“Miyeon…”

Yuqi sighs while attempting to button up her blouse. The sulky-faced bunny hybrid (well, not so much a bunny anymore now that they’re both adults on the cusp of their twenties), however, remains glued to her owner’s back; arms firmly locked around the Han girl’s waist as her face stays planted in the dip between Yuqi’s neck and shoulder.

From this position, Miyeon nuzzles further into the crisp white fabric that came straight from the fresh laundry and takes a long whiff of it to breathe in Yuqi’s natural scent.

“Seriously, bunny, I’m gonna miss the train if you keep hogging me like this. How can I make a good first impression at work if I end up being late, huh?”

All the half-hearted yet fond grumbles do nothing to dissuade Miyeon in the slightest. If anything, it only encourages her to embrace Yuqi more tightly as her tall brown ears lay flat against her skull. Yuqi responds to this by rolling her eyes, slightly exasperated but no less fond of Miyeon’s clinginess lately.

Before Yuqi had gotten her cotton-tailed companion as a gift on her tenth birthday, her father mentioned that bunny hybrids are very affectionate and loving companions who can be comparatively needy to felines. Yuqi, back in the stubborn childishness of her youth, didn’t mind that last part too much since she absolutely refused to take in a cat hybrid like Soojin (aka, her friend Soyeon’s partner from Hell) who almost clawed Yuqi’s eyes out for simply tackling her unnie into a bear hug when she came over to Soyeon’s house for a school project.

Back then, Miyeon had been a fairly small and timid bunny two years her senior – frailer too. Even more so with those long ear appendages that stood out on her head and looked way bigger for someone her stature. This, along with her soft caramel eyes that always seemed to be alight with wonder and curiosity at the world, further reinforced the hybrid’s dainty and harmless appearance.

Indeed, Yuqi had – and still – found Miyeon extremely pretty.

If only she knew how a seemingly innocent-looking bunny could be such a pain in the , sometimes. (Miyeon has no idea, none, how special she is for Yuqi to seldomly be upset with her in the past twelve years they’ve been living together. And frankly, it should stay that way.)

Yuqi narrows her eyes at Miyeon’s reflection in the full-length mirror, but her bratty companion merely stares back with the cutest pout adorning her lips.

Lord, give me strength.

No matter how much Yuqi wants to scold Miyeon for her stubbornness or even show the slightest bit of irritation towards her, she just can’t bring herself to. Maybe it would’ve been easier if Miyeon had been a cat. Perhaps then, Yuqi wouldn’t have to fall for those dreaded “pity eyes” that never failed to pull at her heartstrings. Seeing them only made the younger girl more inclined to go above and beyond her way to make Miyeon happy, even if doing so comes at the expense of her wallet and having to eat street food for an entire week.

That’s not to say Miyeon is high-maintenance or the demanding type. Rather, it’s because Yuqi loves spoiling her companion and seeing her smile – not that she’d ever admit this out loud.

Speaking of cats, though…

“You better not be thinking about trading me away for a cat again, Yuqi.” Miyeon pouts harder at the smirk on her owner’s face and gives a playful slap to Yuqi’s hip.

Grunting, the Han girl wears a mostly neutral expression as she fixes her shirt collar before rolling the sleeves up to her elbows. There, perfect.

“Was I too obvious?” Yuqi teases, a nonchalant smile playing on her lips.

Huffing indignantly, Miyeon removes herself from Yuqi’s back to fold her arms on her chest and give the human a glare. One furry ear is facing forward while the other is faced backwards. A milder sign of displeasure in a bunny’s body language, but nothing to be worried about.

“Yes, you were, and I won’t allow it! You belong to me and only me.” Miyeon declares with an air of haughtiness fit for a spoiled princess, which isn’t far from the truth given how Yuqi treats her like one.

Yuqi tries to smile at Miyeon’s cockiness, but ultimately fails when she replies with feigned disappointment. “Alright, alright, fine.”

Miyeon picks up on it, though, and immediately plasters herself into Yuqi’s side again. She struggles to control the flutter or something more than fondness in her heart while trying to hug the absolute life out of her favorite human.

“Time to go, Yuqi! You don’t wanna be late for work now, do you?” Yuqi’s father calls from the kitchen area.

Miyeon watches in amusement as Yuqi swears out loud (“I heard that, young lady! Mind your language!” Mr. Song scolds his daughter) before scampering out of her bedroom. The bunny hums and follows after her, a small skip in her step as she slides into her usual seat at the dining table right when the front door slams shut.

Mr. Song serves her a plate of vegan sausages with a side of hash browns and scrambled eggs, along with a tall glass of pineapple juice.

“Miyeon, dear, you can’t keep making Yuqi late like before. She’s working already, and you know how serious she is about it.” He chides gently, but enough to get his point across.

Frowning, Miyeon ducks her head guiltily as she takes a bite of the plant-based meat. Her bunny ears have drooped backwards on her head with their openings faced down. One disadvantage of having extra appendages is that people can read your emotions a lot easier and tell what you’re feeling. It doesn’t help that Miyeon has little to no control over the physical traits of her animal counterpart – among other things concerning her biology.

“I know, appa. I’m sorry.” She mumbles, feeling a bit ashamed.

With a soft sigh, the man just tousles her hair affectionately. Mindful of Miyeon’s sensitive ears as he gives her a fatherly smile.

“It’s alright, Miyeon. I know you’re very attached to Yuqi and how much you miss her whenever she’s gone, but you’ll have plenty of time together as soon as she comes home.” He assures her with his typical optimism not too different from Yuqi’s. Like father, like daughter, as one might say. “Now, how about we open up the bakery once you’re done eating, hm?”

Ears perking up to reflect her excitement, Miyeon nods and eagerly scarfs down her meal with a pleased smile.

Ah, this is the good life.

᠁

If Miyeon were to be honest; being a hybrid isn’t the best thing ever. In fact, she often finds herself envious of Yuqi’s normal life as a human. The younger girl doesn’t have to deal with protruding sets of animal ears or bushy tails, heavy horns or even large wings that tend to get in the way, most of which must be groomed or maintained regularly to avoid certain drawbacks.

And even though hybrids look ninety-nine-percent human, they’re usually not treated as such in most spaces.

Back then, it used to be awful living as a hybrid. These individuals were originally owned like status symbols or trophies for the wealthy and powerful, used as lowly servants who were always at the beck and call of their superiors bossing them around, or even treated as forms of entertainment like circus animals performing for crowds who would make fun of them.

In worst cases, other hybrids were unfortunate enough to be used in illegal sports and trafficking; or forced into unforgiving labor work with little to no protection and being heavily under-paid. The more undesirable ones were dumped into ramshackle shelters barely funded by the government, while the sickly ones were simply left to starve and die in the cold or sweltering streets.

Luckily, Miyeon had ended up in a somewhat dilapidated but spacious orphanage after being taken away from the overrun shelter she was born in. Scared, alone, and starving most of the time. Although things have gotten much better for the hybrids now, it was still hard living as one during those times. But then, the Songs came in with kind smiles and welcoming arms that Miyeon didn’t think she deserved.

The bunny had been so fragile and weak – the spindly runt of the makeshift litter in their run-down orphanage – with huge ears that were much too big on her and was constantly pulled on by the bigger, meaner kids and the strict custodians. Even so, these two didn’t turn away from her.

Just the mere feeling of being accepted and not judged, of simply being noticed and treated with such unconditional love she’d never thought existed before, felt so unreal… and so nice.

The Song duo were a lot younger back then with Yuqi being a literal child whose heart was bigger than her body. In fact, it was Yuqi who chose Miyeon while Mr. Song took care of the hybrid’s adoption papers. That day, Miyeon was told that she’s a part of their family now and not just some pet to get rid of once they’ve gotten bored of her. Mr. Song promised to love her like his own daughter, and Yuqi vowed to be her best friend and most loyal companion for life.

But even if they don’t consider her a pet, Miyeon still sees Yuqi as her owner. Someone she wants to spend her entire lifetime with, to protect and give all of herself to.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for Miyeon to start falling in love with the Chinese girl. Stricken with a love-bug for this human energy pill whose smile was like the radiance of a sunshine, whose laugh was like the sun itself playing over wind-ruffled oceans, and whose deep voice rose and fell like the Roman Empire whenever she sang with Miyeon during their cozy guitar sessions together.

Lately, however, Miyeon feels like she doesn’t get to be around Yuqi as much as she used to. Especially now that Yuqi has a job, and Miyeon stopped attending school once she turned sixteen.

It’s only mandatory for hybrids to receive education up until junior high, at least, so Miyeon opted not to pursue any academic strand and settled on working at the family’s bakery ever since. Mr. Song needed an extra hand, anyway.

But as much as she loves the whole pastry-making and baking process, Miyeon couldn’t help the nagging thought that maybe it had been a mistake a few years ago.

In senior high, she could no longer walk with Yuqi to school and attend classes with her, nor could she do homework and study for exams at the library together like they used to. In college (the most difficult and challenging period for Miyeon yet), Yuqi’s schedule wasn’t fixed and had often had different time tables. During her last couple of years at the university, she even had to stay late on campus till nighttime for her evening classes. Miyeon would linger on the sofa of their living room, waiting rather impatiently for the minutes to tick away until Yuqi finally arrived home, and would glomp on the unsuspecting girl as soon as Yuqi stepped foot into the foyer.

(Despite her best efforts to balance them both, Yuqi would find herself sprawled across the floor with a beaming Miyeon cushioned on top of her like the troublemaking bunny she is.)

Before long, Miyeon had lost count of all the times her ears flattened in displeasure or when her tail would wag irritably each time Yuqi arrived home smelling like espresso beans mixed with strong cologne. A tell-tale sign that Yuqi had gone on a late-night study and cram session at the campus cafe with her guy friends. Namely, Lucas, Felix, and Taehyung.

Today, the bakery is packed as usual during the 5PM flash sale. Mr. Song likes to joke that it’s because Miyeon is too cute for patrons to resist, though it’s actually the discounted pastries and bread these people are coming in for.

But all the hybrid can focus on right now is how Yuqi – who just came back from work less than an hour ago – is surrounded by some of her old friends and blockmates from college, particularly boys.

Sure, there are other girls too. Like Yiren, Yuqi’s Mandarin-speaking best friend since diapers. Yeji, her co-captain back in their university’s dance crew. And Sua, from the girls’ volleyball varsity team in high school. Except this doesn’t ease the churning inside Miyeon’s gut as her eye twitches when one girl leans into Yuqi while laughing, the two of them sitting in a proximity that is way too close for the bunny’s comfort.

She knows how much of a social butterfly Yuqi is, collecting friends left and right like catching Pokémon in the wild, but Miyeon has been waiting for her all day!

A grunt escapes her lips as her foot thumps against the hardwood floor, fast and annoyed.

“Miyeon-unnie,” A soft voice cracks from behind her, sounding amused.

Said girl whips her head around and relaxes upon seeing that it’s just her fellow hybrid co-worker, Soojin. The feline leans on the counter next to Miyeon, chin propped in her hand as she blatantly observes Yuqi’s big group of friends (just friends, Miyeon has to remind herself) sitting together at the conjoined tables by their corner.

“Are you okay? You seem a little tense.” Soojin points out with a knowing look.

A blush creeps its way onto Miyeon’s cheeks. “Tense? I don’t know what that word means.” She bluffs with a sheepish laugh that sounds forced.

Soojin merely hums, a pointed ear flicking slightly as her fluffy black tail curls at the tip. Miyeon is honestly intimidated by Soojin, sometimes, because it feels like the cat hybrid knows something she doesn’t (which happens a lot more than she likes to admit) but refuses to tell her since:

1. Soojin thinks that Miyeon is too dense for her own good and should therefore figure it out herself, and
2. She’s just plain mischievous in her own subtle ways.

“You know, Shuhua ran away once when Minnie-unnie started spending less time with her.” Soojin digresses from their earlier conversation. “She was only gone for a few hours, but it scared Minnie-unnie so much that she eventually placed a tracker on Shuhua’s collar.”

Ah, yes. Miyeon can still vividly recall that day when she and the girls scoured every street and corner of their district to track down the runaway wolf-dog hybrid, until Soyeon managed to find Shuhua curled up under the bridge of a distant park. Dejected and alone as she sat on the rocks with her feet tucked away from the flowing spring water; ears lowered and her fuzzy tail absently sweeping the grass behind her.

Miyeon remembers how relieved Minnie was upon finding their maknae and how quickly she yanked her canine companion into a rib-crushing embrace, sobbing out a slew of apologies and promises to pay more attention to her next time, while Shuhua just awkwardly patted her back before nuzzling Minnie’s neck to stop her owner’s tears. Stunned and a bit confused, but delighted nonetheless.

Stressful as it had been, the effort was worth seeing the two reconcile and work out a compromise that fits well for them – one that addresses both their needs while also ensuring that neither of them feels neglected or ignored. Nowadays, Miyeon can’t be any happier (though, admittedly, a tad jealous) to see Minnie and Shuhua enjoying each other’s company whenever they’re spending time together.

The bunny rings up another customer while trying very hard to ignore the sound of Yuqi’s endearing laughter from across the bakery. The loveable idiot only said hi to her since entering the establishment alongside her friends. Granted, Miyeon had been busy manning the cashier due to the influx of people lining up at that time, so maybe Yuqi didn’t want to disturb her. But still!

“What point are you getting at, Soo?”

Soojin shrugs, only to then lightly hit Miyeon’s leg with her cat tail as she goes to get the customer’s order ready. Why are people ordering so many cronuts today? It’s dinner time. This doesn’t seem like a very good dinner.

“I’m just saying, unnie. If you really want Yuqi’s attention, you gotta do something. That’s all.” The younger hybrid states casually when she walks past her.

Miyeon bids the nice ahjumma goodbye with a pleasant smile. But when she finally faces the nonchalant-looking Soojin, her expression drops. “I know you mean well, Soo, but I’m fine. Seriously.” She insists.

Soojin, of course, doesn’t buy it.

“Bunny hybrids bond closely with their owners and are easily jealous when they’re not given enough or equal attention. This includes, but isn't limited to, spending more time with another human or hybrid.” Soojin recites flawlessly.

Miyeon turns a shade pink in the face. “Do you just… know random facts about any hybrid?”

Looking rather cheeky, Soojin moves to rearrange the display case so there wouldn’t be any empty spaces between the pastries and other baked goods.

“No, I just learned them from school. You would’ve known more if you finished senior high, at least.” She huffs, twisting on her heel to flick Miyeon on the forehead. The elder whines as she rubs on the spot, pouting like she had been wrongly scolded.

“But I like doing this better!”

“Oh, please. You and I both know that you just like eating the stuff here for free.”

Well, Miyeon certainly can’t deny that.

“That’s also true.” She admits with a brazen grin, about to go into the back kitchen so she can refill the empty trays with a new batch of coffee buns and cinnamon rolls. But before she does, Miyeon spares a glance in Yuqi’s direction.

The Han girl is still all smiles and hearty laughter with her peers. And the longer Miyeon stares at her, the more she swears that she can see a hint of a blush on Yuqi’s cheeks. A growl rumbles deep in Miyeon’s throat at the sight.

Watching the scene unfold before her, Soojin lets out a sigh while shaking her head.

With this kind of possessive behavior, Miyeon could surely pass off as a cat hybrid instead. Soojin would know. She’s the same way with her Soyeonnie, after all. Just ask Yuqi.

᠁

It’s Friday night, and Yuqi can hardly watch her movie or even enjoy it properly. Not when Miyeon is squishing her into the sofa cushions after she so graciously dropped herself on top of her lounging form without any warning whatsoever.

She had planned a quiet evening to relax and unwind from work. But now, that isn’t possible – and Yuqi would like to point out that it was totally Miyeon’s fault.

In hindsight, she should’ve known this would happen the moment they rescheduled their family night-out to a different date because Miyeon changed her mind at the last minute. Yuqi thinks it’s because her dad intended on taking them out to dinner at a high-end restaurant downtown, and she knew all the condescending looks the hybrid would get from the humans there.

Frankly, Yuqi didn't mind staying home and stuffing her face with greasy fried chicken while Top Gun plays on the TV. And she certainly didn’t mind spending the evening with Miyeon alone as company since her dad went out himself to meet his old friends at their favorite bar.

But what would it take for a girl to watch her movie in peace?

“Miyeon, for Christ’s sake. You’re crushing me.”

Yuqi grunts, her voice an octave lower as if to try and intimidate Miyeon while she pushes away the annoying bunny ears that keep flapping back into her face to no avail. Miyeon, however, only laughs at her feeble attempts and obvious struggle. What a rascal.

That does it—!

In a matter of seconds, Yuqi swiftly yet carefully flips the hybrid onto her back – mindful not to overdo it, lest they end up toppling off the sofa – and pins Miyeon’s hands down by either side of her head. With her fingers clasped firmly around Miyeon’s wrists, Yuqi takes a deep breath after being robbed of air from the pressing weight of another body and observes her squirming companion below.

It makes sense that most (if not all) hybrids are naturally stronger and have better, more improved senses compared to normal humans, but Miyeon is an exception in terms of physical strength. No one has ever taught her how to fight as a baby bunny, nor did she use her defensive instincts as much as a prey species since being adopted by the Songs and taken out of her hostile environment. Besides, Miyeon was never a fan of exercising as regularly as Yuqi.

“Ah! Yuqi!” Miyeon whines, writhing beneath her owner as her ears twitch. Blinking, Yuqi looks on in amusement when the older girl tries to shove her off. It’s a useless attempt, though. Yuqi has the upper hand and, oh, she’s going to enjoy this while it lasts.

“You were asking for it, bunny.” She grins, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Now face the consequences!”

Without even thinking, Yuqi proceeds to glide her fingertips along Miyeon’s bare side. A sliver of skin has been exposed from her shirt riding up after being flipped over. Miyeon only ever wears loose shirts over equally loose shorts (her excuse being that she doesn’t like clothes that are “too restrictive”), so Yuqi decides to take advantage of this by lightly adding pressure on the hybrid’s sensitive spots.

The response is immediate. Miyeon bursts into full-bellied laughter and squirms even more under Yuqi, trying to escape her tickle attack without any success.

“Y-Yah! Quit it, Yuqi!” Miyeon giggles as she presses her palms against the human’s shoulders to push her off. Again, no luck.

Something foreign stirs up in Yuqi’s stomach at this. It can’t be indigestion. She doesn’t feel any pain or discomfort at all.

But as Yuqi looks down at the bundle of precious laughs below her, the feeling only intensifies. Miyeon’s entire face is flushed a delightful shade of pink, her cheeks being a more flattering tint of rose when she stares up at Yuqi with her mussed hair and sparkling eyes. Yuqi meets her companion’s heart-stopping gaze with her own flustered one, lips parted as if her breath had been suddenly taken away.

Was Miyeon always this beautiful up-close?

“Yuqi…?”

Miyeon’s voice is softer this time, along with her caramel eyes that are regarding her with concern – and something more.

Yuqi isn’t sure, but every nerve in her body screams at her to kiss Miyeon. Her heart is pounding frantically against her ribcage, yelling at her to just lean down and shower the hybrid with all the love she can possibly offer. To scatter soft kisses along Miyeon’s peach-toned skin and indulge in every part of her, to hold the bunny close in her arms and never let her go.

It’s a strange, inexplicable urge that is shamelessly intimate. And yet, it just feels so right. Like it’s natural for her to simply love Miyeon.

However, Yuqi only swallows down the thickness in before stumbling backwards to the other end of the sofa. Flat on her and with her hands clenched at the sides.

“I-I just remembered that I haven’t showered yet.” Yuqi hastily blurts out, scrambling to her feet and dashing straight for the bathroom so she can splash some cold water to her face.

The sudden loss of warm contact makes Miyeon feel even colder as she slowly sits up with her head tilted in confusion. The phantom sensation of Yuqi’s fingers on her skin, coupled with the way Yuqi stared at her earlier, left Miyeon aching for something she can’t quite put a name on.

᠁

Ever since that night, Yuqi has been actively avoiding Miyeon. She doesn’t stick around or linger in the same room as her for longer than she deems necessary. The hybrid is almost convinced that this odd behavior has to do with the way Yuqi looked at Miyeon that night. Stiff and intense, and with some mysteriously distinct scent being emitted from Yuqi.

Miyeon is positive that she has never smelled anything so sweet nor addicting before.

Huffing, the agitated bunny is about to storm into Yuqi’s room and demand an answer as to why the younger girl has been avoiding her all week. But before she can, Yuqi emerges from the doorway. All dressed up like she’s heading out somewhere.

Of course, Yuqi didn’t expect to see Miyeon (especially an angry-looking one) when she stepped out. But she just averts her gaze to the floor and brushes past her companion without a word.

Oh, this will not do at all.

Pivoting on her heel, Miyeon snags Yuqi by the wrist to grab her attention. The hard, almost conflicted look in those midnight-black eyes catches Miyeon off-guard, but she challenges it with a smoldering glare of her own. What did she even do wrong? It’s Yuqi who has been acting all cold and distant lately. If anyone has the right to be upset, it’s Miyeon.

“You’re leaving again?” She frowns. “Where are you going this time?”

With tight lips, Yuqi answers. “Just the mall. I won’t be gone for long.”

Oh, so now she’s lying.

“With whom?” Miyeon asks without missing a beat, her frown deepening further.

Yuqi furrows her brows. “I don’t have to tell you, Miyeon.” She says plainly.

For some reason, that hurts her more than it should.

Miyeon opens , ready to unleash Hell upon Yuqi because how dare she act so rude when Miyeon is the one who’s trying to cross the distance Yuqi has left behind. But nothing comes out, except –

“Fine! Do what you want! I don’t care.” Miyeon jerks her hand away and rushes past Yuqi to go to her own room at the opposite side of the hallway.

Yuqi groans. “Crap…” She mutters, running a hand through her hair when the door slams shut.

Maybe one day, Miyeon will understand once Yuqi actually has the courage to explain what happened that night and the feelings she felt. But for now, she can only hope that Miyeon doesn’t hate her too much. Contrary to her nature, the bunny is never the type to hold grudges for very long.

᠁

Surprisingly, Miyeon manages to last three whole days without so much as uttering a single word in Yuqi’s way. And she almost goes through half of the weekend too, but then a thunderstorm rolls in on a Thursday night when she’s gotten ready for bed.

For someone who has the ability to sleep through five consecutive alarms, Miyeon was not at all exempted from the angry roars of thunder shaking her window panes.

Back in the orphanage, thunderstorms were always the worst. The concrete walls seemed to tremble like they would collapse any second, amplifying the sound into a frightening echo that made the dreary interior seem even bleaker. Most of the older hybrids would poke fun at Miyeon too and went as far as to trap her inside a dark closet and mock her through the door while she cried at them to please let her out.

The memories still traumatize her to this day.

Miyeon doesn’t even realize that tears are streaming down her cheeks until a particularly loud rumble breaks her out of her fetal position on the bed, and she feels the dampness growing on her pillow. Her intention of avoiding Yuqi is trashed completely when it’s raining cats and dogs outside.

Thank God for her excellent night vision, or else Miyeon would have bumped into every piece of furniture and wall as she scurries down the hallway to Yuqi’s room. Turning the knob with a shaky hand, she opens the door and peeks inside.

Yuqi is still sound asleep, snoring away to her heart’s content in spite of the bad weather raging behind her drawn curtains. Miyeon hesitates if she should enter or not, but the next clap of thunder makes up her mind for her. She tiptoes over to the bedside, quietly peels the covers away to crawl in next to the younger girl, and can’t help but let her heart speed up when she notices how close Yuqi’s face is.

I hope she doesn’t wake up right now, or this is gonna be so awkward…

Settling down at last, Miyeon immediately nestles up to her owner. Their legs are entangled as she whimpers from the continuous thunderclaps and lightning flashes from the storm overhead. Yuqi eventually stirs around the third whimper and shifts back a little when she opens her eyes to take in Miyeon’s quivering form. She frowns slightly with concern.

“Miyeon…?” Her sleep-ridden voice croaks out, a hand reaching up to gingerly wipe Miyeon’s tears away before she winds her arm securely around the trembling hybrid. “Why are you crying, bunny?”

Miyeon lowers her head and nuzzles even further into Yuqi’s warmth at the nickname. Just breathing in her human’s scent is enough to stifle most of her cries and shaking. That, and the arm holding her almost protectively by the waist. But still, she can’t quite seem to relax.

“I’m scared, Yuqi…” Miyeon murmurs against , eyes screwed shut as she clings onto Yuqi’s pajama sleeve in a knuckle-white grip.

The Chinese girl doesn’t say anything. Instead, she just hums in understanding and hugs Miyeon close; her arm tightening around the latter’s waist in an effort for her to feel more of Yuqi’s presence. She buries her face in Miyeon’s soft brown hair and goes to gently press her lips on the top of her companion’s head – knowing that this soothed Miyeon without fail.

The effect is instantaneous when her flattened ears loosen up when she feels Yuqi’s fingers dragging against her scalp in languid .

Soon enough, the sound of thunder begins to fade out as Miyeon focuses on nothing but the fluttering kisses Yuqi would drop on her head – a few lasting longer than the others – and the natural warmth of Yuqi’s body engulfing her like a comforter. Perhaps in more ways than one.

“Shhh, it’s okay now… You’re safe here with me.” Yuqi whispers so quietly that if it weren’t for Miyeon’s impeccable hearing, the words would’ve likely gotten lost in the pouring rain.

Biting her lower lip, Miyeon cuddles further into Yuqi and hangs onto her for dear life. She’s not sure if this resolves whatever cold war has been instigated between them. But at the same time, it feels like some sort of progress was made… and she’ll take it for what it’s worth.

“Thank you.” She mumbles into her neck, feeling more and more relaxed under Yuqi’s lazy yet caring touches.

“Of course, bunny.”

Miyeon doesn’t think much about it afterwards once Yuqi starts running her fingers through her hair. Sleep calls her name, and she gladly answers it.

Come daylight, though, the hybrid wakes up on her own. The space Yuqi previously occupied is left empty. Any sign of the Han girl being there last night are the wrinkles on her bedsheet and the lingering scent of mint on her pillow.

Miyeon has never felt more alone since leaving that orphanage.

᠁

Miyeon isn’t really sure what to feel anymore, because she may have ed up her and Yuqi’s relationship but doesn’t have a clue why or how that could have happened.

It doesn’t help that neither of them brought up that night with the thunderstorm either.

Twelve years of friendship will go down the drain if she doesn’t find a way to fix whatever has been broken between them. Unfortunately, just because she has stronger senses and can see well in the dark doesn’t make her Wonder Woman.

With a pitiful whine, Miyeon curls up more in her cotton sweater that’s two sizes too big. Hoping it would simply eat her alive so she’d stop overthinking about what went wrong. She peers up from her curled position to look at Minnie, who is happily eating from across the sofa. Plowing through Miyeon’s leftover salad without a care in the world.

She must’ve gotten her appetite from a certain wolf-dog hybrid.

“Your face is gonna freeze like that, you know.” Minnie offers a -eating grin that she, no doubt, adopted from her pesky companion, Shuhua.

Miyeon had met the young canine plenty of times before and surprisingly befriended her, regardless of the fact that their first meeting had been a total disaster. For context, Yuqi brought her along to visit Minnie in her condo one day and the two hybrids instantly got into a fight. Since then, Minnie has never let Yuqi live down the fact that her bunny almost got bitten by a wolf-dog who’s barely shorter than her. (Miyeon is only taller than Shuhua by, like, a few centimeters – but those are very important numbers, mind you.)

“Why are you even here?” Miyeon grumbles, inwardly debating if she should just sacrifice the small cushion in her arms so she can wipe that dumb smirk off the Thai’s face.

“Because Yuqi invited me over to hang out,” She states as a matter-of-factly. “I would’ve brought Shu along with me, but she wanted to spend time with Soojin and Soyeon today. So, I dropped her off at their flat earlier.”

Miyeon makes a face when Minnie continues speaking through the forkful of lettuce leaves in . How uncouth.

“Come to think of it, they’re pretty much her adoptive parents with how they spoil Shuhua like she’s their own kid. Not that I mind, anyway. They always take good care of our little puppy whenever my parents get me holed up at our company’s office all day.”

She takes another bite of shredded chicken and smiles around her fork. Just as Miyeon is about to ask another question (like why Minnie is eating her food when there are perfectly good snacks in the pantry), the front door of the house is suddenly opened to reveal a pensive-looking Yuqi.

“Oh, hey! You finally made it.” Holding the salad bowl in one hand, Minnie throws a casual wave in her direction. “Welcome home, Wooks.”

“Sorry,” Yuqi huffs while toeing off her shoes by the doorway. “Subway’s been packed like crazy ‘cause of the rush hour.”

Miyeon straightens up immediately after casting aside the cushion she’s been holding. The hybrid is about to walk up to her owner and apologize for blowing up the way she did several days ago, but then stops short when something strong assaults her sensitive nose. The scent… it’s not Yuqi’s normal scent. Hers is usually more like peppermint and smelling of coffee, maybe a hint of vanilla too, but this one is much more fragrant and fruitier.

Scrunching her nose at the clash of scents, Miyeon plasters a scowl on her face.

Every breath she takes drags in more of the foreign smell until she’s engulfed in it. It’s perfume. Yuqi is covered in perfume that doesn’t belong to her.

Something ignites in Miyeon’s gut as her eyes glint ferociously, teeth bared as she growls.

“Who were you around with?!”

Yuqi looks completely taken aback by her hostile behavior. “Miyeon, wh-what’s gotten into you? What are you even talking about?”

Miyeon disregards her honest confusion and takes a step back when the other girl moves forward. She doesn’t really know why she’s shouting or acting so aggressively right now. But the idea of Yuqi being with someone else, of being completely consumed by that person, has driven her over the edge.

“I said,” Miyeon repeats in a much lower voice, her fur bristling as her tail wags in defiance. Both of her ears are laid flat against her scalp to express her anger. “Who were you with? I don’t recognize the smell. Is it someone from work? A girl you’ve been seeing around lately?”

Her sarcastic tone sours Yuqi’s expression into a deep frown, and she straightens her posture after dumping her backpack unceremoniously onto the floor so she can meet Miyeon’s fiery gaze head-on. A couple of feet away from them, a very anxious Minnie darts her eyes between the two. Worry floods every inch of her face as she struggles on deciding whether to intervene or just back off. For all she knows, trying to get herself involved might make the situation even worse.

“Why should I tell you, huh?” Yuqi’s obsidian eyes are hard and cold as steel. “It’s none of your business, anyway.”

“Be-Because… Because…” Miyeon starts in a broken voice, her eyes glazing over as she tries to blink back the onslaught of tears. But no matter how much she wants to say it, she can’t seem to finish the sentence for the life of her.

You’re supposed to be mine! The bunny wants to scream, but she’s aware of how petty that sounds. Yuqi isn’t some property or object she can just own. Sure, Miyeon might see the human as her owner… but Yuqi doesn’t belong to her, and this fact alone only sinks the knife deeper into her chest. Because one day, Yuqi would belong to someone else who is more deserving of her. Someone who can provide for her and be her equal. Not some overly-attached hybrid with this possessive aggression over her close friends and loved ones.

“Bunny hybrids can be very territorial and are notorious for their jealous streak. They’re attention-seekers who get upset easily whenever it’s not given to them, like a very needy partner.” Soojin had explained it to her once. Miyeon, however, never took her sagely advice to heart – thinking that Soyeon should just cut the feline off of those cheesy web dramas – but maybe there was some truth to Soojin’s words, after all.

Miyeon isn’t sure if what she’s feeling is completely human, or if it’s simply her stupid animal instincts kicking again.

Suddenly, Minnie jumps to her feet. Her eyes are uncertain as she tentatively lays a hand on Yuqi’s tense shoulder to calm her down. She hates seeing her friends fight.

“Miyeon, I’m sure it’s not like that…” Minnie speaks in a carefully even tone, as if she’s afraid that one wrong word would set either of them off like a bomb. But there’s not much conviction in her voice when she says it.

Blinking away the tears in her eyes, Miyeon shakes her head dismally. She needs to escape, to leave as quickly as possible and run away somewhere. Inconvenient as it can be sometimes, the hybrid has learned to trust her instincts enough in moments like this.

And so, she does.

Miyeon bolts out of the house far too fast for either Yuqi or Minnie to react, and she pretends not to feel her own heart cracking even further when she hears the panicked voice of Yuqi calling out her name from behind.