“Noona, can you tell your boyfriend to stop texting you?” Jungkook grumbles from her bed.

Kyungha continues to practice suturing on her millionth banana, ignoring Jungkook. She’s been practicing day and night, vowing never to be embarrassed by her absolute horrid skills. Her heart races when she’s down to the last few sutures.

“Noona, ew! He sent you a picture of his ,” Jungkook complains obnoxiously.

Her jaw ticks in annoyance when she accidentally pulls too hard on the string, tearing the skin of the banana. “No, he didn’t,” she snaps indignantly.

Her nephew blows a raspberry. “Did so!”

Kyungha slaps a hand on her face. “Jungkook, what are you even doing on my phone?”

He makes a face. “I’m playing Minecraft, you uncultured swine.”

She cracks her knuckles and inches closer to the younger. His eyes widen and he lets out a girly shriek, immediately clasping his mouth after he realizes what he’d just done. She launches onto him, sticking her fingers in his ribs. He continues to struggle and scream in her ear. “Jungkook, why don’t you tell me what you just said one more time?”

Jungkook shakes his head with tear-stricken eyes. “I didn’t say anything!” She finally lets him go after a long torturous minute. He gulps in the air with a grateful look.

Kyungha opens her palm, nudging her head in the direction of her phone. Jungkook sulks a little, dropping her phone into her palm. He hangs his head. She rolls her eyes and checks her texts.

She drops an audible gasp, glancing between her phone and Jungkook with frantic precision. Her nephew throws her an I-told-you-so look. “Don’t tell Kyungsoo.”

Jungkook harrumphs, “and why should I do that?”

Kyungha lifts a brow. “Oh? Should I tell him that I saw hub on your web browser’s history?”

She watches the color drain out of his face. He smiles weakly before holding out a pinky. “Deal.”

They exchange a pinky promise. “Now get out, you rascal.”

Jungkook doesn’t need any more initiative because he jumps to his feet. “Noona, tell your boyfriend his weenie is small!” After sticking his tongue out theatrically, he dashes out of her room.

Kyungha heaves a sigh, quickly glancing down at her phone.

WHY

What do u mean

You know WHAT

Are the caps really necessary

It feels a lot like you’re yelling at me

YES

Jungkook saw your

!!

Oh sweetheart

That’s definitely not my

I can assure you that I have an extremely nice one

Except nobody asked

I just thought you would think it was cool

Isn’t this illegal

Doesn’t HIPPAA have something where you’re supposed to protect your patient’s privacy

Huh

I guess wanting to talk to you trumps that

Unbelievable

I’m bored sweetheart. Jongdae’s having a baby shower and he just had to invite all the trauma doctors

I have to cover for him

Shouldn’t you be working and not sending me pics

I thought you would have a better sense of humor

Oh excuse me.

Haha

You’re so cute. I miss you

Her heart is pounding. It should not be pounding. She lays back on her back, staring at the ceiling. Did she want to see him? Not really. She definitely didn’t have the desire to see him. Well, maybe she did want to see his ridiculous smile whenever she rebuffed him for his antics.

But that wasn’t the point.

Kyungha shouldn’t be feeling anything. She’s never had a crush on anyone. And was this a crush? Oh, hell no. Definitely not a crush. But she’s never felt those supposed symptoms.

Butterflies in her stomach? She only felt that way when Physics made sense or when she wrote perfect Taylor polynomials. Flushing? She’d only felt that way when Kyungsoo forced the entire family to have a picnic in hundred-degree weather. Her heart racing? Never for a human, but she knows she can’t count the times her heart had sped up when she watched surgery footage.

The point is, Sehun falls into those categories. He makes her uncertain about her every decision. He makes her feel like she’s a different person.

He gives her butterflies when he randomly texts her at 3 in the morning. Like when he texted her about his thoughts regarding how pretty she'd looked in her new jeans—like the man actually had a say in what she wore.

He makes her flush when he blows her mind with surgical stories. He’d recall the time a man came in with a thick nail lodged in his eye socket. She felt like a little girl, one who craved for these anecdotes like a child that craved bedtime stories. She craved his voice, the slight huskiness he coveted at night or early mornings when he found time to call her.

He makes her heart race more often than she’d like to admit. Her heart definitely didn’t race just now when he told her he’d wanted to see her.

And Kyungha definitely didn’t have a crush on him. Crushes were for little girls, and she wasn’t one.

Kyungsoo and Jongin had a routine. They had romantic dinners biweekly. Something about keeping the chemistry alive or some bull like that. Kyungha was tacked on with an unwelcome babysitting gig and her brother got a night of sweet nothings and .

Today was one of those days. Kyungha would be damned if she was forced to cook on a regular basis. The girl couldn’t distinguish between a pot and a pan. The first time she had to cook for herself, she’d accidentally sliced her palm, and there’s still a faded silvery scar as proof.

Jungkook, only nine at this time, took it upon himself to take over the kitchen. He clearly stated that he’d rather not have nightmares about Kyungha accidentally burning the house down, which makes sense. She didn’t argue about it, and everyone who knew her called her a smartass.

Unfortunately, today was also the day Jungkook decided to sleep over at his friend’s. The boy had friends. Boy, he came a long way.

Kyungha chews on her lips as she scrolls through UberEats ubiquitously. Another horrible trait she had was indecisiveness. Her stomach growled as she desperately tried to make up her mind.

In another minute or so, she finally thinks she’s made a decent choice, but her phone buzzes with a text from Sehun.

What are you doing

Minding my own business

You?

Ouch

And here I thought you caved

Hey I actually laughed this time

What’s your plans for dinner

I have a date with Dr. Mike and takeout

I have a better idea

Let me take you out sweetheart

I’m good

I insist

I persist

Come on

I know Jongin and Kyungsoo won’t be back

I need to watch Jungkook

Liar

Jungkook texted me to save you from your own cooking

Little er

So what do you say

Huh

I get a choice?

In a half-hour, Kyungha finds herself sitting in Sehun’s car as they drive off to who knows where he has planned.

“So,” he begins brightly.

Kyungha focuses on traffic lights. “Yes?”

“How was your day?”

She counts the lines on her palm. “It only took me 15 seconds to suture a banana,” she answers uninterestingly.

He laughs incredulously. “You’re one of a kind, Do Kyungha.”

“Thanks.”

They let a comfortable silence fall between them. Sehun drums his fingers on the wheel. Kyungha listens to the rhythm. It isn’t in any particular order. It’s weird and offbeat. She frowns. “Can you cut it out?”

Sehun hums, “cut what out?”

“The thrumming of your fingers. It’s bothersome.”

She hears him shift in his seat. “Sorry, it’s a force of habit.”

“How do you tap randomly? Doesn't that bother you? I heard doctors were perfectionists.”

He snorts, “if we had the luxury to, maybe.” Then, his voice suddenly grows quiet. “It’s not random.”

Kyungha tilts her head, finally turning to glance at him. His car slows at the stoplight, and as if he senses her eyes on him, he turns to meet her gaze. Barely illuminated by the exterior lights, his brown eyes look almost black to her.

She shivers, having no idea where that came from.

“It helps me focus,” he murmurs, eyes finally returning back to his normal playfulness. Kyungha blinks, wondering if she imagined it.

She’s no longer interested in finding out why he needed to focus in the first place. She’s content, pretending that he’s just an eccentric person.

Kyungha follows Sehun out of his car. He’s taken her to what looks like an American diner. The name of the place is lit by neon lights. The building is vintage with metal exteriors and inside, the floors are checkerboard. The air smells like burger meat. There are red booth seats against the wall and metal circular tables that fill up the remaining space. The space is lit by dark purple lights.

There’s a typical countertop where the bar is, leading back to the kitchen. The place is almost filled to the brim with people. Families bustle around. A mother tries to dump leftovers into to-go plastic containers as her toddler clings to her leg.

The hostess near the entrance of where they just came in smiles toward them. “Hi, welcome to Jack’s Burgers and Malts. How many?”

Sehun puts an arm around her shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for them. Kyungha sends him a dirty look that he blatantly ignores. “Just two,” he answers politely, holding up two fingers as reference.

The hostess nods and leads them to a booth in the very back. “Someone will be right with you cuties,” she informs, dropping their menus off.

Kyungha and Sehun sit across from each other. It’s darker in the back of the room, so she can’t make out his expression well, but by now, she’s familiar with his actions enough to assume that he’s staring into her soul as usual.

“What’s the story?” She asks, trying to break the ice.

Sehun blinks. “The story of what?”

“This place,” she answers, gesturing around her. “I’m guessing you didn’t just come here on a whim.”

His eyes flash with understanding, and he shakes his head. “You know how everyone has that place? This is where I go when I crave comfort food. Jongdae and I used to always come here when we started residency, and I just never stopped.”

Kyungha begins to sweat. She doesn’t like the way his eyes grow affectionate when he speaks about his past. Her heart races, and she clenches onto the red leather underneath her. “I haven’t lived long enough for that,” she says casually, trying to continue the conversation—something she wasn’t very good at. In-person. Not to mention, with the person she swore she'd never fraternized with.

Before he can think of what to say, a waitress stops by their table with a friendly smile. “Sehun? You’re not here alone today?” She asks, her eyes gleaming with sparkles.

"This is Jude. Apparently, she says I come here all the time,” Sehun jokes.

Jude nudges him gently. “Because you do! You're obsessed, Sehun. Our shakes are really good, honey. You should definitely try the salted caramel. It’s pure .”

Kyungha doesn't realize she’s squeezing her fingers tight in a fist until she feels them go numb. Jude doesn’t look very much older than her. She looks to be in her early twenties, but she’s calling Kyungha honey. She may be reading too much into this, but Jude definitely has an ulterior motive. She’s managed to micromanage Kyungha by treating her like a child and describing her personal recommendation with the word .

Of course, Jude seems like a nice person. Kyungha didn’t know enough about her to make a judgment, neither did she care. So what if the girl had done all of the things she nitpicked? It wasn’t like Kyungha was jealous or anything.

Sehun is oblivious to Jude’s obvious flirting. Kyungha can’t help but hope he’s doing it on purpose, but then, she’s horrified at herself for having that thought in the first place.

Jude eventually takes their order and leaves and Kyungha thinks, finally, in exasperation which further horrifies her.

“What were we talking about again?” Sehun asks after a beat of awkward silence.

Kyungha looks at him again, and it makes her heart feel uncomfortably tight. “Nothing important.”

He clears his throat. He must be wishing he was here with someone who could actually hold a conversation rather than recite the digits of Pi for entertainment. “Anyway, you're turning seventeen in December right?’

Kyungha nods nimbly. “I feel…old.”

Sehun waves his hand dismissively. “Old? Sweetheart, I’m twenty-nine.” And there it is. The only fact that truly makes Kyungha feel disappointed. Wait. What? Why would she feel disappointed?

She’s going insane, and it’s most likely correlated with the time she spends with Oh Sehun.

“Christ, you’re old.”

“I know—argh—where did the times go? I can’t believe I’m turning thirty soon,” he questions. Kyungha is distracted by the biceps peeking from his sleeve when he scratches his nape sheepishly. Her eyes wander to his collarbone. She swallows.

“You’re showing your age by what you just said,” she deadpans after snapping out of her trance.

Sehun grins, “don't you think I look hot though?”

Kyungha is faced with an unexpected question. She has two choices: lie or lie. She chooses to lie. “I can’t tell,” she blurts because straight up saying no is too obvious.

He blows a raspberry. “Listen, you know how people say Asians don’t age? Well. I think I’m the shining example of the saying. Look at me, I’m still game. Besides, I won’t be shriveling up like walnut any time soon. I have a few more good years in me. I can just feel it.”

“Hmm, I think you’re being a little too optimistic.”

“Better than being the opposite. Do Kyungha. Pessimist. Sounds exactly the same to me. Why didn’t your mom just name you that? We could’ve easily given you the nickname pest too. It’s a shame. Really.”

Kyungha smiles because he’s funny. She’ll give him that. Sehun looks absolutely delighted by the appearance of her smile. She’s definitely never smiling in front of him again.

“You look so much like your age when you smile. Why do you never smile, sweetheart?” He probably meant it to be rhetoric.

But Kyungha decides to answer anyway, “I do smile.”

“Oh yeah?” Sehun teases.

She bites the bait. “You’re just never there at the right time, Hoon.” For the hell of it, she offers him her most genuine smile—the one he’s never seen before. She only wanted to see how he would react. His teasing was irately contagious.

In the span of seconds, Sehun becomes scarily close to her. She can feel his breath hit her face. His eyes grow darker, and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the minuscule distance between them or because of some other reasons.

“Double cheeseburger, no pickles?” The familiar high-pitched voice breaks their bubble. Kyungha backs away like she’s been burnt by acid. Sehun does the same, and it’s the first time she’s seen him look so off-guard and not his usual put-together self.

Jude smiles at both of them, dropping the respective plates off in front of the two. “Enjoy your food, guys.”

Kyungha pretends everything is okay, and her heart wasn’t just threatening to break out of her ribcage. She picks at her fries.

“Fries or onion rings?” Sehun asks.

She rolls her eyes and throws one of her french fries at him, hitting him square in the forehead. He gasps, holding a hand to his chest.

“You barbarian.”

“Don’t ask dumb questions.”

He chuckles adoringly. “So you’ll answer if I ask smarter questions?”

She hums in response, “I never said that.”

Sehun wiggles his eyebrows. “But you never said otherwise, eh?”

“Touché.”

He sticks his tongue out, and Kyungha doesn't believe she’s conversing with a man in his late twenties; rather, a teenager would make more sense. “Red or blue?” He asks after taking a gigantic bite if his burger.

“Purple,” she answers, reaching for a tissue and wiping the residue of sauce off the corner of his lips.

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Ridiculous.”

“Shower or bath?”

“Shower, duh. I’m a doctor.”

Kyungha snorts, “okay, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means there is a smarter choice when you come home from a twenty-six-hour shift. More sleep or a stupid bubble bath?”

She scoffs, “I hope you choose the stupid bubble bath.”

“And why is that?”

“So you can drown in it, duh.”

“Cool, I’ll do just that.”

“Just like that? No protest?”

“No need. You can give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

Kyungha bites into her grilled cheese. “I’d rather just let you drown if I’m being honest.”

Sehun and Kyungha finish dinner, and the best part? Kyungha doesn't feel like tearing her hair out.

Jude stops by with the cheque after Sehun asks her for it. “How was everything?”

Kyungha smiles stoically, replying with a half-hearted good.

Sehun snorts, “she means it’s delicious. Thank you for everything, Jude.”

Jude beams. “Of course! I’m glad y’all enjoyed the food. And Sehun—dude—I didn't know you were into fresh faces.”

Kyungha narrows her eyes, and Sehun laughs awkwardly. “She’s a friend, Jude. I’d never cheat on you. Who do you take me for?”

Friend. Kyungha doesn't know why the word feels so unsatisfying, but she doesn't want to find out.

The drive to her house is silent. She’s mainly exhausted from their playful banters and the filling food. Sehun doesn’t ask her any more questions, sensing that she’s past her limit of social interaction.

Kyungha yawns and the car stops by her curb. “Thank you for tonight,” she tells him, sleep laced.

Sehun is all smiles. “It's nothing, sweetheart. Get some sleep. Don’t stay up reading those textbooks all night.”

She grunts, “says the person who texts at ungodly hours and gets butthurt when I don’t text back.”

He laughs haughtily. “I don’t know that person.”

Kyungha flips him off, ignoring his friendly goodbye wave. When he’s out of sight, a smile makes its way onto her face.

What an idiot. And the only difference is that she can’t decipher if she’s talking about herself or Sehun.