Terms and Conditions

Dating Minseo—actually dating him—turned out to be more terrifying than faking it ever was.

For starters, there was no script anymore. No pre-rehearsed lines. No excuses.

Just them.

And them… was messy.

"You keep smiling at me," Mina said, glaring at him over their brunch table.

Minseo, mid-sip of banana milk, shrugged. "I'm happy."

"Well stop it. It's suspicious."

"It's brunch, not espionage."

Mina shoved a piece of toast in her mouth to hide the way her cheeks were flushing.

Minseo leaned on one elbow, studying her with soft eyes. "You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"Pretending you don't like me."

She huffed. "I'm just managing expectations."

"That's so romantic. Please put that on a greeting card."

"Shut up."

"Okay," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "But just so we're clear—I'm yours now."

She stared at their hands.

And instead of pulling away… she held on.

---

That afternoon, they made a list.

Rules for Real Dating (Draft 1):

1. No pretending.

2. No ghosting when scared.

3. No using fake scenarios as flirting shortcuts.

4. Be honest—even when it sucks.

5. Kiss at least once a day. (Minseo added that one. Mina rolled her eyes but didn't cross it out.)

"I feel like we're writing a dating contract," Mina muttered as they sprawled on her living room floor.

"We are," Minseo said. "Except I'm not charging you by the hour anymore."

She gave him a look. "Do not make that joke around my family."

That word—family—made both of them pause.

Because if they were doing this for real… the truth would have to come out.

To everyone.

"I should tell Grandma, mom and probably my Aunt," Mina said quietly.

Minseo nodded. "And I should probably resign from the agency."

Her eyes widened. "Wait. You're actually—?"

"I don't want to be paid to fake love anymore," he said simply. "Not when I've found the real thing."

Her heart clenched.

"You really mean that?"

He looked at her. "You're the first thing that's ever felt worth staying for."

She didn't say anything at first.

Just slid closer and leaned her head on his shoulder.

No words.

Just warmth. Breath. Heartbeats.

And the terrifying, beautiful realization that this time, it wasn't a performance.

It was the start of something real.