And it was dark, and the stars were littered in the sky like freckles — or moles — and the imagery of it all was just… poetically beautiful. At seventeen, Nayeon realized that she's fallen too deep with the island life. She looked at where Mina stood, smiling at the sea. (And maybe, just maybe, everything that comes with it.)

The thing knocks at the back of her head relentlessly. Nayeon thinks about it for a second before she opens the door, welcoming it with a side-eye and a groan, and finally allowing herself to melt in a long-overdue acknowledgement. I'm in love with Myoui Mina.