Bully for Love
Seon Y/N never meant to laugh at Kim Taehyung in class, but one small slip-up turned into a rivalry that shook her entire school life. Ever since that day, they've been sworn enemies, their every encounter a battlefield of sharp words...
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(Y/N's POV)
I woke up the next day, bright and early at 11 am. Okay, maybe not that early, but it was the weekend, and I was allowed to oversleep. Still, I couldn't shake the sense of urgency about my "mission." I needed to find that recorder. I needed a plan.
I hopped out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor, and stretched, shaking off the remnants of sleep. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of Taehyung and the previous day's reconnaissance. I needed to take my spying—no, my "gathering intelligence" efforts—to the next level.
I grabbed my chair and dragged it over to the highest cabinet in my room. Reaching up, I pulled down a dusty old box that had been sitting there, untouched, for who knows how long. Dust puffed into the air, making me cough and sneeze as I brought it down to my desk.
I rummaged through the box, pushing aside old trinkets and forgotten treasures from my childhood. My fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. Aha! I pulled out my old binoculars, a gift from my parents back when I had a brief fascination with birdwatching.
"They'll do just fine for watching boys instead of birds," I muttered to myself, wiping the lenses clean with a cloth. I placed the box back into the cabinet and turned towards my closet, thinking about my "spy look."
I needed to blend in, to look inconspicuous. I rifled through my clothes, settling on Kiyoung's oversized black hoodie that swallowed me whole and a pair of black sweatpants. I topped it off with a pair of black sunglasses, feeling like I was ready for a covert operation.
I positioned myself at my bedroom window, feeling like a character in a spy movie. The binoculars felt heavy in my hands as I lifted them to my eyes and focused on Taehyung's room. His blinds were partially open, and I could see the end of his bed.
His feet were sticking out from under the tangled mess of his bed sheets. I could just make out the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. It was a strangely intimate view, watching him so peacefully in his most vulnerable state.
I almost felt guilty—almost. This was for the mission, I reminded myself. This was to gather intel, to understand my "enemy."
As I continued to watch, I couldn't help but feel a pang of realization. Taehyung's rumors about me were kind of coming true. I was spying on him—no, that didn't sound right. Stalking? No, definitely not. I was gathering intelligence. There was a clear difference.
But as I watched him stir in his sleep, a small frown creasing his forehead before he settled back into a deeper slumber, I couldn't help but feel a little creepy. What was I doing? Spying on someone in their most private moments felt wrong, even if I was just trying to figure out where he hid his audio recorder.
I pulled back from the binoculars, setting them down on the windowsill. Maybe there was a better way to go about this. Maybe I needed to rethink my approach.
