Tomi's POV
Exams were exactly one week away. And still, no word from Sasha. I missed her, a lot and I hated how she was ignoring me. I had given up trying to spam her phone with messages. I had called, texted, even sent her little "where are you??" notes on Instagram, and she had just… vanished. It was like the Sasha I knew, the loud, dramatic, quick to throw sarcasm around like confetti had been replaced with some ghost version of herself. And the crazy thing was, I didn't even know why. At first, I figured, fine. Maybe she needed space. But after two whole days of her not sleeping in the dorm, then three, then four? My mind was pulling scenarios out of thin air. Had I done something wrong? Did she find out something about me? Was this because of Ji-hoon? Or… was this about Min-Jae? It was frustrating really. If I knew what I did wrong, maybe I would have apologized and we'd have settled. I told myself I would stop spiraling. "Just focus on exams, Tomi. Focus. Sasha won't miss an exam no matter how dramatic she's being. You'll corner her then. Done." That became my little mantra. But the distraction came in a way I hadn't fully prepared for. I got a text message from Min-Jae, he was finally discharged and he told me he was going to ask Tae-ho to pick me up soon. I was really excited and anxious at the same time. I tried to pick out my best outfit and look good for Min-Jae. I immediately smiled at the thought. I eventually picked out a short pink smoked dress with short sleeve. I had long hair so it wasn't a problem, I just packed it in a tight bun and curled the front. I put on some lip gloss and wore low heel sandals. "are you going on a date "?? Yuri pitched in. She was definitely shocked because I've never worn such outfit. I've always preferred something comfortable like sweatpants and hoodie. I just had to dress up and look nice for him. Yuri winked at me and said good luck when she saw that I was lost in thought. I went to school that day and iwas looking forward to my meeting with Min-Jae. Tae-ho pulled up in his car after my afternoon class, waving like he always did, that mix of polite and cheerful. "Get in," he said. The whole ride, I tried to act normal, but my heart was thudding. Tae-ho must have noticed my anxiousness. "Calm down". I smiled and said thanks. It had been days of Instagram chats with Min-Jae, days of sweet, sometimes teasing conversations that I kept rereading like they were lyrics to my favorite song. But it was different, knowing I was about to see him in person again. Not in the hospital. Not in some passing crowd. But in his apartment. When we finally got there, I was really nervous to get in and kept fiddling with my fingers in the elevator. I noticed Tae-ho kept smiling all along. I didn't understand why anyways. Getting to Min-Jae's apartment, I felt happy and sad at the same time on seeing him. Happy because I could finally meet him in private without any inconveniences and sad because of his condition. He was trying to stand well with his crutches. "tomi". The way he called my name made me want to just run into his arms and cry but I couldn't . He could fall. Tae-ho cleared his throat and pulled me out of my thoughts. He had helped Min-Jae into his living room, but once I entered and greeted awkwardly, he clapped his hands and said, "Okay! I have a few errands. Tomi, please help him settle in, yeah?" And without even waiting for either of us to protest, he left. And then it was just me and Min-Jae. He was moving slowly to me on his crutches, stubbornly trying not to look like he was in pain. "help me to my room". "Your room?" I asked, setting my bag down and biting my lip. He nodded, giving me that soft half-smile that always did something weird to my chest. "This way." I walked beside him, close enough to help if he slipped, but far enough that I didn't want to seem overbearing. His apartment was neat, almost too neat, like someone else had come in and cleaned it up for him. But when we finally pushed into his bedroom, I froze. It was… very him. Minimalist, but warm. Dark walls, a big king-sized bed with neatly arranged gray sheets, a desk piled with books and scripts, little touches of personality here and there — photos, a vinyl record player in the corner. "Wow," I whispered without meaning to. "This is… not what I expected." He chuckled. "What did you expect? Posters of myself?" I laughed, covering my face. "Maybe." Helping him sit on the bed felt surreal. He sank down slowly, wincing just a little, and I immediately hovered. "Wait, are you okay? Do you want me to—" "I'm fine, Tomi." His voice was gentle, steady. "But… can you get me something comfortable to change into?" That's how I found myself standing in his walk-in closet, pulling open doors, suddenly hyper-aware that I was touching his clothes. I picked out a soft black sweatshirt and sweatpants, simple but cozy, and handed them to him, refusing to meet his eyes because I was shy and blushing like crazy. He smirked anyway. I could feel it. The air between us got heavier after that. I don't even know how it happened exactly. He was shifting on the bed, trying to reach for his crutches again, and I leaned too quickly to help and the next second, my balance slipped, and I toppled straight onto his lap. My breath caught. His did too. I scrambled to push myself up, not wanting to make him feel more pain because of his legs but his hands had already steadied me, one firm on my waist. "Tomi…" he said softly. Slowly, carefully, his face lowered toward mine. My brain was screaming don't overthink, don't ruin this, don't— but my body didn't listen. My eyes fluttered shut right as his lips brushed mine. It was sudden and I felt like I was floating. The kiss started gentle, just a press of lips, but then his hand slid from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me closer. I gasped slightly, and he used that moment to deepen the kiss, sucking lightly on my lower lip before tilting his head and brushing against my upper one too. My fingers somehow found their way into his hair . It was soft, thick, warm and I tugged without realizing. He groaned quietly and that sound melted me. His tongue slid against mine, slow but insistent, and everything else in the world fell away. For about ten minutes, it was just us, his lips moving against mine, his hand gripping my waist like he didn't want me to leave, my chest pressed against his as my hands threaded through his hair. It was dizzying. It was fire and comfort at the same time. And then, my phone went crazy. Buzzing, ringing, vibrating against my bag like it was possessed. I pulled away first, breathless, pressing my hand to my lips because they felt swollen, sensitive. "Sorry," I whispered. He shook his head, smiling faintly, his thumb brushing my jaw like he wanted to pull me back in. "Don't be." But I had to. It was my head of class, calling urgently. By the time I grabbed my bag, apologized a million times, and rushed out of his apartment, my lips were still tingling. On the bus back to school, I caught myself touching them again and again, replaying the kiss like a broken record. What just happened?