Y/N's POV:
It all started with a shared laughter over a particularly bad joke at a college party. Minji, with her infectious smile and sparkling eyes, had become an instant fixture in my world.
That night, I realised I was hopelessly smitten. Five years, countless shared moments, inside jokes, and late-night conversations later, my crush still burned bright, albeit fueled by a constant stream of mixed signals.
Every time I thought I was making progress, I’d stumble on another ambiguous interaction.
Her touch lingered a little longer than usual, her gaze held mine for an extra second, or she’d laugh at my jokes, even the bad ones.
Every subtle gesture fueled my hope, only to be extinguished by the next seemingly nonchalant action.
“You’re looking lost in thought,” Jinwoo, my best friend, observed, nudging me with his elbow.
We were huddled in a corner at our usual coffee shop, the aroma of roasted beans blending with the familiar scent of Minji's perfume.
“Just thinking about… work,” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
“Right,” he chuckled, “Work that involves staring dreamily at Minji whenever she enters the room.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, but the blush on my cheeks betrayed me.
Jinwoo, bless his soul, was the only one privy to the depth of my feelings for Minji.
He’d seen me navigate the treacherous terrain of her mixed signals, the constant hope that morphed into agonizing doubt.
“Dude, she’s been flirting with you for months,” he’d say, pointing out the way she’d brush her fingers against mine during a game of Cards Against Humanity or the playful banter that always seemed to veer towards something more intimate.
“She’s just being nice,” I’d retort, clinging to the rational part of me that refused to accept the possibility of reciprocation.
“Nice? She calls you ‘Sunshine’ and asks you about your day while looking at you with those puppy dog eyes? Nice is a generous term,” he’d argue, shaking his head in disbelief.
Deep down, I knew Jinwoo was right. But the fear of rejection, of ruining our friendship, kept me paralyzed.
I was stuck in a limbo of unrequited longing, desperately clinging to the faintest hint of possibility.
Minji’s POV:
It wasn't intentional. I’d always been drawn to Y/N’s kind heart, his infectious laughter, and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved.
I enjoyed his company, relished our late-night conversations, and the way he always knew how to make me laugh. But it never crossed my mind that he felt the same way.
I’d always seen him as a dear friend, someone I could confide in, someone who always had my back.
I would tease him, flirt playfully, and enjoy the comfort of his presence. I hadn’t realised the depth of his feelings, the way his heart ached with unspoken desires, the way his eyes held a love that I was blind to.
Maybe it was the way I’d brush my fingers against his during a game, the way I’d linger in his company a little longer than necessary, or the way I’d laugh at his jokes, even the bad ones. I was just being nice, or so I thought.
“You’re just being nice,” Y/N would say, his eyes filled with a longing that I missed amidst my own self-absorption.
“Yeah, just being nice,” I’d echo, failing to notice the unspoken yearning in his voice.
