Chapter 10

Chaeyoung actually did it.

She was going to have lunch with Tzuyu.

It was the day after that mess of a lunch she had with Nayeon and Mina, and that eventful parking garage meeting of Jeongyeon. She’d stared at her phone for a long time after that—longer than she wanted to admit.

Chaeyoung thought about it last night. Thought about saying something. Texting Nayeon. Calling her out.

…And then she didn’t. Because what was the point?

Nayeon wasn’t going to listen. She never did when it came to stuff like this. And Chaeyoung wasn’t about to sit there and argue with someone who had already made up her mind and didn’t even realize it yet.

So she left it alone.

Didn’t bring it up again. Didn’t tell Mina either. She just… let it sit. And she was going to let whatever it all was, play out however it was going to play out.

It wasn’t her problem.

…At least, that’s what Chaeyoung told herself.

Now here Chaeyoung was. She actually took Mina and Nayeon’s advice, and responded to Tzuyu’s text and agreed to lunch. And now—she was dtanding in the lobby on the ground floor, waiting, staring at the elevator like it personally owed her something.

She was anxious.

Chaeyoung shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing at her watch for the third time in the last two minutes. Her blazer was a little stiff from nerves, and she rans a hand through her hair like she can somehow smooth out the tension coiling in her stomach.

Come on, Tzuyu…

Every ding of the elevator makes her jump, her mind running through every possible scenario. Did Tzuyu hate her now? Did she think Chaeyoung was some creepy pervert after the whole “Ms. Pervert” thing? Or worse, what if she just ghosts her, and didn’t want to have lunch at all and this was a huge mistake?

Her phone buzzes, and she snatches it up instantly, hoping maybe it’s Tzuyu texting to say she’s on her way. Nope. Just a Slack notification from work. Ugh.

Chaeyoung inhales, trying to calm herself. She tells herself she’s just having a regular lunch. Just a normal, professional lunch. Except, of course, it’s with someone who, intentionally or not, completely fucked with her nerves from day one. And now, she’s standing in the lobby, hoping the girl shows up before her anxiety completely eats her alive.

She glances at the revolving doors again. Any second now.

And then—there she is. Small, unassuming, carrying her bag over one shoulder, moving from the elevator with a hesitant smile.

It’s Tzuyu.

Chaeyoung’s chest tightens, and she realizes she’s holding her breath. Oh god, it’s actually happening.

Tzuyu clears her throat as she approaches Chaeyoung slowly. “Hi… thanks for finally taking my offer,” she says, her voice carrying a teasing lilt, like she’s both annoyed and amused at the same time.

Chaeyoung quickly looks away, trying to ignore the underlying tone, and clears her throat. “Sure… uh… let’s just go get something to eat, yeah?”

Tzuyu smirks and nods, and the two step out of the building together. The walk is quiet at first, filled with Chaeyoung’s anxious thoughts and Tzuyu’s deliberate calmness, almost like she’s letting the tension simmer.

They find a small cafe-brunch spot not far from the company building. It’s cozy, not too crowded, with sunlight streaming in through the windows. They grab a table near the corner, and as they sit down, Chaeyoung can feel her nerves knotting tighter and tighter. Tzuyu casually flips through the menu, her teasing smile still lingering, while Chaeyoung fidgets with her own menu, trying—unsuccessfully—to focus on what she wants to eat.

As time goes on, she fidgets with the edge of her menu a bit more, tapping her fingers nervously against the table. Every few seconds, she glances up at Tzuyu, trying to gauge her mood, trying to figure out if the girl is still mildly annoyed, or if she’s just… playing her like before.

Tzuyu, on the other hand, looks calm, relaxed, scrolling her menu with a slight smirk as if she knows exactly the storm she’s brewing in Chaeyoung’s chest. Chaeyoung clears her throat, trying to sound casual.

“So… uh… have you decided what you want to eat?” she asks, her voice a little too high-pitched.

Tzuyu glances up, raising an eyebrow. “Not yet. I’m trying to figure out if I want something light… or something that’ll make you sweat,” she teases, voice soft, almost playful.

Chaeyoung nearly chokes on her own breath. Oh god, she’s teasing me already, she thinks, shifting in her seat and trying to remind herself she’s just a mentor, this is just lunch, nothing more.

Her eyes flicker back down to her menu, but she can’t focus on the words. Her mind keeps jumping back to that first day, the “Ms. Pervert” incident, the texts, the whole mess of it all. And now here she is, sitting across from the girl, heart hammering, palms sweating, and every instinct telling her: Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t mess this up.

Tzuyu, meanwhile, sets her menu down slowly, just enough for Chaeyoung to notice her deliberate calmness. And that only makes Chaeyoung’s nerves spike higher.

“This is… uh… nice,” Chaeyoung blurts out, gesturing vaguely around the cafe.

Tzuyu tilts her head, smirking. “Mhm. It’s cute, right? Not too fancy, not too crowded… kind of like me, I guess,” she says, her voice teasing, eyes glinting mischievously.

Chaeyoung gulps. Yeah… cute and harmless—totally safe, totally professional… Her mind immediately argues with itself, because “safe and professional” had completely gone out the window the moment this girl had stepped into her life.

On edge, Chaeyoung fumbles with her menu as the waiter comes by, and it slips right out of her hands, landing on the floor. She quickly leans down, bending over to grab it, and her eyes catch a glimpse of Tzuyu’s skirt.

Longer this time. Much longer. Chaeyoung swallows hard, as she feels her throat close. God… not again. Please, not again, she thinks, trying to calm herself.

Tzuyu notices the slight hesitation and tilts her head, one corner of her lips tugging into a mischievous smirk. She lets her gaze linger on Chaeyoung just a moment longer than necessary, subtle but pointed, and then looks away, casually brushing her hair behind her ear.

The two quickly place their orders with the waiter, who soon leaves.

Tzuyu glances at Chaeyoung again, eyes sparkling with teasing intent. “Did you notice anything different?” she asks, voice light but flirty, letting the words hang in the air. “I actually fixed my skirt this time.”

Chaeyoung gulps, forcing her gaze elsewhere, feeling heat creep up her neck, and tries desperately not to let her thoughts betray her. “No… I’m glad though. That would’ve been an HR violation.”

Tzuyu just stares at her, one eyebrow raised. “You know what else would’ve been an HR violation?”

Chaeyoung freezes mid-breath. Oh no. Not this…… “Jeez… can you calm down? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Tzuyu giggles, tilting her head, clearly enjoying herself. Chaeyoung cleared her throat for what felt like the tenth time.

“Okay… Ms. Per—”

“What the—stop saying that!” Chaeyoung snapped, immediately flustered.

Tzuyu blinked at her, wide-eyed and innocent. “What? I can’t tease you a little?”

“You’ve been calling me that for weeks now in those messages!”

Tzuyu tilted her head. “Well… you did ignore me for two weeks.”

“I did not ignore you!” Chaeyoung shot back.

Tzuyu leaned forward slightly, pouting. “You totally did. I asked you to lunch forever ago.”

Chaeyoung opened her mouth—then closed it. “…I was busy.” Tzuyu raised an eyebrow. Chaeyoung looked away. “…Sometimes.”

Tzuyu smiled. “Oh,” she said softly. “So you were avoiding me, huh?”

“I was not—”

“You were,” Tzuyu said, calm and certain.

Chaeyoung’s ears burned. “You’re so annoying.”

Tzuyu just hummed, completely unbothered. “And yet… you still came to lunch with me.”

That shut her up. For a second, Chaeyoung just stared at her. “…That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mhm,” Tzuyu said, like she didn’t believe a word.

The waiter dropped off their drinks, and for a moment, Chaeyoung focused very hard on her water. Anything but Tzuyu. Unfortunately—

“Are you gonna stare at me the whole time, or what?”

Chaeyoung choked. “I’m not looking at you!”

“You were just staring.”

“I was not—”

“You were,” Tzuyu repeated, smiling into her glass.

Chaeyoung glanced up. Big mistake. Tzuyu was already looking at her. Smiling. Like she’d been waiting. Chaeyoung immediately looked back down. “Oh my god.”

Tzuyu laughed quietly. A beat passed. Then—

“You know,” Tzuyu said, casually, “you don’t have to act like this.”

Chaeyoung frowned. “Act like what?”

“Like you’re terrified of me.”

“I’m not terrified of you.”

Tzuyu leaned in just slightly. “Then why are you like this?”

Chaeyoung froze. “…Like what?”

Tzuyu’s voice softened—but her eyes stayed sharp. “All jumpy. All flustered.” A pause. “Like I’m going to do something to you.”

Chaeyoung swallowed. “You are doing something to me,” she muttered.

Tzuyu blinked. Then smiled. “Oh?”

Chaeyoung immediately realized what she said. “…I didn’t mean it like that.”

Tzuyu leaned back, clearly pleased. “Sure.”

Their food arrived. Chaeyoung immediately grabbed her fork like it was a lifeline. She tried to focus on eating. To be normal. But then—Under the table, something brushed her ankle. She froze. “…Don’t.”

Tzuyu tilted her head. “Don’t what?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t,” Tzuyu said, completely deadpan.

Chaeyoung kicked her lightly. “Stop.”

Tzuyu’s lips twitched. But this time—She actually stopped. That surprised Chaeyoung enough to look up. Tzuyu was watching her. Not teasing. Just… watching.

“…What?” Chaeyoung said, guarded.

Tzuyu shrugged lightly. “Nothing.” There was a pause. Then—”…You’re interesting, that’s all.”

Chaeyoung blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Tzuyu said simply, “you act like you hate this.”

Chaeyoung scoffed. “I do hate this.”

Tzuyu held her gaze. “…But you didn’t have to come today.”

Silence slaps them. Chaeyoung’s grip tightened slightly around her fork. “…You’re my intern.”

Tzuyu didn’t react. “Right,” she said. Another pause. Then, softer— “Is that the only reason?”

That landed. Hard. Chaeyoung looked at her. Actually looked this time. And for a second—she didn’t have a comeback. Didn’t have a deflection. Didn’t have anything. “…I don’t know,” she admitted quietly.

The words slipped out before she could stop them. Tzuyu stilled, just for a second. Then her expression softened—barely, but enough to matter. “…Okay,” she said.

Chaeyoung blinked, immediately snapping back into herself. “I mean—like—not like that,” she added quickly. “I just—this is—new, okay?”

Tzuyu smiled again. But this time, it wasn’t as sharp. “Yeah,” she said. “I figured.”

The tension didn’t disappear. But it changed. Chaeyoung looked back down at her food, heart still beating a little too fast. “…You’re still annoying,” she muttered.

Tzuyu grinned. “And you still came to lunch.”

Chaeyoung huffed. But she didn’t argue.

Some silence falls again over the table as the two eat, Chaeyoung desperately trying to focus on her food instead of the girl across from her. As she becomes almost done with her meal, Tzuyu tilts her head and asks, with that teasing glint in her eye, “So… are you free tomorrow for lunch?”

Chaeyoung freezes mid-bite. “…No. I’m not.”

Tzuyu squints. “I don’t believe you.”

“Seriously, I’m not free,” Chaeyoung snaps, trying to sound firm. “I eat with my colleagues. That’s it. No exceptions.”

Tzuyu leans her elbow on the table, grinning like a cat. “Can I join?”

Chaeyoung’s eyes go wide. What the fuck? Her mind immediately flashes to yesterday’s lunch with Nayeon and Mina—a total chaotic disaster. Hell no. This girl cannot, and WILL NOT be part of that mess. Espeically with Mina and Nayeon. Just thinking about the shit, was making her head spin. And not in a good way.

“…No,” Chaeyoung says, trying to sound final.

Tzuyu pouts dramatically. “Come on. Please?”

“…I said no.” Chaeyoung slams her fork down a little too hard.

“Fine,” Tzuyu says, fake-sighing. “What about the day after tomorrow?”

Chaeyoung groans inwardly. Would this girl ever give up? “No. Not free then either.”

Tzuyu tilts her head again, voice soft, coaxing. “And the day after?”

Chaeyoung buries her face in her hands, muttering under her breath, “God… seriously?” She tries to finish the last bites of her food, praying the lunch ends before this girl gets any more ideas.

But of course, Tzuyu is relentless. She presses her foot lightly against Chaeyoung’s leg under the table and leans closer. “I’m not going to give up,” she whispers. “I don’t know anybody here. Seriously. I don’t know anyone.”

Chaeyoung freezes. “…That’s bullshit,” she mutters, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve definitely talk to other interns. It’s been too long for you to be by yourself.”

Tzuyu goes quiet for a moment. Then, softly, almost innocently, she says, “Can we… have lunch again, please?”

Chaeyoung exhales through her nose like she’s just run a marathon. Her head spins. She feels her foot pressing against her leg, eyes on hers, the girl’s persistence… God. Fuck.

And then—Tzuyu pouts. Not even subtly.

Her bottom lip pushes out just a little, her eyes going wide—ridiculously wide—as she tilts her head, blinking up at Chaeyoung like she’s trying to win something. “…Please?” she adds, quieter this time.

Chaeyoung freezes.”Are you—” She cuts herself off, staring at her. “Are you serious right now?”

Tzuyu doesn’t answer. She just holds the look. Pout still there. Eyes still big. Completely shameless. Her foot nudges Chaeyoung’s leg again under the table. “…Please Chae,” she repeats

Chaeyoung groans, dragging a hand down her face, already losing. “That’s not—no, that’s not fair,” she mutters. “You can’t just—what is that? What are you doing?”

Tzuyu leans in just a little closer. Still pouting. Still staring.

Chaeyoung folds instantly.

“Fine,” she blurts, shaking her head like she’s mad about it. “Fine, okay. Oh my god—you’re making this way too difficult.”

Tzuyu’s pout disappears immediately. Replaced with a small, knowing smile. “Oh,” she says lightly. “You think I’m cute.”

Chaeyoung chokes. “I did not say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Chewy—”

“You gave in really fast.”

“I—no, I didn’t—” Chaeyoung cuts herself off, face heating up, completely betrayed. “…That was really cute,” she mutters under her breath, like it physically pains her to admit it.

Tzuyu’s smile widens. “I know.”

Chaeyoung groans heavily, as she lowers more into her seat. “You’re…such a brat.” She says, biting back a smile, she can’t hide.

She knows what this girl is doing, and she hates how much it’s working on her. Tzuyu grins triumphantly, like she just won the lottery, and presses her foot a little harder against Chaeyoung’s leg.

Chaeyoung’s jaw tightens. Her fork pauses mid-air as the pressure of Tzuyu’s foot presses again against her leg. She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Can you… stop with the foot thing? I said we can have lunch together. Jeez.”

Tzuyu tilts her head, the tiniest smirk tugging at her lips. “Why?”

Chaeyoung blinks at her, mind blank for a second. And then… something reckless takes over. “What… do you… have… like a foot fetish or something?” She says it fast, almost hoping it’ll catch Tzuyu off guard.

Tzuyu just giggles. A soft, teasing laugh that makes Chaeyoung’s stomach do a weird flip. And then. Oh god. Then…..Her foot starts moving. Slowly. Casually. But with intent.

Chaeyoung feels Tzuyu’s the falt of heel creep up her shin… her knee… and then her thigh. Her breath hitches. Her fork clatters against her plate as she suddenly realizes: she’s actually flustered. Her heart is doing this ridiculous staccato thing in her chest.

But it doesn’t stop there. Tzuyu’s foot continues its maddening journey, sliding higher, the pressure firm and deliberate. It moves from her thigh to the apex of her legs, the sole of her shoe pressing directly against the crotch of her pants.

Chaeyoung’s entire body goes rigid. A strangled sound escapes her throat. She can feel the blood rushing south, a familiar, horrifying heat blooming as her body betrays her. She’s getting hard. Right here. In the middle of a fucking cafe.

“Chewy-ah… move your fucking foot right now,” she hisses, her voice a low, desperate whisper. Her hand shoots under the table, intending to slap the offending appendage away.

But Tzuyu is faster. She just applies more pressure, rubbing her foot in a slow, torturous circle against the growing bulge in Chaeyoung’s pants. The friction is obscene, a public violation that makes Chaeyoung’s head spin. She tries to push Tzuyu’s foot away, but her hand just ends up resting on top of it, feeling the motion, a helpless accomplice to her own undoing.

Tzuyu leans closer, that grin still teasing and knowing. “Maybe I do have a fetish,” she says, her voice low, playful, dangerous. “Wouldn’t you want to know, Ms. Pervert?”

Chaeyoung clears her throat so violently it almost sounds like she’s choking. Her hips give an involuntary, tiny jerk. She hates it. She hates how good it feels. The pressure is relentless, a steady, rhythmic rubbing that is coiling tension deep in her groin. She’s going to cum. She’s actually going to cum in her pants in a public cafe if this doesn’t stop.

Tzuyu leans in even closer, her lips practically brushing Chaeyoung’s ear. “You know… you could make it up to me.”

Chaeyoung freezes, her entire being focused on the foot between her legs. “Make… it up to you?”

“Yeah,” Tzuyu whispers, her voice a silken threat. Her foot presses down, and Chaeyoung has to bite back a moan. “You’ve ignored me for weeks… and lunch just doesn’t feel like enough, does it?” She pauses, letting the question hang in the air, her foot stilling for an agonizing second. Then she starts rubbing again, even slower. “How about you take me on a real date? After work. Somewhere nice. To really apologize.”

The words hit Chaeyoung like a physical blow.

“What? No!” Chaeyoung sputters, her voice a strained whisper. “I’m already making it up to you! We’re going to lunch! We’re literally going to lunch, that’s enough!”

“Lunch is for coworkers,” Tzuyu purrs, her voice dripping with condescension. “A date is for… well, you know. For the girl you’re trying to…..”

“Don’t—” Chaeyoung snarls. “I have never thought about doing that….”

Tzuyu looks at her unconvienced, she knows Chaeyoung is fucking lying. “Well….your body is saying otherwise Chae. I know what you want from me.”

Her foot presses down again, harder this time, and Chaeyoung’s hips buck involuntarily. “So, will we go on a date? Or…” She leans in, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You could embarrass yourself and cum for me right now in this cafe. It’s your choice.”

The sheer audacity makes Chaeyoung’s head spin. A date? The word itself feels more intimate than the foot currently grinding against her.

“No, that’s… that’s too much,” Chaeyoung chokes out, her hands fisting in her lap under the table.

“Lunch and a date,” Tzuyu counters, her tone firm, like a businesswoman negotiating a deal she knows she’s already won. “That’s the new deal. Take it or… you know.”

Chaeyoung’s mind races. She’s trapped. Every nerve ending is on fire. The image of cumming in her pants in the middle of this cafe is horrifying, but the pressure is relentless, perfect, and she hates how much she wants it.

“I… fine. Okay. Lunch…. next Friday….. but no date, not yet. Please. Just only lunch for now.” she chokes out, the words a desperate, frantic plea. She’ll agree to anything. Anything to make this stop, or maybe, anything to make it continue.

Tzuyu leans back, but she doesn’t remove her foot as she huffs out a short breath. “Okay, fine. We’ll do lunch for now….” She just looks at Chaeyoung, her expression triumphant and utterly unimpressed. “So….what time then?”

Chaeyoung stares at her, her breath hitching as Tzuyu’s foot presses a little harder, right against the most sensitive spot. “What? Are you serious? Get your fucking foot off me!”

“I am serious,” Tzuyu says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I need a time. And a day. For all I know, you’re just saying this to make me stop.”

“We are going to lunch!” Chaeyoung hisses, her knuckles white where she’s gripping the table. “Why the fuck are you still doing this? We made a deal!”

“Because I don’t believe you,” Tzuyu says simply, a wicked glint in her eyes. “You’re a liar. So, what time? Noon? One? Give me a time and I’ll stop.”

“This is unprofessional!” Chaeyoung sputters, her face burning. “You can’t just—”

“Then get up,” Tzuyu challenges, her foot stilling for a moment before resuming its maddeningly slow, torturous circles. “If it’s so unprofessional, get up and leave. You don’t have to sit here.”

Chaeyoung glares at her, but she’s frozen in place. They both know she’s not going anywhere. A slow, wicked smile spreads across Tzuyu’s face. “See? You like it.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Chaeyoung breathes, her voice shaky. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Literally ten minutes ago you were all cute and pouty, and now you’re— you’re a fucking sociopath with your foot on my dick!”

Tzuyu just laughs, a soft, musical sound that makes Chaeyoung’s stomach clench. “I could report you for this,” Chaeyoung threatens, but it sounds weak even to her own ears.

“Go ahead,” Tzuyu says, her grin widening. She leans in again, her voice a venomous whisper. “Report me. And I’ll tell them how you ‘accidentally’ saw my panties on my first day. How you stared at my legs before I reached my cubicle, and how you made my skirt fly up so you could get a look. We’ll see who they believe.”

“That was a fucking accident!” Chaeyoung snaps, her voice rising slightly before she catches herself.

“Sure it was,” Tzuyu purrs, her foot pressing down hard one last time, making Chaeyoung jerk in her seat. “You’re the one who called me a brat before. This is what brats do. Now… next friday. What time?”

Chaeyoung throws her head back and lets out a tiny, frustrated sound that’s caught between a groan and a sob. She can’t win. She’s completely at her mercy. She slumps in defeat, glaring at the table.

“Fine,” she grumbles, so low it’s barely audible. “Next friday, at noon.”

Tzuyu beams, satisfied. And just as Chaeyoung feels the first pulse of her orgasm about to burst, just as she’s about to tumble over the edge—

Tzuyu pulls her foot away. The sudden loss of pressure is almost as jarring as the touch itself, leaving Chaeyoung aching, frustrated, and utterly defeated.

Chaeyoung’s body clenches, her orgasm hanging in the balance, denied. It’s like being pushed off a cliff only to be snatched back at the last second. She’s left breathless, aching, and so frustrated she could scream. Her length throbs, trapped in her dress pants, a painful, pulsing reminder of what just almost happened.

Tzuyu just giggles, as if she already knows the truth: she just edged Chaeyoung like a motherfucker in the middle of a cafe. “Mhm. That’s what I thought. Next friday it is. Don’t be late.”

Chaeyoung can’t even argue. She just nods, muttering, “…I won’t.” Internally, she’s dying. Her head is spinning, her heart’s racing, and her body is screaming in denied release.

Tzuyu leans forward, just enough to whisper, voice low and teasing: “Better be worth my foot teasing.”

Chaeyoung groans loudly, burying her face in her hands. “God… I fucking hate you.”

But Tzuyu just giggles, taking a slow sip of her water, completely in control.

They finish their meal—somehow—and nothing else too chaotic happens after that. They split the bill, step out of the café, and start walking back toward the company building. Chaeyoung is a mess. An absolute, internal disaster.

Her brain is still replaying everything that just happened—Tzuyu’s voice, her teasing, the way she kept pushing and pushing—God. If anyone had seen them in there, she would’ve been completely screwed.

They step into the elevator, and it’s finally silent. For once. Tzuyu doesn’t say anything—just stands there beside her, calm, that same faint, knowing smile lingering on her lips. Chaeyoung exhales shakily, leaning back against the wall like she just survived something. “…That was,” she starts, then stops. No. Say it. “That was highly inappropriate.”

Tzuyu turns her head slightly. “…Oh?”

Chaeyoung straightens a little, trying to regain control. “Yeah. That whole thing back there? Completely unprofessional. You can’t just—do that.”

Tzuyu blinks at her. Then tilts her head. “…Do what?”

Chaeyoung’s face heats instantly. “You know what you did.”

Tzuyu’s lips twitch. “No, I don’t think I do.”

Chaeyoung pushes off the wall slightly, flustered. “Under the table! The—foot thing—what was that?!”

Tzuyu just looks at her. Then—”…Oh.” A beat. Then she smiles. “That?”

Chaeyoung’s jaw drops. “Yes, that!“

Tzuyu shrugs lightly. “You didn’t stop me.”

Chaeyoung chokes. “I told you to stop!”

“You told me to stop,” Tzuyu corrects, “but you didn’t move.”

Chaeyoung freezes. “…What?”

Tzuyu steps a little closer. Not much. Just enough. “You could’ve moved your leg,” she says simply. “Or gotten up. Or left I told you that.”

Chaeyoung’s heart stutters. “I—was trying to be professional.”

Tzuyu raises an eyebrow. “…By staying?”

That hits. Chaeyoung falters. “That’s not—what—”

Tzuyu leans in just slightly, voice softer now—but sharper. “You stayed the whole time.” Silence swallowed them. The elevator suddenly feels very small. “…You didn’t hate it that much.”

Chaeyoung’s breath catches. “I—did!”

“Then why didn’t you leave?” Tzuyu asks, almost gently.

Chaeyoung opens her mouth—Nothing comes out. Tzuyu watches her. Waiting. And for a second—Chaeyoung doesn’t have a defense. The elevator hums quietly around them. They’re standing closer now. Too close. Chaeyoung can feel it—her pulse, the tension, the heat creeping up her neck. “…You’re messing with me,” she mutters weakly.

Tzuyu smiles. “Maybe.” A beat. Then—”…Or maybe I’m just right.”

Chaeyoung looks up. And that’s the mistake. Because now—Tzuyu is right there. Close enough that Chaeyoung can see the tiny details in her expression. Close enough that her brain just—short circuits.

Tzuyu doesn’t move. But she doesn’t pull away either. Her gaze flicks—just briefly—to Chaeyoung’s lips. Then back up. That’s it. That’s all it takes. Chaeyoung freezes. Heart pounding.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

For half a second—neither of them moves. And it feels like—something’s about to happen. Then—

DING.

The elevator doors slide open. Reality crashes back in. Chaeyoung jerks back immediately like she’s been electrocuted. “Oh my god,” she mutters under her breath.

Tzuyu just smiles. Like nothing happened. Like she didn’t just—

Chaeyoung starts to step out quickly, trying to escape—

“Wait.”

Tzuyu stops her. Of course she does. Chaeyoung closes her eyes for a second. What now…. She turns back slowly. Tzuyu tilts her head, suddenly softer—almost sweet. “Actually… I have something for you.”

Chaeyoung blinks. “…What?”

Tzuyu reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, really tiny gift bag with a bit of stuffing paper sticking out it. She holds it out. “Here.”

Chaeyoung hesitates—then takes it. “…Okay….”

“Open it when you get to your cubicle,” Tzuyu adds lightly.

Then she leans in—just enough—and whispers: “It’s a thank-you gift… for being a pretty good mentor.”

Chaeyoung’s brain short-circuits again. Her face goes completely red. She doesn’t even get a word out before Tzuyu straightens up—and walks away. Like nothing happened.

Chaeyoung just stands there. Frozen, holding it in awe. “…What the fuck?”

She snaps out of it and hurries toward her cubicle, clutching the gift, glancing over her shoulder like she just got set up in a crime. What is wrong with this girl??

She drops into her chair when she finally makes it. Her hearts racing. She glances around. It’s empty. Good. Mina and nayeon aren’t back yet. She has a bit off privacy. Her eyes slowly move to the bag. She opens it. Reaches inside. And then feels something soft. She freezes.

“…What the fuck is this?”

Chaeyoung pulls it out. And immediately—regrets everything. It’s Pink. Lace. Panties. Her hand jerks back like she’s been burned. She shoves it back into the little bag so fast it almost flies across the room. “What the fuck? What the fuck is this?!” she hisses, voice shaking.

Her pulse is racing. Her brain is screaming. There is no way. There is NO way. She grabs the tiny bag and shoves it under her desk like it’s illegal.

“Fuck—fuck—what the fuck—”

Her hands press against her chest, trying to steady her breathing. This girl is insane. Actually insane.

“…What the hell is wrong with her!?”