WINRINA ONESHOTS

SISTER PT. 2

As Jimin pulled away from the brief, tantalizing brush of Minjeong’s lips, reality crashed down on her, like the walls she’d carefully built to protect herself from this exact feeling. She wanted to breathe, to collect her thoughts, but Minjeong’s intense gaze had her pinned in place, an electric spark crackling in the air between them.

“Minjeong… we can’t,” Jimin whispered, barely able to hear herself over the pounding of her heart. But even as the words left her lips, she felt them betray her—each syllable laced with the longing that had been building, unspoken, since the moment she’d first seen her.

Minjeong’s hand lingered on Jimin’s arm, her fingers tracing circles that sent shivers down her spine. “Then why didn’t you stop me?” Minjeong’s voice was soft but unapologetic, her eyes never wavering from Jimin’s. There was no accusation, just a simple, honest curiosity that Jimin couldn’t shake.

Because I didn’t want to, Jimin thought, the words lodging themselves in her throat. But she couldn’t say that. Not when the guilt was starting to claw its way up, tangling with the thrill she felt whenever she was around Minjeong. The guilt was real, she knew, yet it didn’t make her step back, didn’t push her away.

Minjeong seemed to sense her turmoil and took a step back herself, her expression unreadable. “I get it,” she said, but her tone was bittersweet, her smile lacking its usual mischievous spark. “You’re with my brother, after all.”

The reminder felt like a punch to the gut. Minseok was sweet, genuine, and had treated her better than anyone she’d been with in years. Yet, Jimin couldn’t deny the truth. She was falling in deep for Minjeong, inch by inch, despite every rule she’d made for herself.

“Minjeong… I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Jimin’s voice shook slightly.

Minjeong crossed her arms, the hurt in her eyes quickly masked with a challenging glare. “Then what is it, Jimin? Do you just like the game? The thrill?” Her voice softened, a vulnerability seeping through that Jimin had never seen before. “Or… is it more?”

The question hung between them, loaded and heavy. Jimin didn’t have an answer. Not one she could put into words, anyway. But she could feel it—a deep ache, an almost unbearable pull toward Minjeong that grew stronger with every glance, every smirk, every gentle tease.

Days went by, and Jimin found herself caught in a cycle, each encounter with Minseok tainted by the constant, burning presence of his sister in her mind. She was on edge, feeling guilty yet craving every excuse to see Minjeong again, to feel the thrill she’d tried so hard to ignore.

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The next encounter happened when Minseok invited her over for a family barbecue. Jimin almost declined, but the thought of seeing Minjeong again was too tempting. She was caught in a loop, unable to escape the mix of dread and anticipation that filled her every time she thought of the younger girl.

When she arrived, Minjeong was already there, sitting on the patio with a lazy grin that grew sharper the moment she saw Jimin approach. She was wearing an oversized shirt, loose enough to hang off one shoulder, revealing the elegant curve of her collarbone. Jimin swallowed, struggling to keep her composure as she walked over, forcing herself to smile at Minseok.

The evening was tense, to say the least. With Minjeong seated across from her, their eyes would meet, fleeting yet intense, every stolen glance heightening the tension between them. At one point, Jimin felt Minjeong’s foot graze against hers under the table, just for a second, and it sent a jolt up her spine. She looked over, catching Minjeong’s small, knowing smirk, and quickly glanced away, her face flushed.

Eventually, the night began to wind down. Minseok’s parents had gone inside, and he’d gone off to grab drinks, leaving Jimin and Minjeong alone on the patio, the night air thick with unsaid words. They sat in silence, only the faint chirping of crickets filling the void.

“You seem… restless,” Minjeong murmured, breaking the silence. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her gaze fixed on Jimin.

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, forcing a casual smile. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Minjeong repeated, the word hanging in the air between them. “You look anything but fine.”

The challenge in Minjeong’s voice was unmistakable. She leaned closer, and Jimin could feel her breath against her cheek, her heart pounding at the proximity. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, but her body betrayed her, leaning in, drawn by the warmth of Minjeong’s presence.

“You’re playing with fire, you know that?” Jimin whispered, her voice barely audible, her gaze locked onto Minjeong’s.

“Maybe,” Minjeong murmured, her eyes flashing. “But only because you keep coming closer.”

Jimin’s breath hitched as Minjeong’s hand brushed against her arm, the touch so light it was almost ghostly. She knew she should stop this—should push Minjeong away, end this torment once and for all. But instead, she found herself reaching out, her hand brushing against Minjeong’s cheek, her fingers trembling.

“Jimin…” Minjeong’s voice was soft, almost pleading, and Jimin felt her resolve weaken, the weight of her conflicting emotions overwhelming her.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jimin admitted, her voice raw. “I can’t… Minseok—”

Minjeong’s eyes softened, but she didn’t pull away. “Then why are you here, Jimin? Why do you keep coming back?”

The question sliced through her, brutal in its honesty. Why did she keep coming back? She wanted to believe it was just the thrill, the excitement, but deep down, she knew it was more. Minjeong had become a part of her thoughts, her dreams, a constant, aching presence she couldn’t escape.

Jimin’s voice was barely a whisper as she answered, “Because… I can’t stop.”

Minjeong’s expression shifted, the teasing smile fading as her eyes filled with something deeper, something that mirrored the ache in Jimin’s own heart. Without another word, she closed the distance between them, capturing Jimin’s lips in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if pouring every unspoken word into that single, stolen moment.

Jimin’s mind went blank, her thoughts drowned out by the sensation of Minjeong’s lips on hers, the softness of her touch, the way her hands slid around Jimin’s waist, pulling her closer. For a brief, beautiful second, nothing else mattered—neither her loyalty to Minseok nor the guilt that had plagued her for weeks.

But reality returned too quickly, the weight of her choices crashing down on her. She pulled away, breathless, her gaze filled with regret as she met Minjeong’s eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Minjeong’s smile was sad, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Jimin’s face. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely a murmur. “But that doesn’t change how I feel.”

The words lingered, leaving Jimin frozen, torn between the life she had with Minseok and the pull she felt toward Minjeong. She wanted to speak, to find the words to explain the impossible conflict that had consumed her, but all she could manage was a single, choked whisper.

“I’m sorry, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s eyes softened, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips as she pulled away. “Me too.”

As Jimin watched her retreat into the shadows, she knew that whatever came next, she would never forget that night, that kiss, or the impossible choice that lay ahead. But one thing was clear—her life would never be the same again.