Tangled Strings

Chapter 24: The First Time

The room was dark, the only light seeping in from the small window near the ceiling. It was late—too late for anyone to still be lingering in the school hallways.

Except for them.

Ahyeon didn’t remember how they ended up here.

One moment, they were in the hallway, exchanging sharp words, tension thick in the air. The next, Chiquita had yanked her into the nearest empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind them.

Now, they stood inches apart, breaths uneven, gazes locked in a battle neither was willing to lose.

Ahyeon knew she should leave.

She should push Chiquita away, tell her this was a mistake, walk out before things spiraled further.

But she didn’t.

Because Chiquita was looking at her with that same fire in her eyes—the same fire she used to direct at Ahyeon when she still cared. When she still wanted her.

And Ahyeon realized, with a sickening twist in her gut, that she wasn’t ready for that fire to burn out completely.

Chiquita exhaled a slow, shaky breath.

“So what now, Vice President?” Her voice was laced with something teasing, but Ahyeon could hear the tension beneath it. “Are you going to lecture me? Tell me to stop?”

Ahyeon said nothing.

She couldn’t.

Because for once, she didn’t want to stop.

Chiquita took a step forward.

Ahyeon didn’t move.

Another step.

The heat between them was suffocating.

Chiquita tilted her head, watching her with careful amusement. "You’re not saying anything."

Ahyeon clenched her jaw. "There’s nothing to say."

A smirk. "That so?"

Chiquita took the final step, closing the space between them completely.

Ahyeon sucked in a sharp breath.

Too close.

Too warm.

Too much.

Chiquita’s fingers ghosted over Ahyeon’s wrist, barely touching, but it sent a shiver up her spine.

Ahyeon should have pulled away.

But she didn’t.

Chiquita’s voice dropped, turning softer—almost hesitant. "You don’t get to stop me now, Ahyeon."

Ahyeon swallowed.

Because she knew.

This wasn’t the same playful teasing as before.

This wasn’t the same girl who would chase after her no matter how many times she got pushed away.

This was a warning.

A reminder.

A choice.

And Ahyeon—foolish, stubborn, selfish Ahyeon—made hers.

She grabbed Chiquita’s wrist, pulling her forward, crashing their lips together.

The kiss was desperate, messy, fueled by months of frustration, of longing neither of them wanted to admit.

Chiquita gasped against her mouth, but she didn’t hesitate to kiss back, her fingers tangling into Ahyeon’s uniform, pulling her even closer.

Ahyeon let herself drown.