The city lights always felt brighter after a long day at school.
By the time we reached the restaurant Na-yeon had chosen—a cozy Korean barbecue spot tucked between a karaoke bar and a tiny stationery shop—the street was alive with neon signs and the smell of sizzling meat drifting out into the night.
Na-yeon, of course, was the first to burst inside. "Table for eight!" she announced confidently, like she owned the place.
I followed with Ji-hyun, then Ha-neul, who slipped in quietly behind us. Soo-min and Eun-ji trailed after, Eun-ji tugging gently at Soo-min's sleeve like she was nervous about stepping into such a lively space.
The staff guided us to a corner table big enough for all of us, the grill built right into the center. Na-yeon clapped her hands as we slid into our seats. "Perfect. This is exactly the vibe I wanted!"
I sat down between Ji-hyun and Ha-neul, trying not to notice how my knee brushed against Ha-neul's under the table. He didn't move his leg away. He didn't move closer, either. He just stayed where he was, steady as always. But the small contact made my pulse quicken anyway.
Na-yeon ordered for the whole table, rattling off plates of pork belly, beef, side dishes, and bottles of soda and juice like she'd memorized the entire menu.
"Slow down, we're not feeding the entire class," Ji-hyun said, his tone even but with a hint of teasing.
Na-yeon waved him off. "Food brings joy. Don't complain."
When the meat arrived, sizzling on the grill, the table filled with the rich aroma that made my stomach rumble. For a while, conversation dipped into the sound of chopsticks clattering and meat sizzling, laughter bubbling here and there.
It felt… normal. Comfortable. The nerves from earlier, the weight of the presentation, all of it melted into the haze of warmth and food.
But my eyes kept drifting—again and again—to Ha-neul.
The way he quietly placed an extra piece of lettuce near my plate without a word. The way his sleeves were rolled slightly, exposing the pale skin of his wrist as he handled the tongs. The way his gaze flickered across the table, sharp and observant, even when he didn't say anything.
I wanted to say something. Thank you. You were amazing today. You saved me when I almost messed up. But the words stuck in my throat.
And maybe he was thinking the same. His eyes met mine more than once, lingering for a second too long before darting away.
There was something unsaid between us. Heavy. Alive.
---
It was Na-yeon, unsurprisingly, who shifted the mood.
Once the first wave of food was cleared, she slammed down her chopsticks with a grin. "Okay. Enough eating in silence. We need entertainment."
Ji-hyun sighed, already bracing himself. "What now?"
"Truth or dare!" she declared, her eyes glittering.
Groans echoed around the table, but Na-yeon was relentless. "Oh, come on. Don't be boring. This is a celebration. We deserve some chaos."
Soo-min's lips curved into a smirk. "I like the sound of that."
Eun-ji's eyes widened. "Wait, really? Here?"
"Of course, here." Soo-min leaned back casually, arms folded. "Don't tell me you're scared, Eun-ji."
"I-I'm not scared," Eun-ji stammered, her cheeks already tinting pink.
I almost laughed. The way Soo-min teased Eun-ji was so natural, like it was her favorite pastime. And Eun-ji's reactions—flustered, shy, helplessly honest—were exactly the fuel Soo-min thrived on.
Na-yeon clapped again. "See? Perfect. Let's start!"
And just like that, we were trapped.
---
The dares started tame—singing a line of a song, doing a silly dance, eating a spicy pepper. Laughter grew, loosening everyone's shoulders. Even Ha-neul, though he didn't join much, sat watching with a faintly amused expression that made my chest ache.
But then came the moment.
It was Soo-min's turn to pick, and her playful grin turned almost wicked. Her gaze slid straight to Eun-ji.
"Truth or dare?" she asked, her voice smooth.
Eun-ji fidgeted, tugging at the hem of her sleeve. "Uh… dare?"
"Dangerous choice." Soo-min leaned closer, her grin widening. "I dare you… to kiss me."
The table erupted. Na-yeon gasped dramatically, Ji-hyun's chopsticks froze midair, and I nearly choked on my drink.
Eun-ji turned scarlet, her hands flying up. "W-what?! Here? In front of everyone?!"
Soo-min's tone softened just a little, though the teasing never left her eyes. "Unless you're backing out?"
"I—I'm not—!" Eun-ji stammered, clearly caught in a trap.
The room seemed to hold its breath as Eun-ji leaned forward, her movements hesitant, trembling. She pressed her lips to Soo-min's in the briefest touch—soft, fleeting, like a whisper.
But the second she pulled back, Soo-min caught her wrist, her smirk fading into something sharper. Her eyes locked onto Eun-ji's, and before anyone could react, she pulled her back in.
This kiss wasn't hesitant.
It deepened almost instantly, Soo-min tilting her head, pressing forward with a confidence that contrasted Eun-ji's stunned stillness. But then—even more surprising—Eun-ji responded. Her eyes fluttered shut, her hands clutching the fabric of Soo-min's sleeve as if anchoring herself.
What was supposed to be a dare turned into something else entirely.
Seconds stretched into minutes. The table fell silent, the air thick, heavy with disbelief.
Na-yeon finally broke the silence with a strangled, "Uh—guys? You can stop now?"
But they didn't.
The kiss lingered, deepened, drawn out into something raw and consuming. Their movements grew slower, more deliberate, until the rest of the world faded for them.
By the time they finally pulled apart — almost forty-five minutes later, if anyone had been brave enough to check a clock—Eun-ji's lips were swollen, her face flushed deep crimson. Soo-min looked almost the same as always, except her eyes burned brighter, her smirk softer, more intimate.
Eun-ji buried her face in her hands, mortified. "I-I can't believe—"
"You did great," Soo-min interrupted, her tone teasing but gentler now. She reached out, brushing her fingers against Eun-ji's.
The table was chaos again, Na-yeon laughing, Ji-hyun shaking his head in disbelief, and me still trying to process what I'd just witnessed.
But even as the noise returned, one thought stuck with me:
Sometimes, a single dare changes everything.
And maybe, just maybe, I wanted my own moment like that. With the boy sitting silently beside me, whose leg still brushed mine under the table, whose eyes I couldn't stop chasing.