It was soft.
It was gentle.
It was all the tension, the jealousy, the heat, the confusion, the way we fought and danced and tried not to fall for each other crashing all at once...
Minho's hands rested lightly at my waist, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to hold on. Mine curled into the front of his hoodie, gently gripping it like an anchor. The stair rail dug into my back, but I didn't care. The air was too thick. My head was too light.
When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine. Our breaths were shallow and mingled in the space between us.
"You..." I whispered, eyes searching his. "You really like me?"
His gaze didn't falter. "I really do."
The words were simple, but they landed like gravity. I felt them in my ribs.
I swallowed, heart thudding so loud I thought he might hear it.
And then— The front door clicked.
We sprang apart like we'd been caught setting fire to the universe. My heel caught on the step and I nearly stumbled backwards.
Twan's voice boomed through the dorm. "Yo! I brought snacks! Ryan said he wanted shrimp chips but I got the extra spicy ones instead, hope that's cool—"
Minho stepped back, exhaling hard, dragging a hand through his hair like none of this had just happened. "Later," he muttered.
He turned and headed toward the kitchen. Just as Travis poked his head around the corner, eyes narrowing slightly. He said nothing, but his brow lifted in suspicion. I pretended not to see it as I practically floated up the stairs cheeks burning, brain melting.
What just happened!?
Few days later...
The weirdest part was that everything felt normal. Too normal. No awkward tension. No blushing. No weird flinches when our hands almost brushed. Minho and I just... carried on. Ate breakfast. Walked to school. Sat across from each other in the common room like two people who definitely hadn't kissed each other three nights ago.
I wasn't sure whether to be impressed or hurt. I kept replaying it, his hands on my waist, the way he'd looked at me after. The way he said, "I really do," like it cost him something to say it out loud. Now it was like it didn't happen. And that messed with me more than anything.
Minho was calm. Cool. Collected. Polite. He didn't avoid me—but he didn't seek me out, either. And even though my heart kept trying to convince me that kiss meant something, my head started wondering if maybe I imagined it all.
Worse, maybe I was the only one who thought it meant something.
...
Today is Friday. James cornered me after gym with a cold towel and a smug grin. "You look like you just ran a marathon," he said, pressing the towel to my neck. "Cute."
"Thanks...?"
He leaned closer. "You know, we could chill after this. I found this new series in netflix. Very relaxing. Very—"
"James." I said, cutting him off.
He blinked.
I raised an eyebrow. "You know I can see you laying the groundwork for a flirt, right?"
"...Yeah. Thought I'd try anyway."
I couldn't help but laugh. And from across the gym, I saw Minho toss a basketball a little harder than necessary.
...
It's Saturday morning and the air in the dorm kitchen smelled like burnt fluffy pancakes and misplaced intentions. Twan was wearing an apron that said "Kiss the Cook" and was waving a spatula dangerously close to my face.
"I made you breakfast," he said proudly.
I peered into the pan. "You mean... charcoal?"
"Hey, toast is toast."
"You tried," I said, biting back a smile.
Twan leaned one elbow on the counter. "What do I get for effort?"
"You get my eternal gratitude."
Twan winked. "Close enough."
I laughed. But I also noticed Minho walking by the hallway, scrolling through his phone.
...
Now Sunday. Travis offered to help me study math again. Except this time, he did it sitting a little too close.
"So," he said, eyes on the page but voice low, "are you and Josh a thing or what?"
My hand froze on my pencil. "What?"
"You've been getting asked that a lot but no clear answers" he said simply. "I figured I'd go straight to the source."
I stared at him. "We're friends."
"Right."
I waited, but he didn't ask anything else. He just returned to writing in his notebook. But his knee stayed pressed against mine a little longer than it needed to.
...
Later That Night. Ryan passed me a mug of warm honey-lemon water while I was curled up on the couch reading.
"I read somewhere that you sleep better with this," he said casually.
I accepted it with a quiet, "Thanks."
He didn't say much more, just sat next to me, scrolling on his phone, letting the moment hang. Not too much. Not too little. It was subtle. Gentle. Safe. And it made me want to scream. Because they were all trying. And Minho? He was pulling further away.
Ryan's POV
I noticed it the second Minho walked into the room that morning. Elise was wearing his hoodie. Her hair was pulled back lazily, sleeves covering her hands, and she looked like a sleep-deprived anime heroine. And Minho?
He walked right past her. Said nothing. Sat at the kitchen counter and poured cereal like his world wasn't on fire. But I knew better.
I watched James make her laugh. Watched Twan lean on the wall near her like he was in a coming-of-age movie. Watched Travis pull his classic "we're just studying" act. They weren't being subtle anymore. And Minho kept his distance. Too much of it.
I knew Minho well. I'd seen him pissed. Seen him protective. But this was different. He was... scared. Not of Elise. But of what liking her could mean.
We were five guys. Living with one girl. All of us like her, whether we said it or not. Some of us acted on it. Some of us didn't.
I liked her, too. But I knew Minho had it worse. And maybe... that's why I started pulling back myself. Admiring her from afar, in my own quiet corner of this very complicated universe.
Because out of all of us, Minho was the one who'd never say it unless he meant it. The one who would push her away before he ever risked hurting her.
And that's how I knew he meant it the most...