoonchae her water bottle without being asked. both of them giggling at absolutely nothing like they had their own secret language.
the rest of the girls noticed immediately.
dani looked at them, dead inside. “they’re gonna give me wrinkles.”
manon whispered, “they don’t even realize they like each other… this is worse than sophia thinking the oven was broken when she forgot to turn it on.”
sophia whacked her arm. “LET IT GO.”
but the final straw came on a quiet saturday, when y/n and yoonchae were on the floor building lego like two children, and lara passed by to witness something so painfully innocent it made her want to scream.
yoonchae picked up a lego piece, handed it to y/n, and softly said, “i thought of you when i found this one.”
it was literally just a blue brick.
y/n took it like it was a diamond ring. “oh… thanks… that’s… really nice.”
they stared at each other for a full five seconds. blushing. smiling. doing nothing. lara walked straight into sophia’s room and said, “we need an intervention.”
sophia blinked. “what happened now?”
“they flirted over a lego brick.”
sophia looked horrified. “oh my god.”
later that evening, all five members were stuffed behind the hallway wall like spies, trying to watch the two idiots in the kitchen.
y/n was trying to reach a mug on the top shelf. yoonchae stood behind her, hands tentatively hovering like she wanted to help but was too shy to actually touch her.
“i can get it for you,” yoonchae said, voice soft.
“no it’s okay,” y/n said, immediately struggling but refusing to admit defeat, “i’m tall enough.”
she was absolutely not tall enough.
yoonchae reached over her anyway and grabbed the mug in two seconds. y/n froze under her arm like it was the most intimate act known to humankind.
yoonchae handed it to her with the shyest smile ever. “here.”
and y/n whispered, “thank you…” like yoonchae had saved her life.
from the hallway, dani slapped a hand over her mouth. “i can’t do this. i can’t watch this anymore.”
megan shook her head slowly. “this is torture. i feel physically ill.”
lara muttered, “they’re gonna be eighty and still calling each other ‘special friends’.”
even sophia, who usually had the patience of a saint, whispered, “if they don’t confess soon i’m locking them in a room.”
manon nodded. “seconded.”
meanwhile, back in the kitchen, yoonchae and y/n were still standing awkwardly close.
yoonchae finally worked up the courage. “um… do you… maybe wanna go get ice cream later? like… with me?”
y/n blinked, heart stopping. “like… together?”
yoonchae nodded. “yeah… i mean… i think it’d be fun if it was just us…” y/n’s face went red in 0.01 seconds. “o-oh. yeah. i’d like that…”
soft smiling. awkward shifting… more smiling.
from the hallway, the girls collectively collapsed like they’d just run a marathon.
“FINALLY,” sophia whispered, clutching her chest.
dani fanned herself. “i aged ten years.”
megan groaned into her hands. “i hate this. i love them but i hate this.”
lara quietly wiped a tear. “my babies… they’re growing…”
yoonchae and y/n walked past them holding hands, too lost in their shy little bubble to even notice everyone smashed against the wall like idiots.
and the whole group just watched them go, exhausted but relieved. manon sighed. “do you think they know they’re basically dating now?”
sophia shook her head. “no. absolutely not.”
dani groaned. “we’re never getting a break.”
the moment y/n and yoonchae left the dorm hand-in-hand, the rest of katseye moved like a military operation. sophia grabbed her jacket. dani took her phone. manon was already tying her shoelaces like she had trained for this exact mission. megan shoved a cap on lara’s head so she looked less recognizable.
they weren’t even being subtle about it.
“i refuse,” sophia whispered as she tiptoed down the hall, “to let those two go on a first date alone. they’ll probably think they’re on a school project outing.”
dani snorted into her sleeve. “they’re gonna share ice cream and be like, ‘wow, friendship is crazy.’”
megan whispered, “no. i’m done. i’m done being their babysitter. but i’m also coming. let’s go.”
down the street, y/n and yoonchae were walking like two awkward penguins—a little too close, a little too stiff, hands brushing every few steps like neither of them knew what to do with their limbs.
yoonchae saw a dog and got excited. y/n saw yoonchae get excited and got even more excited.
none of this was romantic in their heads but somehow unbelievably romantic at the same time.
behind them, the rest of katseye shuffled into a bush like it was part of the plan.
literally a whole bush. six girls stuffed together, crouched, breathing too loud.
megan whispered, “i can see them. oh my god. yoonchae is trying so hard to flirt, she looks like she’s buffering.”
dani nearly choked on her own laughter. “LOOK. Y/N IS HOLDING THE ICE CREAM LIKE IT’S A PROPOSAL.”
sophia got emotional way too fast. “they’re so cute… but they’re so obvious… i want to squeeze them.”
y/n took a bite of her ice cream and immediately handed it to yoonchae with a quiet “try it,” like she’d just given her the keys to her heart.
yoonchae tasted it, blushed, then handed hers back like it was a sacred ritual.
inside the bush, manon slapped sophia’s arm. “THEY JUST INDIRECT KISSED.”
lara gasped. “THIS IS BIG. THIS IS HISTORY.”
megan shoved them both. “shut up they’re gonna hear us—”
the bush rustled violently.
y/n paused mid-lick. “did you… hear something?”
yoonchae looked around, wide-eyed. “maybe it’s a cat?”
in the bush, five fully grown girls froze.
dani mouthed, you’re the cat.
megan stomped on her foot.
y/n shrugged it off and kept walking. yoonchae followed, still holding hands like she didn’t realize it. the bush squad exhaled like they had survived war.
they followed the couple to a small park. the sun was setting. the lights were warm. it was legitimately the perfect romantic moment.
y/n sat on the swings, gently pushing her feet. yoonchae took the one next to her, swaying like she couldn’t sit still.
they were talking so softly that the spying crew had to lean out from behind a tree to hear anything.
“i had a really nice time,” yoonchae said, voice tiny. y/n smiled at her like she’d just been handed happiness. “i… did too. a lot.”
yoonchae kicked her feet once, nervous. “we should do this again.”
“i want to,” y/n said.
the girls behind the tree instantly turned feral.
lara actually silently punched the air. sophia covered her mouth so she wouldn’t squeal. dani looked like she was going to pass out. manon wiped a tear. megan leaned her head against the trunk like she was praying.
and then it happened.
yoonchae reached out and gently linked their fingers together again.
just simple one.
y/n immediately turned bright red but didn’t pull away—she squeezed back.
the reaction behind the tree was not simple, soft, or honest. the tree literally shook from how hard they all silently screamed at the same time.
yoonchae looked up. “did the tree just… move?”
y/n blinked. “maybe… wind?”
there was zero wind.
but somehow they didn’t question it enough to expose the entire adult team spying on their date.
the two walked home still holding hands, shoulders brushing.
the moment they disappeared around the corner, the entire group behind the tree collapsed onto the grass in dramatic silence.
megan whisper-yelled, “THAT WAS THE MOST FRUSTRATINGLY WHOLESOME DATE I’VE EVER SEEN.”
sophia sighed dramatically. “i’m so proud… but also so tired…”
lara nodded. “they’re gonna kill us with how slow they are.”
dani groaned, “it’s never gonna be easy with them, is it?”
manon lay flat on her back. “unfortunately no.”
a/n : im gonna disappear for 2 weeks ( maybe more ) bcz of exams, so here u go 😋
wherein you thought it'd be a great idea to go for a coffee amidst your writer's block because of your college essay, when the universe played a trick on you causing your order to accidentally be swapped with another person's order—Yoonchae.
Pairings: Guitarist Yoonchae x Writer Female Reader
Warnings: none, pure fluff, first date college fic, established relationship, slight angst if you squint
AN: not proofread but i will. I lovee yoonchae in this pic, also I've been wanting to write for yoonchae too! :> feel free to have any request hehe bear w me guys I kinda don't know how college works in america
you threw your head back against your couch, groaning at yourself. you've been immersed in your college essay for the past three hours.
three whole hours.
three whole hours, and your college essay still sat unfinished—no title, no conclusion. Just a blinking cursor at the end of a paragraph that felt like it was going nowhere.
the screen cast a dull glow against your face, reflecting faintly on your glasses as you stared at the document.
It was supposed to be about you.
and somehow, that made it harder.
your eyes skimmed over what you’d already written—your journey, grades, achievements, competitions, stories you’ve told well enough for people to believe in you.
you knew how to write about everything you’ve done.
just not who you were.
a deep exhale left you as you leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, fingers loosely clasped together.
you’ve never really believed you could be loved without something to offer.
ever since you were a kid, people called you precocious. smart. promising.
you know, words that sounded nice. words that stayed with you. and you used to think that it fueled you.
sophomore year, you've given it your all—competitions, sports—but you've never really known who you were underneath those things. especially at times when you weren't the best. the compliments vanished, turning into, 'what happened?'
and you didn't know. because you've never known yourself in the first place. you've never known what you like, what you love, because you've always followed the pattern of being perfect. you didn't know what you are without everything. you didn't know what your life was without all those titles.
and you still don't. you still don't know who were you—without all of this.
you wonder if you ever will.
your gaze flickered back to the screen.
the cursor blinked.
waiting.
you exhaled sharply, reaching forward to save the document before snapping your laptop shut a little harder than necessary, then checking the screen if it cracked—you can't afford to lose it right now, breathing a sigh of relief when it didn't.
you stand up, stretching out a body that’s been stuck in one position for the past three hours. your eyes drift to the window. rain tapped steadily against the pavement outside. cars passed in blurred streaks, headlights reflecting off wet asphalt, people hurrying under umbrellas like the world hadn’t paused just because you felt stuck. everything was happening while you stay still and stuck inside your own head.
that's why you can't really stop, can you?
"god, i need coffee." you pinch the bridge of your nose before grabbing your jacket, glancing at yourself in the vanity mirror. a beige tank top, loose pants, round glasses, and a messy bun that was… well, messy. hey, it's still a bun. you slip on your jacket, grab your wallet and an umbrella, and decide to just walk to the coffee shop.
after five minutes, you reach it, shaking off your umbrella before stepping inside. the coffee shop is buzzing with people, warm light spilled from inside, the low hum of conversations mixing with the sharp hiss of the espresso machine. the smell of coffee hit you instantly. it was rich, comforting, almost enough to settle your thoughts.
almost.
fuck, there's so many people, you think. whatever. you're here anyway.
the café is big, right in the middle of the city, so of course it’s packed on a rainy day.
you let out a sigh before shaking off the water from your umbrella, putting it on the rack beside the door before waiting in line.
when it's your turn, you're quick with your usual.
"hi, one iced caramel macchiato, less ice, and can you use almond milk? venti, for y/n. thanks."
you smile at the cashier before paying through Apple Pay.
you find a seat by the window, closing your jacket as the drops of water on you was met with the cold ac. you stare outside, the essay still heavy in your mind before your fingers already reached for your phone.
scrolling.
mindless.
like something might suddenly appear and fix everything.
something.
I need something.
your eyes drifted to the rain outside.
or someone.
you scroll through your phone mindlessly, hoping for something—anything—to spark the motivation to finish your essay, when you hear your name being called along with others'. they seem to have a lot of staff to call a lot of people at the same damn time.
"Jerome?"
"Khloe?"
"Y/n?"
"Yoonchae?"
"And, Percy?"
you stand up, but there are like bazillion people grabbing their drinks, so you wait. when the crowd clears, only one cup is left—iced caramel.
you take it and sit back down with a small huff.
your eyes land on the name written on the cup—Yoonchae?
"is my name that bad to be misspelled like this—"
"hi."
your head snaps up.
a girl is standing beside you—blonde hair, a jersey under a jacket, oversized pants, slightly awkward posture like she’s not sure if she’s in the right place.
"hi?" you ask, confused.
"i think you got my drink," she says with a timid smile.
"oh, you're Yoonchae?" you ask, showing her the cup.
"yes."
her voice is soft. direct.
"you're y/n?" she places the cup with your name on it gently on your table.
"yeah, thank you," you nod, handing her the coffee. your fingers brush for a second longer than necessary.
there was a brief silence when you thought she'd leave.
"can i sit here? are you with someone? it's just really crowded. no more seats," she asks, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
you look back up at her, "oh no, yeah, for sure. i'm not with anyone," you nod.
god, not right now. you can't be distracted right now.
there was silence before she spoke.
"so uhm. what are you?"
you look at her, blinking. your mouth opens, closes, then you tilt your head slightly.
"what… am i?" you repeat slowly.
"oh, sorry," she chuckles nervously. "like uhm, are you a student?"
"oh." you nod as it clicks. "yeah. just graduated. i'm 19."
"i'm 18," she replies softly, sipping her drink.
"that's nice," you say, already drifting back to your phone, feeling a bit awkward.
"i like your keychain," she adds, pointing at the guitar keychain hanging from your jacket's pocket.
"do you play guitar?"
"oh, no. i just thought it's cute and super cool. do you want to look at it?" you shut your phone off to unhook it, offering it to her. "i mean it's kinda funny that i don't, but i love people that do.
"i play guitar," she says, taking the keychain from your hand, your fingers brushing that made you so nervous.
oh.
“you do?” you look up, asking in awe. “like electric or acoustic?”
“both.”
“oh shit. that’s so cool.”
“yeah. i’m in a band. we play sometimes,” she says, handing the keychain back to you.
of course she is.
you shake your head. “you can keep it. i have another one at home.”
she plays guitar? that pretty? it’s pretty much impossible for this girl to have no boyfriend—
“are you sure?” she asks with a small smile.
“yeah, definitely,” you nod, chuckling. “it’ll match you more than me anyway."
“thank you.”
“mhm.. you’re very pretty," you blurted out with a small smile before you realized it, then your smile dropped.
"wait no, well, i mean—like, yeah. you are,” you stumble through the compliment, smiling nervously.
she smiles, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes your chest feel weird. her expression is so soft you almost forget how to breathe. she toys with the keychain like a kid being offered candy but too shy to fully accept it.
“thank you, y/n.”
“yeah—well, you must have a boyfriend then?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
shit.
“boyfriend..?” she repeats, blinking.
“i-i mean, not to invade or anything, it’s just— you’re very pretty to like… not have any— not that I’m thinking otherwise—” you ramble.
“i like girls.”
oh.
what.
you girl kisser.
“what?” you say, eyes widening, mouth slightly open.
“yeah,” she says simply. then, a little quieter, “and… uhm, I was thinking if we could have each other’s numbers… if that’s okay.”
she hooks the keychain onto her jeans, looking back up at you a shy smile plastered on her face.
uhh.
“yeah. absolutely.”
you exchange numbers, your fingers slightly clumsy as you type. after that, she tells you she has rehearsals for her band’s performance on Friday and needs to go. she bids you goodbye, then—unexpectedly—she pats your head.
and your brain short-circuits.
someone asked you out. someone asked for your number. and she’s exactly your type. is this a dream or are we being schizophrenic?
as soon as you get home, you bury yourself under your covers, staring at the ceiling like it’s personally attacked you.
“oh my god, i can’t be distracted right now. i need to finish my essay. why’d you come right now?” you groan into your sheets.
you rant to yourself for a good thirty minutes about how this will absolutely derail your focus and how absolutely gorgeous she is before finally getting up to make dinner.
while stirring your mac and cheese, your phone chimes—and you practically sprint to it.
hi
it's yoonchae.
are you free friday?
i forgot. it's tomorrow.
can you watch me play during out first date?
would you want that?
you smile before you can stop yourself. which is absolutely against your will.. absolutely..
hi, yes of course :)
just send the address
you better play good 🫣
after a minute, your phone chimes with another reply.
i play well.
i will pick you up tomorrow. send me your address.
“first date,” you mutter under your breath. “sophia, it’s my first date. like, i know i’m a hopeless romantic, but she’s like so pretty though, and she plays guitar you know like argh." you tell your best friend over the phone as you stir the pasta in your bowl.
“well, good luck with that." she chuckles. "and good luck with your essay. have you finished it yet? don’t you need to submit it by saturday?” she added, seemingly having more care about that.
fuck.
“yeah, i know. i’m almost finished though. i just… don’t worry.” you try to sound convincing.
well, i guess first date isn’t as big as college, right?
the next day, you try your best to finish the conclusion, but your brain feels completely fried. you keep typing, deleting, rewriting—words collapsing into each other until you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore.
"oh my god why am i so brain dead right now?" you huff, " what time is it?"
before you realize it, you only have an hour left to get ready before Yoonchae picks you up.
“oh shit, it's 5 already?!” you rush to the shower, washing up quickly, but thoroughly before doing your makeup the way you usually do. you pick an outfit that doesn’t scream stress, or that you’ve been fighting your own brain for the past 48 hours and is seemingly more stressed than you've been when you were tasked to define yourself in three words.
a light yellow colored long sleeve that hugs your curves just right and a long white skirt that compliments the color of your top.
at 6:05, there’s a knock on your door.
you grab your purse, slip on loafers with a slight platform so you don’t feel too small beside her, then hurry downstairs. you take a breath, fix yourself one last time, and open the door.
she’s wearing glasses now—thin frames that suit her face too well—a tank top under a maroon leather jacket, and trousers that fit her just right.
“wow, you look amazing,” she says as you step out.
“you look good, yoonchae. like, very,” you respond with a small smile trying not to stare too much before walking beside her down the steps, her subtly guiding you.
she leads you to a small café-bar about twelve minutes away. she pays for the Uber, and soon you’re there.
as soon as you arrive, she’s greeted by a few of her friends. she guides you to a seat that looks like it was already reserved, then leans down slightly, voice brushing your ear.
“i’ll play in two minutes. stay for me.”
"already?" you asked in a whisper-back.
"mhm. then we can go on with our date."
then she disappears into the crowd.
when she comes back, her jacket is gone. she’s on stage now, adjusting a black electric guitar with red straps. she tests the tuning, glancing at you briefly, then nods like a quiet signal a big smile on her face.
her band starts.
and right at that moment, it feels like everything else fades out.
they play Still Into You by Paramore, and for some reason, it feels like the whole room disappears. she looks so so effortless standing there, so sure of herself in a way that makes your thoughts go completely quiet.
you forget about your essay. you forget about expectations.
you fucking forget about everything except her.
after a few songs, she smiles, bows, and runs off stage—straight down toward you.
she was holding her jacket before sitting beside you with a huge smile on her face.
“am i good?”
“well, you do play well,” you tease her before wiping the sweat off her forehead with a tissue. “seriously, you’re amazing.”
“thank you,” she mutters before taking a sip of water.
“since when have you played guitar?” you ask as you look down at the menu.
“uhh, since i was 14,” she answers, shifting her chair a bit closer so she can look too even though she has her own, now sitting so close beside you.
“wow, fourteen? i wish i could’ve explored like that when i was fourteen.”
“why? what do you mean?” she asks, looking at you while you keep your eyes on the menu.
“i mean… i was taking care of my brother back then. uhm.. he had leukemia. and i was also a scholar at this private school so i practically had to school home, school home,” you say quietly.
“oh. well, it’s never too late. you can explore now. life doesn’t move that fast.”
“it does,” you mutter, swallowing.
you glance at her. “you know, he used to say he wanted to learn guitar too. play songs for us."
“i can teach him,” she says softly, a small smile forming as she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“mhm,” you look into her eyes. “i wish you could.”
“what do you mean?”
you inhale deeply before letting it out slowly. your voice shakes slightly. “well… he didn’t survive,” you said quietly.
“and I was at a competition when he died.”
Silence.
“I told myself I’d never mess up again after that and i forced myself to just go do everything. that I can't stop because if I do, I'll feel everything like that again.” you look back at her.
she’s already looking at you—really looking at you. her expression softens, brows slightly drawn together, like she’s holding your words carefully.
“doesn’t mean you have to stop feeling,” she mutters.
“life is moving too fast, but you can slow it down.”
you let out a small, disbelieving chuckle. it’s not mockery, just exhaustion and confusion mixing together.
“how so?”
“by living. by feeling. by being. you don’t always have to go hard on yourself. yes, it was unfortunate… and i’m sorry,” she whispers.
her hand finds yours, squeezing it gently.
you don’t pull away.
“i just… i don’t know what i can do. i don’t know what i am without these big milestone things. and it made me lose my brother too. and because of that, every single thing i’ve worked hard on feels worthless. they don’t see me as the same person i don’t even know anymore.” you explain through with a shaky voice.
“you don’t always have to know what’s gonna happen,” she says softly. “you don’t always know what’s coming. but like in a story… you write it and you go on. but in your story of life, you don’t skip to the end, and you don’t restart. you talk like, like you’re trying to define something that’s still becoming.”
“you have a way with words,” you whisper, looking into her brown eyes.
god. is this still a distraction?
“i just understand,” she says simply. “you’re you. and it’s your life. you don’t need people to like you only for what you do or define you for what you didn't and could've done. you just live… and people will love you for who you are. just like i would do.”
“we’ve barely known each other, and it's our first date." you roll your eyes weakly, sniffling.
“well, i’d love to know you—and love you more.”
the night that followed was the best you’ve ever had.
the way she comforted you—gently, without pushing—felt unfamiliar in a way that didn’t scare you. she made you laugh until your stomach hurt. made you cry, not because of achievements or pressure, but because someone finally saw you. she made everything feel softer, like the storm inside your head had finally slowed down.
you didn’t know what this was.
and maybe that was the point.
you realized that you weren't fully honest with yourself. you weren't always sure, weren't always confident, didn’t always know where your story was heading.
you kept trying to force yourself into a title—something clean, something final. but a title is supposed to tell people what a story is about.
yours wasn’t finished yet.
so you realized that you had to stop defining yourself by being perfect or good… because you still had more to become.
that’s why,
Some Stories Don’t Need Titles Yet. — Y/n L/n
hi :)
figured i'd let u read my essay
you made me realize a lot of things tonight, like a lot
and I don't want it to be the last night that i would.
second date? :)
you closed your phone for a minute staring at the ceiling before it chimed again, "she's still awake?"
it’s beautiful. just like you.
and you tell me i have a way with words when you write so well.
i guess i can take some credit.
second date it is. 🫡
yes, i woke up from your notification. but i will sleep now. good night 😴
the weeks flew by, and on your fifth date, yoonchae asked you to be her girlfriend. you couldn’t have been happier.
you got accepted into your dream university, with her by your side.
“hi,” you smile as she opens the door.
“i missed you. sorry i’ve been busy, the band’s getting bigger,” she says, pecking your lips before pulling you inside and guiding you to the couch.
“it’s fine. uni is killing me though,” you laugh, taking off your coat before sitting beside her.
she immediately kisses you again—deeper this time, like she’s been holding it back all day.
“i’ll update more, i promise,” she murmurs against your lips.
“it’s okay, chae,” you whisper back. “i know you’re busy. it’s okay. as long as you come home to me… and we’re together.”
“i love you so much, you know that?”
“i do,” you smile. “i love you. so damn much.”
you kiss her again.
she laughs into it, soft, a little breathless, before pulling away just slightly, her forehead still against yours.
“you’re really clingy,” she mumbles, smiling.
“you started it,” you whisper back.
“no i didn’t.”
“you literally did.”
she rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling as she reaches for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“come on,” she says.
“where?”
“i don’t know. somewhere.”
"my feet hurts. i walked here." you groaned at her.
you let her pull you up anyway.
"come on, you're lazy." she teased before grabbing her jacket, interlocking her hand with yours again.
the city outside is still alive, lights reflecting off wet pavement, the faint sound of music from somewhere down the street. it’s late, but it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. it just feels open.
you walk beside her without thinking too much about it.
for once, you don’t feel like you’re chasing anything.
you stop at a convenience store, and she insists on buying snacks even though you argue about it the whole time. “you’re literally broke,” you say in a laugh as you guys walked through the aisle.
“i have money,” she argues.
“for guitar strings, not snacks.”
“same thing.” she shrugged before grabbing a bag of chips.
you stare at her. she grins. well, you lose.
you end up sitting on the curb outside anyway, plastic bags between you, sharing random food like it’s a ritual neither of you talked about but both agreed on.
she leans her shoulder against yours.
“you’re quiet,” she says.
“i’m eating.”
"no, you're thinking. you’re always thinking.”
you hum. “not always.”
“liar.”
you bump her shoulder lightly.
she laughs, then steals a a chip from your bag like she didn’t just accuse you of anything.
and right there you've never felt more relieved than ever. because there's no pressure to turn yourself into something understandable—she already understands you without the need to define what anything is supposed to be.
just her beside you, annoyingly present.
you glance at her.
she’s looking at the street, humming something under her breath, swinging her foot slightly against the pavement like she has nowhere else to be but here.
just this.
the two of you.
you.
and maybe that’s enough.
because you used to think life had to be something already finished to matter, something polished, named, graded, understood.
with her you realized that, some things are allowed to stay unfinished, some just as is.
some stories are still being written while they’re being lived.
you don’t need to know what you are yet.
you just need to keep going.
and you think,
maybe that’s what people meant when they said “now.”
not something you explain.
just something you live in.
"you're thinking again." she looked at you, meeting your eyes that was stuck on her as your thoughts consumed you.
"becuase i have a brain." you chuckled but you leaned your head on against her shoulder.
"Yoonchae," you mutter in a low hum.
"hm?" she responds, wrapping her arms around you.
"i love you."
AN: guys should i do a part two, this is longer than i intended it to be but i loved the dynamic. it's kinda rushed too and I'm telling yall that i was smiling and all at myself as i wrote this, i feel schizophrenic.
