The final bell rang, and the hallways quickly filled with students spilling out of classrooms, all eager to escape the confines of the school building. Chiquita moved slower than most, slinging her guitar case over one shoulder as she walked down the corridor. Her band mates had left earlier for a quick rehearsal they agreed to postpone for her.
She wasn’t sure why she agreed to let Ahyeon take her home. Maybe curiosity. Maybe boredom. Or maybe—just maybe—it was that little voice in her chest that still hadn’t completely gone quiet.
As she stepped outside, the sun beginning its descent, she spotted a familiar black car parked near the school gate. And there she was—Ahyeon, leaning casually against the side, phone in hand, hair tousled just right, like she didn’t spend 20 minutes fixing it in front of the mirror earlier.
Chiquita raised a brow. “You actually waited.”
Ahyeon looked up from her phone. “I said I would.”
“No honor guard? What a downgrade.”
“Funny.” Ahyeon opened the passenger door for her. “Get in, rockstar.”
Chiquita rolled her eyes, but climbed in anyway, setting her case gently between her legs. The car was quiet for the first few minutes, the soft hum of music playing through the speakers. A familiar Baemon track.
Chiquita tilted her head. “Are you seriously playing our own song right now?”
Ahyeon smirked, eyes on the road. “What can I say? I'm a fan.”
“You’re something, alright.”
They drove in comfortable silence for the rest of the ride. Ahyeon took turns slower than usual, her eyes occasionally flickering toward Chiquita, who pretended not to notice. She tapped her fingers to the beat of the music, looking out the window, lips slightly parted in thought.
They arrived at Chiquita’s house not long after—a modest home, a little rough around the edges but warm. The engine shut off, and the quiet between them grew heavier.
“Thanks for the ride,” Chiquita said, grabbing the handle.
Ahyeon didn’t move.
Instead, she coughed.
Loudly. And very, very obviously.
Chiquita paused, one foot already out of the car. She glanced back at her. “Seriously?”
Ahyeon coughed again, this time adding a raised brow and a slight tilt of her head toward the house.
Chiquita groaned but smirked. “Fine. But if you mess up my couch, you're cleaning it.”
Ahyeon grinned like she'd just won the lottery.
Chiquita opened the door, and Ahyeon followed close behind. The house smelled like coffee and a hint of jasmine—the kind of scent that lingered long after someone left. A few picture frames lined the hallway, some tilted, one cracked at the corner.
“Living room’s that way,” Chiquita muttered, kicking off her shoes and pointing.
Ahyeon made herself comfortable on the couch immediately, stretching out like it was her own place. “Nice vibe.”
Chiquita raised a brow. “Don't get too comfortable.”
Ahyeon just smiled.
For a while, Chiquita busied herself in the kitchen, grabbing two bottled waters and tossing one at Ahyeon, who caught it effortlessly.
“So,” Ahyeon said, casually, “where’s your room?”
Chiquita paused mid-sip, eyeing her. “Off-limits.”
YOU ARE READING
Tangled Strings
FanfictionChiquita is Baemon's shining star, loved by many-but the only one she wants doesn't care for her. Her obsession with Ahyeon only deepens, despite repeated rejections.
