⋆ 𐙚 ̊.CHAPTER 13 ✶⋆.˚

🇽​​🇴​, ​🇪​​🇻​​🇪​​🇱​​🇾​​🇳

EVELYN GROGGILY STEPPED OUT of her room, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She had barely been awake for two minutes, yet the unmistakable aroma of something actually edible filled the dorm. That was already a shock. But what truly caught her off guard was the sight in front of her.

Minho stood at the kitchen counter, sleeves non-existent thanks to the black tank top he was wearing, moving effortlessly between the stove and the cutting board. His hair was slightly messy, like he had just woken up but still somehow managed to look annoyingly good. But the real kicker?

The apron.

A light colored apron covered in tiny cartoon bears.

Evelyn blinked once, then twice. And then—

"Hold on." She covered her mouth, eyes wide with barely restrained laughter. "Minho. What are you wearing?"

Minho, without missing a beat, flipped something in the pan with a practiced ease and smirked at her. "You like it? I think it really brings out my soft side."

Evelyn shook her head, biting back a grin. "Wow. I never thought I'd see the day. Minho Moon, self-proclaimed heartthrob, cooking in a bear apron." She crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. "This might just be the highlight of my entire year."

Minho placed the spatula down and turned toward her, leaning slightly onto the counter with that ever-present, infuriating smirk. His voice dropped just slightly as he teased, "You know, you look kinda angelic in the morning."

Evelyn rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw her past life. "Shut up."

He chuckled, going back to stirring something in the pot as she walked further into the kitchen. That's when she noticed a basket sitting on the counter, wrapped neatly with a bow. Even from a glance, she could tell what it was—luxury gift items, expensive treats, and probably a heartfelt note tucked inside.

His mom.

Evelyn didn't have to ask to know. She recognized the brands, the attention to detail. And for all of Minho's usual bravado, the way his eyes flicked toward the basket and then away too quickly told her everything.

"Your mom sent you that from LA, didn't she?" she asked softly.

Minho didn't look up immediately, but after a beat, he exhaled and nodded. "Yeah."

Evelyn wasn't sure what to say. She knew Minho's mom loved him, but she was far away—too far to spend Chuseok with him. And for all of Minho's teasing and rich boy nonchalance, she knew that had to sting.

She hesitated before saying, "It sucks that she couldn't be here."

Minho finally looked at her, something unreadable flickering across his expression. Then, before the moment could get too real, he smirked again. "Thanks for caring, Raven. Now you can go back to being your usual self."

Evelyn scoffed, the moment effectively shattered. "Oh, don't worry. I was about to."

She turned toward the fridge to grab some water, but as she did, she couldn't help but steal one last glance at him—at the way his expression softened for just a second before he went back to stirring, as if the weight of the moment had never existed.

And for some reason, she felt bad. Not just because his mom wasn't there, but because... today, of all days, she thought maybe they'd finally talk. Really talk.

But instead, Minho had his walls up again. Just like always.

Evelyn hesitated for a moment, fingers tightening around the water bottle she had just grabbed. Normally, this would be the part where she rolled her eyes, muttered some insult, and walked away. But this time... she didn't want to.

Not today.

She turned back to Minho, leaning against the counter as he continued cooking like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't just seen the flicker of something real in his expression. Like he hadn't just brushed it off with another joke.

She wasn't going to let him do that. Not this time.

"Hey," she said, her voice quieter than usual.

Minho, focused on the stove, barely reacted. "What, Raven? Want to roast my apron some more?"

"No." Evelyn took a breath. "I mean... can we talk?"

Minho glanced at her then, brow slightly raised. "We are talking."

She rolled her eyes but pushed on. "I mean later. After all the Lulu shit, after dinner, after everything." She exhaled, shifting her weight. "Can we actually talk?"

For the first time that morning, Minho stilled. He didn't immediately fire back some sarcastic remark or make a joke. Instead, he just stared at her, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze.

Evelyn held her breath.

Then, after what felt like forever, Minho turned back to the stove, stirring absentmindedly. "We'll see," he said casually. But there was something different in his tone—something that told her he wasn't completely dismissing the idea.

Evelyn crossed her arms, tilting her head as she watched Minho stir the pot. "You know, for someone who's supposedly a 'natural talent' in the kitchen, you look kinda stressed."

Minho scoffed. "Stressed? Please. This is me in my element."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're gripping that spoon like it owes you money."

Minho immediately loosened his hold, shooting her a glare. "That's just called passion, Raven."

Evelyn smirked. "Right. Passion. Totally not the early signs of a breakdown."

Minho exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he reached for a bowl. "You're annoying."

"You love it."

Minho paused, then turned to her with a slow smirk. "You know what, you're right. The world would be boring without your constant, grating presence."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. The tension from earlier had melted into something more familiar—something easier.

She leaned against the counter. "So, what did your mom send you this time?"

Minho glanced at the gift basket, his smirk faltering just a little. "Same stuff. Designer clothes, fancy skincare, a watch, some LA snacks."

Evelyn nodded, eyeing the basket. "Must be nice."

Minho let out a soft chuckle, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Super nice."

She hesitated, then nudged his arm lightly. "I mean, it is nice."

Minho didn't respond right away. Instead, he kept his focus on the stove, stirring slowly. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "Yeah, and that sucks."

Evelyn swallowed. She wasn't used to this—Minho letting his guard down, even just a little. It felt... fragile. Like, if she said the wrong thing, he'd shut the door again.

So, she didn't push.

Instead, she smiled a little. "Well, at least you have us."

Minho glanced at her, something softer in his gaze now. "Lucky me."

Evelyn grinned. "Damn right."

Evelyn pushed off the counter, stretching her arms. "Need a hand?"

Minho scoffed, barely sparing her a glance. "With you in the kitchen? No thanks. I actually want people to survive this meal."

She rolled her eyes. "Dramatic much?"

"Just factual," he quipped, effortlessly flipping something in the pan.

Evelyn huffed but didn't argue. Instead, she wandered over to the couch and plopped down, letting out a deep sigh. The dorm was filled with the warm, savory scent of whatever Minho was cooking, and despite herself, she had to admit—he knew what he was doing.

She absentmindedly glanced over at him, intending to make another snarky comment, but instead, her words caught in her throat.

Minho was standing at the stove, completely in his element, wearing that ridiculous bear apron over a black tank top that left his toned arms on full display. His hair slightly messy, his brows furrowed in concentration as he worked with effortless ease. The way he moved—fluid, confident, annoyingly attractive—made her stomach do something weird.

Evelyn blinked. What the hell?

She quickly looked away, but it was too late. Her brain had already short-circuited.

"Oh my god," she muttered under her breath, sinking further into the couch. Get a grip, Evelyn.

Unfortunately, Minho chose that exact moment to glance over at her. "What?"

Evelyn sat up instantly, crossing her arms like she hadn't just been caught staring. "Nothing."

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Were you just admiring me?"

She scoffed. "As if."

His smirk deepened as he turned back to the stove. "It's okay, Raven. I get it. I have that effect on people."

Evelyn groaned, grabbing a pillow and dramatically shoving her face into it. She was never going to live this down.

Just as Evelyn was recovering from the absolute humiliation of staring at Minho, Kitty emerged from her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was a mess, and she was already sniffing the air like a bloodhound.

"What smells so good?" she mumbled, dragging her feet toward the kitchen.

Minho barely spared her a glance. "My genius."

Kitty ignored him, her sleepy gaze landing on a beautifully wrapped basket sitting on the counter. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the familiar red and white box sticking out from the pile of gifts.

"Oooh, Pepero!" she grinned, reaching for it.

SMACK.

Kitty yelped, jerking her hand back as Minho swatted it away with lightning speed.

"Hands off," he said firmly, pulling the basket closer to himself. "These are mine."

Kitty glared at him, shaking out her hand as if she had suffered a grave injury. "Are you serious? You have a whole basket of goodies, and you won't share one measly box of Pepero?"

Minho scoffed. " These are premium Pepero personally sent by my mum from LA—not for greedy little gremlins like you."

Kitty gasped dramatically. "Wow. So much for the spirit of Chuseok."

Evelyn, who had been watching from the couch, burst into laughter. "You should've known better, Kitty. Minho doesn't share."

Kitty pouted, crossing her arms. "Fine. But if you happen to leave them unattended, I can't be held responsible for what happens."

Minho narrowed his eyes. "Try it, and you will be."

Kitty stuck her tongue out at him before plopping onto the couch next to Evelyn. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "Gatekeeping Pepero like some kind of food dictator."

Minho just smirked, popping a piece of grilled meat onto a plate. "Survival of the fittest, Kitty."

IN THE EVENING

By the time evening rolled around, the outdoor area had been transformed into a warm, bustling space filled with laughter, the clinking of dishes, and the rich, mouthwatering aroma of home-cooked food. The long dining tables were covered in colorful plates, an assortment of traditional Chuseok dishes alongside more modern ones—like Kitty's famous mashed potatoes, which she had insisted on making. The turnout was even bigger than expected, with students from all over campus showing up, drawn by the promise of good food and even better company.

As Kitty finished setting the last dish on the table, Q and Florian walked in, their faces glowing from the excitement of the night. Florian took in the sight before him and grinned.

"People are calling this Chinguseok," he said, nudging Kitty's arm.

Kitty blinked. "What's that?"

"It's a pun," Florian explained. "'Chingu' means 'friends' in Korean, and you combined it with Chuseok. You basically started a tradition, Kitty."

Kitty's eyes widened before a proud smile crept onto her lips. "I did, didn't I?" she mused, folding her arms. "Well, I am kind of amazing."

Florian chuckled. "And humble, too."

Before Kitty could respond, the door opened again, and in walked Professor Finnerty and—much to her horror—Professor Lee. Kitty's eyes narrowed immediately.

"What is he doing here?" she whispered to Evelyn, motioning toward Lee. "He hates me. And it's mutual."

Evelyn smirked, leaning in. "Well, he's here now, so unless you plan on poisoning his food, you better deal with it."

Kitty huffed dramatically but said nothing as everyone began taking their seats.

Kitty settled beside Professor Finnerty, hoping to get some time to subtly investigate her maybe-stepbrother -theory. Meanwhile, Evelyn ended up beside Professor Lee, who looked as uncomfortable as ever in a social setting.

As Minho stood near the table, contemplating where to sit, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Minho," a sickly sweet voice called.

Minho turned just as Madison sauntered over, her glossy hair perfectly in place, her lips curled into a flirtatious smile.

"Where are you sitting?" she asked, batting her lashes at him.

Evelyn, who had been half-listening, tensed slightly but kept her eyes fixed on her plate.

Minho barely hesitated. "I'm sitting with Evelyn here," he announced, moving almost too quickly to the seat beside her.

Madison's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she quickly recovered. "Oh, cool," she said with a forced grin before walking away, swaying her hips dramatically as if to make Minho regret his decision.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow as Minho plopped down beside her. "Wow. That was almost too fast."

Minho smirked, reaching for a bowl of japchae. "What can I say? Some people are just too persistent."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, but a small, inexplicable warmth bloomed in her chest.

Kitty cleared her throat and stood, raising her glass.

"I just wanted to say," she began, her voice softer than usual, "that none of this would've been possible without my mom." Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass. "She was the one who brought me here to Korea. And even though she's not with me anymore... she's still the reason I'm able to do things like this. So, this one's for her."

Everyone raised their glasses.

"To Kitty's mom," Q said warmly.

"To Kitty's mom," everyone echoed.

Evelyn caught the way Kitty's eyes shimmered slightly before she took a sip of her drink, and she reached under the table to squeeze her friend's hand briefly. Kitty squeezed back.

As the night carried on, people laughed, ate, and made memories. But just when the warmth of the evening had settled in, Minho suddenly stood up, stretching dramatically.

"Alright, that was fun, but I gotta bounce," he announced, dusting off his hands.

Kitty, mid-bite, looked up with a frown. "You're leaving?"

Minho scoffed. "Uh, yeah? Hot date with pop star, remember?"

Evelyn's stomach twisted at his words. Right. Lulu.

She didn't know why she felt weird about it. Minho dating or flirting wasn't anything new. He was Minho. He flirted with anything that moved. But for some reason, the idea of him spending the rest of Chuseok with someone else—with her—made Evelyn feel...

Off.

She kept her expression neutral, refusing to let any of her thoughts show.

Kitty groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Fine. But if you miss dessert, that's on you."

Minho grinned. "I think I'll survive."

With that, he grabbed his coat and walked out the door, leaving behind an inexplicable emptiness in the air.

Evelyn didn't say a word. She just quietly pushed the food around her plate, pretending she didn't care. Pretending she didn't feel anything at all.

Kitty was happily picking at the last bits of food on her plate when her phone buzzed. She lazily glanced at the screen, but the moment she read the message, she nearly choked on her drink.

MINHO:

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.
COME HERE RIGHT NOW.
ISTG I'LL KILL YOU."

Her eyes widened in horror. She didn't need context. She knew exactly what had happened.

Slowly, her gaze flickered toward the bowl of mashed potatoes sitting innocently on the table. Cheese, milk, and more cheese—just the way she liked them. But for someone as painfully lactose intolerant as Minho? Yeah... it sure as hell didn't do his stomach any favors.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, already dreading the chaos that was about to unfold. Quickly, she turned to Evelyn, grabbing her arm. "I need you to do something for me."

Evelyn, who had been barely touching her food since Minho left, blinked at her. "Why do I feel like I won't like this?"

Kitty shoved her phone in Evelyn's face, showing her the frantic text. "Minho. Stomach. My mashed potatoes."

It took Evelyn approximately three seconds before she burst out laughing. "Oh my god. You poisoned him."

"I did not!" Kitty whisper-yelled, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "It's not my fault he ate them! Who told him to betray his own digestive system?!"

Evelyn smirked, but before she could add another sarcastic remark, Kitty grabbed her hands desperately. "Evelyn, please. I need you to go check on him."

"What? Why me?" Evelyn pulled back. "He's your victim."

Kitty groaned. "Because I have to talk to Finnerty right now, and you've known Minho longer! You're literally the only one who can handle him."

Evelyn scoffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, you mean the guy who's supposed to be on a date with some pop princess right now? Why would I even—"

Kitty gave her a deadpan look. "Evelyn."

Evelyn exhaled sharply, looking away. A battle waged inside her. The rational part of her brain told her to let Minho suffer the consequences of his own poor life choices. But another part—the part she didn't want to acknowledge—felt a pang of something else at the idea of him being alone, doubled over in pain.

With an exasperated groan, she stood up. "Fine. But if I find him dead, I'm telling people you did it."

Kitty beamed, already pushing her toward the door. "Noted. Now go!"

And with that, Evelyn found herself heading out into the night, bracing for whatever mess awaited her.

The place was dark, almost empty, explains why the famous star wanted to meet up here.

"Minho? Where the hell are you?" She called out before hearing some noises behind the bushes.

Evelyn barely