Min-jae was definitely drunk.

Not the cute, tipsy kind of drunk where he just giggled at everything—no, this was the full-disaster, swaying-on-his-feet, emotional-trainwreck kind. The kind that meant zero brain-to-mouth filter and absolute chaos.

And right now, that chaos was directed entirely at you.

"Hey, hey, hey—" He stumbled forward, nearly face-planting into your chest before grabbing onto your arm like a lifeline. His big, glassy eyes blinked up at you, unfocused but dangerously sincere. "Did you know—?" He hiccupped, then dramatically clutched his own chest. "Did you know you're, like, stupidly pretty?"

Oh no.

"Like, it's actually unfair." His voice was a mess—somewhere between a whine and a pout, with just a hint of heartbreak. "I look at you and my brain just—"pchoo!—*gone. Nothing. Empty. You make me dumb."

You sighed, adjusting your grip as he leaned even harder against you. He smelled like peach soju and bad decisions.

"Min-jae—"

"Wait, wait, no, listen!" He waved a dramatic hand in front of your face, nearly smacking you in the process. "I—hic—I gotta tell you something." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's a secret."

You raised an eyebrow. "You're yelling."

"No, I'm whispering," he insisted —at full volume. Then, without warning, he cupped your face between his hands, his cold rings pressing against your skin. His expression turned dead serious.

"I like you."

Min-jae blinked, like even he couldn't believe he just said it. Then, as if deciding to fully commit to the disaster, he nodded aggressively. "Yup. I like you. A lot. Like—like, if you were a limited-edition designer bag, I'd sell my kidney for you."

You stared. "That's... not how relationships work."

"Shhh." He pressed a finger to your lips—his own lips forming a wobbly smile. "You're so cute. And nice. And warm. And—and—" His voice cracked, his eyes suddenly looking way too soft. "And I really, really wish you liked me back."

Silence.