“I mean, can you feel it?” You were on your third lap pacing the dorm floor, socked feet dragging, hoodie sleeves falling past your fingers. “Every time we’re in the same room, it’s like—we’re orbiting. Like magnets with issues.”

Q was lying on his back on the bottom bunk, legs swinging rhythmically off the edge, head dangling upside down like your sanity. “You’ve said this already.”

He’s in your room. Minhos having his little pamper as usual, and Q isn’t having it.

“Well, I feel it again.”

He groaned, flipping over.

“Like I’ll go to the vending machine and there he is. Looking like some tortured K-drama lead. Not saying a word. Just brooding. And when I say ‘hi’? He nods. A NOD, Q.”

“Maybe he’s allergic to confrontation.”

“I’m allergic to whatever this is!” You stopped, arms flailing mid-air like punctuation. “And you know what? It’s so annoying. Because the tour was—great. Okay? Great. I laughed. He laughed. There were playlists and umbrella-sharing and he stole a hoodie from the hotel for me.”

“Romance,” Q said flatly, scrolling on his phone.

“And then we got back to KISS and it’s like someone pressed ‘awkward’ on a remote and just… left it there. Permanently. We don’t talk. We don’t text. I saw him at breakfast and he passed me a napkin like we were coworkers at a silent retreat.”

You flopped onto the rug.

“And don’t even get me started on this tuition thing,” you said, voice muffled. “I’m confused about it 24/7..”

Q’s thumbs froze on his screen.

You pushed up onto your elbows. “Because somehow, magically, my tuition is paid. All of it. And my dad didn’t do it. And Principal Lim didn’t do it. I checked.”

Q blinked.

Your brows pulled together. “What?”

He sat up slowly, phone slipping from his hand. “You found out?”

“…Found out what?”

Q exhaled like he was about to lift a sofa off his chest.

“Look. Kitty. My beloved chaos gremlin—do you want the truth, or should I just write it in the sky with sparklers?”

You stared.

Q stood. Paced once. Twice. Ran a hand through his hair like it personally owed him an apology.

“Min Ho paid it!” he said finally.

Silence.

You sat up straighter. “Wh—what?”

“He paid your tuition. Secretly. So you’d stay. So you’d have another year here. With him. He didn’t want you to leave.”

Your heart dropped like a stone in water. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

Q threw his arms out. “Why do you think he’s been walking around like a haunted Dior ad?! He misses you. He’s just—Min Ho about it. Which means pride, sarcasm, and feelings buried deeper than my grandma’s fine china.”

You were still staring. “But… why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Q sighed, voice softer now. “Because if you knew, maybe you’d run. And he’d rather keep you close, confused and mad, than far away and happy without him.”

Your throat tightened. The dorm air suddenly felt thicker.

Q plopped back down and stared at the ceiling. “Honestly, if you two don’t kiss and make out under the stars, I’m going to file an emotional harassment complaint..-“

You didn’t laugh.

You couldn’t.

You were already halfway to the door… running into the outside. YOU NEED to find him.

“Go get your man, Kiitttyy-!”

… Pamper day. He said pamper day. Q said that Minho was having a pamper day so he kicked Q out the dorm.. He’s still in the dorm.