You should’ve known the minute your mom said, “It’ll be fun!” that this was a trap.

Because fun did not look like standing in the middle of a crowded dog park on a Sunday morning with Boo Seungkwan—your sworn frenemy since elementary school—and two hyper dogs who clearly inherited their parents’ chaotic energy.

“It’s not a date, it’s a dog date,” your mom had said, eyes way too sparkly. “Just go, spend time with Seungkwan, let the dogs bond! Who knows what could happen?” she’d added, like this was a K-drama.

What happened? Disaster.

“Control your demon mutt!” Seungkwan shrieked as your dog leapt into his lap, covered in mud and zero remorse. “I just got these jeans dry cleaned!”

“Maybe don’t wear ‘fancy boy’ pants to a dog park!” you shouted, trying to drag your dog off him while laughing way too hard.

He glared at you while dramatically wiping his jacket with a leaf. “I swear, you live to torment me.”

You smirked, squatting beside him. “Only because you make it so easy.”

Before he could clap back, his own dog took off running—leash dragging behind him—straight toward a toddler with a balloon.

“Oh my god—DO SOMETHING!” you yelled, shoving Seungkwan's shoulder.

“Why is this my fault?! That dog has a mind of his own!” he cried, chasing after him like a flustered rom-com lead.

When he finally came back (hair tousled, face flushed, balloon retrieved), he collapsed on the bench beside you, panting. “If we ever get married, our dogs are living with your parents.”

You choked. “Who said anything about marriage?!”

“I’m just preparing for the worst-case scenario,” he replied, nonchalantly slinging an arm around your shoulder like it was no big deal.

You glared at him. “Why are you touching me?”

“You’re cold.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then I am. Deal with it.”

You didn’t move. Neither did he. His hand slid down a little, fingers brushing your arm as he leaned in closer—just enough to be annoying. Or maybe not.

“You’re the worst,” you muttered.

He grinned. “And yet here you are, letting me cuddle you in public.”

You turned your head to hide your smile. “This isn’t cuddling. This is strategic body warmth.”

“Sure it is,” he said, letting his thumb graze your hand. “Let’s just hope our dogs fall in love faster than we do.”

“…Gross.”

But neither of you moved away.