The days of tension between Min and Chung are fading, replaced by something warmer, something Min doesn’t quite know how to name. They’re not friends—not in the conventional sense. Chung is still loud, still extroverted, and Min still struggles to let his guard down. But there’s a familiarity now, a rhythm to their interactions that makes Min feel like maybe they’ve always been meant to orbit each other.
It’s a Friday evening when everything begins to change.
Min doesn’t usually stay out late—his evenings are spent sketching or reading alone in his room. But tonight, Chung had insisted.
“Come on,” Chung had said with that grin that always seemed to disarm Min. “There’s this little café downtown. They’ve got the best bubble tea. You’ve gotta try it.”
Min had hesitated, as he always did when it came to social things. But something about the way Chung looked at him—half playful, half earnest—made it impossible to say no.
Now, they’re sitting at a small table in the corner of the café. The place is cozy, with string lights hanging from the ceiling and soft jazz playing in the background. Chung is animated as always, gesturing wildly as he tells a story about a prank he pulled on one of his friends last year. Min finds himself smiling despite himself, the warmth of the room and Chung’s presence making it hard to stay distant.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Min says, shaking his head as Chung finishes his story. “You actually convinced your friend to wear a clown costume to school?”
“Not just a clown costume—a rainbow clown costume,” Chung says, laughing. “It was glorious. Best April Fool’s ever.”
Min chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re way too serious,” Chung counters, pointing at him with his straw. “But I think we balance each other out. Like yin and yang.”
Min rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
As the evening goes on, the conversation shifts. They talk about school, their classmates, their plans for the future. For the first time, Min finds himself opening up without feeling forced. He tells Chung about his love for sketching, how he dreams of studying art someday but doesn’t think he’s good enough. Chung listens intently, his usual teasing tone replaced with genuine interest.
“Are you kidding?” Chung says when Min mentions his doubts. “You’re crazy talented. I’ve seen your notes—you’re always doodling in the margins, and it’s amazing. You should totally go for it.”
Min feels his face heat up, unused to such direct praise. “Thanks,” he mumbles, looking down at his drink. “I don’t know. It’s just a hobby.”
“Hobbies can turn into careers,” Chung says firmly. “You just have to believe in yourself.”
Min looks at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. It’s moments like this that make him realize how different Chung is from how he first perceived him. He’s not just loud and confident—he’s kind, supportive, and, in his own way, thoughtful.
They leave the café late, the streets quiet and the air crisp with the promise of autumn. As they walk side by side, their hands occasionally brush, sending sparks through Min’s chest every time it happens. He wonders if Chung feels it too, but he’s too scared to ask.
“You know,” Chung says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I like what I see in you, Min. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met.”
Min stops in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. He looks at Chung, his breath caught in his throat. “What do you mean?”
Chung turns to face him, his expression serious for once. “I mean that you’re different in a good way. You don’t try to be anyone but yourself, even when it’s hard. And... I like that about you.”
Min’s stomach twists with a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, hope. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to process the way Chung is looking at him, like he’s waiting for something.
“I—” Min starts, but his voice catches. He looks away, unable to meet Chung’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
Chung steps closer, his voice soft. “I’m saying... I like you, Min. More than just as a lab partner or a friend.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. Min feels his chest tighten, his mind racing. He’s spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, afraid of letting anyone in. But now, with Chung standing in front of him, everything feels different.
“I... I don’t know if I can do this,” Min admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never— I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now.”
“That’s okay,” Chung says, his voice gentle. “I’m not asking for anything. I just... wanted you to know how I feel. No pressure.”
Min looks at him, his heart pounding. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know if he’s ready to take this leap. But for the first time, he feels like maybe—just maybe—he doesn’t have to figure it out alone.
“Thanks,” Min says finally, his voice trembling but sincere. “For telling me.”
Chung smiles, his eyes warm. “Anytime.”
They continue walking, the silence between them no longer heavy but full of possibilities. And for the first time, Min feels like the walls he’s built around himself might not be as unbreakable as he once thought.
