Blurred Lines

It wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Fake couples weren't supposed to linger on each other's messages. They weren't supposed to get used to hearing "good morning" in a voice note or crave someone texting them a dumb meme at 2 a.m.

But Mina was definitely… craving.

And the worst part?

So was Minseo.

They weren't even pretending this week. No events. No family. No rehearsed storylines. Just… life.

And yet, there he was. Again.

Sitting across from her at the café. Again.

Drinking his third iced americano and doodling little hearts on a napkin.

"I should start charging you rent," Mina muttered, scrubbing the espresso machine.

"Charge me in affection," he replied without looking up.

She threw a sugar packet at him.

Hana poked her head out of the back. "Are you two flirting or fighting?"

"Neither," Mina said.

"Both," Minseo said at the same time.

They made eye contact.

It lasted too long.

That evening, Minseo offered to walk her home. It wasn't part of the act—but neither of them mentioned that.

Seoul was warm, the sidewalks glowing under soft streetlamps and convenience store signs. The streets were still alive with late-night couples, food carts, music leaking from shop doors.

"Did your family say anything else?" he asked, hands tucked into his coat pockets.

"Grandma wants us to come early to help 'set up the altar'—which I think is code for 'pose for more fake photos.'"

"She's adorable."

"She's a menace."

They walked in silence for a moment.

Then, she said quietly, "You don't have to do all this, you know."

"I know."

"You could've just faked it. Done the minimum."

He looked at her, really looked. "Do you want the minimum?"

She stopped walking.

The street was quiet here. Just the two of them. A convenience store blinked a soft neon glow nearby.

Minseo stepped closer.

One step too close.

The air between them hummed.

"Mina," he said, voice low. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

He reached out, brushing her hair behind her ear with maddening gentleness.

Her breath caught.

"This is where I'd kiss you," he said. "If it were real."

Her heart did something violent and traitorous.

She swallowed. "But it's not."

He didn't move away.

"But it could be."

Her chest ached. Her brain screamed. Her feet refused to move.

Instead, she whispered, "You're crossing a line."

He looked down at her. "So stop me."

But she didn't.

And neither did he.

Instead, they stood there. Suspended. Breathing each other in.

Then a passing scooter blared its horn and broke the moment like glass.

Mina stepped back.

Reality crashed in like a cold breeze.

"I should go," she said.

"Mina—"

"Good night," she said, turning before he could finish.

She didn't look back.

But she felt him watching her the entire way home.