“It’s almost like you want to be punished, unnie.”

Nayeon drinks it in, the exasperation that rolls off Mina’s tongue, the way her jaw ticks, the way her eyebrows furrow, the firm hold on her collar.

Nayeon relishes in it, the fondness in her gaze, the hand splayed possessively over her thigh, the breath of space between them.

Nayeon almost gives in, right then, melts into Mina’s touch and the look in her eyes and the way she holds her. But not until she gets what she wants.

Instead, she smiles, flutters her eyelashes and presses in a little closer.