wednesday
manon walked down the bustling street of manila with slow, measured steps, the weight of the past week pressing down on her shoulders.
in one hand, she clutched a slightly crinkled paper bag filled with the very things that could possibly thaw sophia's icy exterior—sinigang na baboy, still warm and fragrant, and a carefully wrapped balot.
the rich, tangy aroma seeped through the bag, curling in the cool afternoon air like a plea, like a whispered apology. she knew—oh, she knew—how much sophia loved filipino food. it was her comfort, her nostalgia, her love language. and right now, manon needed all the love she could get.
in her other hand, a pink, heart-shaped balloon bobbed against the wind, tethered to her wrist like a promise. the sight of it was almost ridiculous—it looked like something a lovesick fool would carry, which, to be fair, she absolutely was.
pinned to the paper bag was a small, pink note, the words scribbled in her neatest handwriting:
i'm sorry xx
in manon's best attempt at neat penmanship. simple. honest. no theatrics, no grand declarations, just a quiet offering.
she slowed her pace as the dorm building came into view, her heartbeat picking up speed. it was stupid, really, how sophia still had this effect on her. they had been together for three years, had shared everything from whispered secrets to sleepy kisses to stupid arguments over what to watch on netflix—but even now, even after everything, manon still got nervous standing outside sophia's door.
her grip tightened on the paper bag.
"gotta look good to woo your girl." she muttered under her breath.
and, oh, did she look good today.
she had made sure of it.
a denim jacket, slightly oversized, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal the toned arms she knew sophia liked. underneath, a simple white tank top, tucked into a pair of high-waisted flared jeans that made her legs look a mile long. her braids were gathered into a high ponytail, sleek and neat, the kind of effortless yet polished look that took an embarrassing amount of time to get just right. a thin chain gleamed against her collarbone, catching the late afternoon sun.
it wasn't just about looking good.
it was about looking good for sophia.
she exhaled slowly, bouncing the balloon slightly in her grip as she came to a stop in front of the building.
her reflection stared back at her from the glass doors, and she forced herself to straighten her shoulders, square her stance, push down the nervous flutter in her stomach.
she had faced angry security guards, screaming drivers, and near-death experiences.
but nothing—nothing—was more terrifying than standing in front of sophia laforteza's door, holding a bag of soup, a fertilized duck egg, and the fragile hope that maybe she hadn't completely ruined everything.
taking a deep breath, manon stepped forward.
the moment she heard the soft mechanical whir of the door unlocking from the inside, her heart immediately lodged itself in her throat.
this was it.
sophia was right behind that door. she braced herself, straightened her jacket, adjusted her grip on the bag of food, and willed her expression into something suave, apologetic, devastatingly charming—whatever it took to make sophia melt just a little.
manon barely had a second to brace herself before the dorm door creaked open. she straightened her shoulders, holding her ground, heartbeat picking up its pace. she was ready—ready to pour out an oscar-worthy apology, ready to get on her knees if necessary, ready to win back the love of her life.
but then—instead of sophia's impossibly gorgeous, impossibly pissed-off face.
out stepped, yoonchae jeong.
teenager. menace. absolute tyrant.
and manon felt her stomach drop.
if there's anything in this world more terrifying than a furious sophia laforteza, it's definitely her youngest friend and dorm-mate—sassy, ruthless, and totally not here for any nonsense.
and yoonchae? she was serving major vibes straight out of a rom-com chick flick, playing the role of the sassy, brat, trendsetting little sister who turned everyone's world upside down with her drama.
she was in a pink strapless crop top, flared jeans cinched tight with a pink glittery belt, and heels that looked like they cost more than manon's entire wardrobe. a tiny, ridiculously expensive designer purse was slung over her shoulder, and sitting precariously atop her sleek chestnut brown hair was a pair of oversized pink sunglasses, giving her the air of someone who was either about to strut down a runway or ruin your life.
and in her perfectly manicured hand?
a silver flip phone, covered in glittery stickers of sanrio, bratz characters, k-pop idols, and—because she was insufferable—one particularly smug-looking cat.
she was chewing gum.
loudly.
manon immediately knew she was screwed.
yoonchae was deep in a chat, her voice cutting through the air like a knife, clearly giving someone a piece of her mind in korean—something manon couldn't even begin to decode. she popped a huge bubble, let out a dramatic sigh through her nose as if the whole cosmos was getting on her nerves, and clicked her tongue in annoyance.
and then—her gaze zeroed in on manon.
they swept downwards, taking in every humiliating, pathetic detail.
the paper bag of food.
the heart-shaped pink balloon.
the fact that manon bannerman, the world-renowned model, literal walking thirst trap—was standing there like a lovesick fool outside their dorm.
a smirk curled at the corner of yoonchae's lips.
and then—without even looking at her phone—she snapped it shut.
a dramatic, final, chick-flick-worthy motion.
manon swallowed hard.
"oh, look who it is," yoonchae said with a dramatic flair, shoving her phone into her minuscule purse as if it were the most tedious task ever. she folded her arms, her hip jutting out just so, while one of her stiletto heels rhythmically tapped on the floor.
her gaze flicked to the balloon.
then back to manon.
she snapped her gum again, slow and oh-so-satisfyingly smug.
"well, if it isn't manon bannerman," she drawled, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "one of diesel's top models, loitering outside my dorm like a sad, love-struck loser."
manon took a deep breath, clutching the balloon like it was her lifeline. "i prefer to think of myself as a devoted girlfriend."
"sure." yoonchae replied, her sharp eyes scanning the balloon with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "and that's your idea of devotion?"
"hey," manon shot back. "this is a genuine romantic gesture!"
yoonchae raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow.
"it's just a pink balloon, manon."
"it's heart-shaped!" manon insisted.
yoonchae fixed her with a stare.
completely deadpan.
totally unamused.
"...that doesn't make it any less cringeworthy."
manon groaned internally, already regretting every single life decision that had led her here.
"look chae," she said, switching tactics. "i just wanna see sophia. you gonna help me out or what?"
yoonchae hummed, pulling her flip phone back out, clicking her nails against the cover like she was already bored of the conversation.
and manon knew that look.
it was the look of a professional extortionist.
it was the look of a younger sibling who knew exactly how much power she had in a situation and was going to exploit it for maximum enjoyment.
yoonchae was totally in her element. everyone fawning over her, showering her with gifts, and trying to win her favor because she was the youngest, the little darling of the crew. she held the power to sway opinions with just a single word, and right now, she was soaking up every moment of having manon wrapped around her finger.
manon leaned in a bit, softening her voice to that sweet, persuasive tone she reserved for charming her way into exclusive fashion afterparties or sweet-talking sophia into letting her back into bed after a spat.
"come on, chip," she purred. "help big sis out. where's sophia?"
yoonchae absentmindedly swiped at her phone screen, clicking her tongue like she was thinking. "i dunno, manon," she said slowly. "what's in it for me?"
manon stared.
yoonchae stared right back.
and then it hit manon—she was being shaken down.
by a seventeen-year-old.
"you've gotta be kidding me."
yoonchae popped another bubble, unbothered, smug as hell. "oh, i never kid about business."
manon dragged a hand down her face. "alright. what do you want?"
yoonchae perked up, grinning. "oh, nothing much, just one-year supply of kimchi."
manon blinked.
"excuse me?"
"you heard me." yoonchae flipped her phone open just to admire her reflection in the tiny screen. "top-tier, straight-from-korea, expensive-as-hell kimchi. the kind that makes you ascend when you eat it."
manon just stared.
yoonchae stared back, expectant.
"you're literally a millionaire's daughter and you're shaking me down for fermented cabbage?"
yoonchae gasps, dramatically clutching her tiny purse. "to start with, it's my go-to comfort food. also, i'm just a regular high school student trying to get by, you know? plus, my dad doesn't think i should have a trust fund."
"sure, it's likely you'd just blow it on blackmail and those ridiculously priced skincare products."
"okay, and? that sounds like a me problem."
manon exhaled through her nose, weighing her terrible, terrible options. she could try her luck elsewhere, track sophia down on her own, but that could take hours. and knowing sophia, she'd vanish the second she saw manon approaching.
so really—she had no choice.
"fine," she spat out. "a year's worth."
yoonchae grinned, snapping her phone shut like a boss. "always a pleasure to strike a deal."
"...you little gremlin." manon grumbled, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation.
yoonchae twirled a lock of her glossy brown hair, clearly reveling in her triumph. "look, you want the scoop, i want some delicious grub. it's called a transaction, bannerman."
manon folded her arms, unimpressed. "now spill it."
yoonchae let out a dramatic sigh, as if this whole thing was just too much for her. "she's heading to the theater, you know, doing all that adult, snooze-fest theater nonsense."
manon perked up like a puppy at the sound of a treat. "thanks." she spun on her heel, strutting away like she owned the place. "i owe you one, chae."
yoonchae shot her a cheeky grin. "you owe me kimchi, babe."
"whatever." manon huffed, but just as she was about to make her grand exit, yoonchae halted her with a perfectly poised hand, fingers curled just so, like she was some royal stopping a peasant in their tracks.
"one more thing, lovergirl."
manon rolled her eyes internally.
yoonchae leaned against the doorframe, exuding that effortless confidence of someone who knew she had all the cards. she chewed her bubblegum with a flair that could only be described as obnoxious, her silver flip phone dangling from her fingers, the tiny pink bear charm swinging back and forth like it was mocking manon.
"you know," she said, blowing a bubble that popped in slow motion for dramatic effect, "i just remembered something super juicy."
manon braced herself. "what now?"
yoonchae let the tension linger, admiring her nails like she was the queen of the universe.
"the bulldogs are going to be there."
at this, manon's entire body stiffened.
she knew exactly where this was going. and she did not like it.
she fought to keep her voice neutral. "and?"
yoonchae let out a tiny, mock gasp, finally looking up. "and," she continued, eyes sparkling with pure, unfiltered mischief, "you know who else is gonna be there?"
manon did not want to ask.
she really, really did not want to ask.
but yoonchae was already grinning, because of course she knew exactly what she was doing.
"anthony delos reyes."
manon's stomach plummeted straight to hell.
yoonchae beamed. "ring a bell?"
manon clenched her jaw. "unfortunately."
yoonchae dramatically pouted, as if manon was the ultimate fun-sucker. "anthony delos reyes. tall, dreamy, and the star of the national u team. total heartthrob." she sighed wistfully, pretending to be in love. "he's basically a filipino romeo."
manon shot her a flat stare. "romeo was an idiot."
yoonchae snickered. "true, but he was also rich and hot, so who cares?"
manon rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "just another case of daddy's cash."
yoonchae brushed her off, her grin growing. "anyway, anthony delos reyes—a guy so fine he deserves a full name like he's the lead in some netflix series—"
"yoonchae."
"—who, by the way, has been crushing on sophia since before you even existed—"
manon's eye twitched in irritation.
"—will be at the theater today." yoonchae finished with a saccharine smile, popping a bubble obnoxiously loud.
silence fell.
manon had to remind herself to breathe.
she knew yoonchae was just playing with her, trying to get a rise out of her for kicks. but the mere mention of anthony sent her blood pressure skyrocketing.
because she had a history with that guy.
sophia kept insisting there was nothing to fret about—and logically, manon understood that. she trusted sophia completely.
but anthony? that charming jerk had zero shame.
manon had lost track of how many times he tried to flirt. he was always hanging around a bit too long, showering sophia with compliments like he was auditioning for a poetry slam.
and the worst part? sophia never shut him down right away.
no, she'd just flash that annoyingly gorgeous smile and say, "oh, manzie doesn't get jealous. right, babe?"
oh, she absolutely did.
manon exhaled slowly. "sophia's not interested in him." she said, trying to play it cool.
yoonchae raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "oh, but you do."
manon stared, confused. "excuse me?"
"you're totally interested," yoonchae shot back, arms crossed like she just won a debate. "not in him, obviously. but in the fact that he's still pining for sophia."
manon opened her mouth to protest but quickly realized she had no comeback.
because, well.
ugh, this girl was onto something.
yoonchae's smirk widened. "aw," she teased, tilting her head like she was watching a cute puppy. "is manon feeling a bit jealous?"
manon frowned. "i am not jealous."
"sure, sweetie." yoonchae's voice dripped with sarcasm
manon crossed her arms. "i'm not."
"uh-huh."
"not."
"mkay." yoonchae shrugged.
"whatever."
and then yoonchae dropped the bomb.
"oh, and just so you know," she said all nonchalant, as if she wasn't about to throw a grenade into manon's evening, "i heard he snagged sophia tickets to that opera next week. you know, with his fam... or maybe just thetwo of them."
manon went completely still.
yoonchae stifled a laugh behind another obnoxious pop of her gum.
checkmate.
without missing a beat, manon shoved the paper bag and balloon into yoonchae's hands, spun around, and took off down the street like she was in a race.
yoonchae squeaked, holding the items away from her like they were about to explode.
"EW. what the hell am i supposed to do with these?" she shouted after her, face scrunching up in horror.
manon didn't answer. she was already gone.
yoonchae watched her disappearing figure, shook her head, and rolled her eyes so hard they nearly fell out of her skull.
she huffed, dramatically blowing a strand of hair from her face "lesbians, man."
then, glancing down at the balloon and food bag in her hands, she sighed.
"...i should've asked for a lifetime of kimchi." she muttered, flipping open her silver phone and snapping a photo of the balloon just for fun.
then, with one last pop of her gum, she turned on her heel and strutted back inside, already planning how to milk this for all it was worth.
___
manon stormed down the street, her pace urgent, her mind a mess of spiraling thoughts and irrational jealousy.
she wasn't proud of it—of how easily she let one name, one stupid name, send her into a competitive frenzy—but sophia was hers, and if anthony delos reyes thought he could so much as breathe in her girlfriend's direction without consequence, then he was sorely mistaken.
her jaw clenched, her grip on her phone tightening. she could already picture the scene in her head: anthony, flashing that ridiculous, toothpaste-commercial smile, flexing in a way that was so obviously fake. sophia, rolling her eyes but laughing, indulging him just enough to be polite.
that was the problem.
sophia was too nice. too charming.
and these guys? they all thought they had a chance.
it wasn't even about trust—manon knew sophia loved her. sophia had chosen her, over and over again. but that didn't mean manon wouldn't gladly throw hands with every man who thought they could compete.
she needed to see sophia. she had to. there was no way—no way—she was letting anthony delos reyes, the walking cologne advertisement with an overinflated ego, swoop in and take what was hers.
she was halfway to the theater when she spotted her.
and, just like that, everything inside her halted.
there, standing under the soft glow of the streetlights, was her queen.
sophia.
manon's breath caught.
even after years of dating, even after waking up next to her, holding her, memorizing every little detail, sophia still had this effect on her—the ability to knock the air right out of her lungs with just her existence.
she was effortlessly stunning, wrapped in a cozy white turtleneck that swallowed her delicate frame, paired with sleek black leather pants that hugged her curves just right. her long, silky dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light, looking almost unfairly perfect.
and then—then—came the real dagger to manon's heart.
she was smiling.
a small, polite smile. the kind she gave when she wasn't particularly interested, but too polite to be rude.
and she wasn't smiling at just anyone.
she was smiling at anthony delos reyes.
manon's blood boiled.
sophia looked composed, calm, completely unbothered. anthony, on the other hand, was talking animatedly, his stupid, cocky grin plastered on his face, clearly trying to convince her of something.
manon clenched her jaw so hard she thought she might break a tooth.
she knew sophia. she trusted sophia. she knew sophia wouldn't give that guy the time of day.
but anthony? that was a different story.
he had been after sophia since before they got together, always hanging around, always finding some excuse to talk to her, to flirt with her. and now? here he was again, still trying, still acting like he had a chance.
manon's feet moved before she could think.
she stormed forward, steps heavy, her gaze locked onto sophia like a heat-seeking missile.
she was about to call out to her, about to make her presence very known—
"HEY YOU—" and then, suddenly, there was no ground beneath her feet.
her stomach plunged.
time slowed down.
one second, she was walking. the next, she was falling.
her body hit the ground with an earth-shattering impact, a loud thud echoing through the construction site as she tumbled into the deep, gaping pit she somehow hadn't noticed.
pain shot through her entire body, rattling her bones, knocking the wind out of her lungs.
her mind was too preoccupied, too wrapped up in her righteous rage, that she didn't even notice the glaringly obvious construction signs, the bright orange cones, or the massive hole in the middle of the street.
for a moment, she just laid there, stunned, staring up at the cruel, mocking sky.
she groaned. "no one better have seen that."
unfortunately for her, she was not alone.
"gago, pre—MAY NAHULOG SA KANAL!"
a deep voice in tagalog, panicked and loud.
manon winced, barely turning her head to see a construction worker peering down at her from the edge of the pit, his neon vest almost blinding under the streetlights.
"miss! you okay down there?" he called.
manon let out a long, pained hiss through her teeth, not quite ready to answer, not quite ready to admit to the absolute humiliation of what had just happened.
the worker turned his head, shouting over his shoulder. "call an ambulance! we got a lady down!"
manon groaned again, throwing an arm over her face.
she had reached a new low.
not just in terms of humiliation, but quite literally—she had fallen into a pit. a deep, dirt-filled, municipal pit. the kind of pit that city workers warned people about with bright orange cones and caution tape, the kind that normal people noticed before stepping into.
but no, not her.
she had been too distracted, too caught up in her own storm of jealousy, panic, and sheer, unbridled love to notice the gaping hole in front of her until it was too late. and now, she was lying flat on her back on a stretcher, her limbs aching, her pride in shambles, and her mouth running on autopilot.
"sophia..." she murmured.
the paramedics hovered around her, checking her vitals, shining a little flashlight into her eyes.
"miss? can you hear me?"
manon's eyelids fluttered.
she could hear them. but their voices were distant, like echoes in a tunnel. their faces blurred in and out of focus, the fluorescent glow of the streetlights above making everything hazy. she felt light-headed, her thoughts slipping like sand through her fingers.
but one thought remained. one name. one need.
"sophia..." she whispered again, barely conscious, the syllables tumbling from her lips like a prayer.
one of the paramedics exchanged a glance with his colleague before turning back to her. his voice was patient, soothing, the same tone one might use on a concussed toddler.
"alright, miss, we're going to take you to the hospital. do you have anyone we can call? a friend? family member?"
manon blinked sluggishly.
friend?
family?
her brain struggled to process the words, fought to latch onto anything that wasn't sophia.
a face flashed in her mind—dani. right. her best friend. that was a logical choice, wasn't it? dani would come running. dani would panic and curse at her for being a reckless idiot but still hold her hand in the ambulance.
manon parted her lips, trying to say her name.
"dan..."
but then—another face and another name.
sophia.
sophia, with her impossibly beautiful eyes and her sharp little smirks and her ridiculous, unbearable, perfect attitude.
sophia, who was still out there, completely unaware that manon had nearly died trying to reach her.
sophia, who was standing next to anthony delos reyes, the human equivalent of a tax loophole—useless, annoying, and somehow everywhere.
a rush of panic surged through manon's veins, cutting through the haze.
"sophia..." she mumbled again, more insistently this time.
the paramedic hesitated, as if unsure whether to humor her or sedate her.
"miss, we need a contact. a friend, maybe a relative—"
"i need—" manon struggled to lift her head, but the world spun around her, her vision tilting dangerously. she groaned, blinking hard. "i need... sophia."
the paramedics exchanged a look.
one of them, a young woman with an annoyingly knowing smile, crouched beside her. "is that your girlfriend?"
manon let her head loll to the side, half-conscious. her lips barely moved, but the words came out anyway, like they had a mind of their own.
"she's gonna kill me."
the paramedic chuckled. "oh yeah?"
manon was ready to accept her fate.
she had given up, gone limp on the stretcher, resigned to whatever fresh hell awaited her at the hospital. maybe they'd give her a bed. maybe they'd give her some pain meds. maybe—if she was really lucky—they'd let her wallow in her suffering for a few hours before discharging her back into the world as a certified idiot.
but then—
something caught her eye.
a glimpse of white. a cascade of dark curls swaying with every step. a figure, graceful, effortless, moving with the kind of poise that made time slow down.
manon's breath hitched.
sophia.
her girlfriend. her unaware, oblivious girlfriend, walking down the sidewalk, completely lost in her own world.
meanwhile, manon—her dumb idiot bruised, battered, pit-fallen girlfriend—was about to be loaded into an ambulance.
her eyes narrowed. oh, fuck no.
before her brain could even catch up with her body, she moved.
"hey—!" one of the paramedics barely had time to react before manon shot up from the stretcher like a possessed corpse in a horror movie.
her body screamed in protest, muscles aching, bones feeling like they were held together by sheer willpower, but she did not care.
"sophia!" manon's voice cut through the morning air, hoarse and desperate.
but sophia—oblivious, untouchable, completely useless in a crisis—did not hear her.
she kept walking, her stupid, mesmerizing curls bouncing, her stupid, gorgeous leather pants hugging her in a way that was frankly offensive, her entire existence designed to torture manon on every level.
manon cranked it up a notch, practically shouting, "sophia!"
silence. crickets.
the paramedics lunged at her, trying to shove her back down.
"miss, please—"
"you need to relax!"
manon swatted their hands away like they were pesky flies. "don't touch me!" she was on a mission, and love was her fuel. no one was going to stand in her way.
one of them grabbed her arm again, clearly panicking about the impending melodrama.
with the kind of agility that should be illegal after a construction mishap, manon broke free and took off—well, more like limped—running.
but hey, she was moving!
"sophia!" she hollered again, her voice slicing through the air.
this time, there was the tiniest pause in sophia's stride—like she might've caught a whiff of something—but nope, still no turn.
manon cursed under her breath, forcing her aching legs to move faster, ignoring the sharp, pulsing pain shooting through her ankle, ignoring the way her head swam, ignoring the absolute chaos happening behind her.
"miss! you need medical attention!" one of the paramedics yelled from behind.
another one, completely done with her nonsense, threw their hands up. "screw it. let her go. natural selection will handle the rest."
manon didn't care.
all that mattered was her.
sophia was slipping away, heading toward the intersection, seconds away from turning the corner.
manon's heartbeat roared in her ears, a mix of adrenaline and desperation fueling every step.
she had one shot and she wasn't losing her again.
manon wasn't walking. she was striding with purpose.
a woman on a mission. a warrior back from battle. a certified disaster who had decided—pain be damned—that nothing was going to stop her.
she didn't care how stupid she looked right now—bruised, dirt-streaked, her once-fabulous outfit reduced to tragic street goblin chic. she didn't care that every person she passed was staring at her, their heads turning like she was some kind of cryptid that had just crawled out of the sewers.
all that mattered was sophia.
her infuriating, gorgeous, oblivious girlfriend, walking ahead of her with that effortless, unbothered confidence.
manon had spent days desperate to see her. and now that she finally had her in her sights? nothing—not pain, not logic, not modern medical advice—was going to stop her from reaching her.
then—pain.
a sharp, searing stab shot through her side, making her stop in her tracks.
"fuck." she hissed, her breath coming out short, one hand pressing against her ribcage as if that would somehow negotiate with her body to stop hurting already, jesus christ.
she doubled over slightly, panting, eyes fluttering shut for a second.
okay. fine. maybe sprinting out of a medical emergency was a bad idea.
but now now, not when sophia was still walking away, her long curls bouncing slightly with each step, her leather-clad figure cutting through the morning light like some untouchable goddess.
manon forced herself to inhale deeply, pushing past the pain, blinking rapidly to keep herself from losing focus.
and that was when she saw it.
right there. right in sophia's wake, as if the universe itself had placed it there for her.
a flower shop.
manon's gaze snapped between sophia and the shop in quick succession.
her brain, still running on sheer chaos and stubborn romance, made a decision before she could even think about it.
with one last deep breath, she surged forward, her strides large, one arm still clutching her ribcage as she made her way toward the shop like some kind of deranged action hero.
when she reached the entrance, she barged in.
the bell above the door jangled so violently it startled the elderly shopkeeper behind the counter, nearly making him drop the bouquet he was arranging.
manon had exactly zero time to apologize.
"i need roses." she blurted out, voice still slightly winded, her entire body buzzing with urgency.
the shopkeeper, an older man with a gentle face and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, blinked at her. he looked her up and down—at her disheveled braids, her dirt-streaked denim jacket, the faint bruising on her forehead—and seemed to hesitate.
"are you... okay?" he asked, his tone hovering between concerned and mildly afraid.
manon waved a dismissive hand. "irrelevant. roses. now."
the old man cleared his throat, clearly choosing to mind his own business, and gestured toward the display of pre-made bouquets.
manon barely spared them a glance.
"bigger," she demanded. "i need it to say i'm so sorry and will literally crawl out of a hole for you—but, like, in flowers."
the shopkeeper, unfazed by her nonsense, nodded knowingly and turned toward the back of the shop. "i have just the thing."
manon tapped her foot impatiently, her body still aching, her heart still racing. she glanced over her shoulder, paranoia creeping in.
sophia was still walking.
god, she needed to hurry.
a moment later, the shopkeeper returned with a massive bouquet of roses—deep red, luxurious, the kind that would have made shakespeare himself weep into his quill.
manon's heart soared.
"yes. perfect."
"that'll be—"
she didn't even let him finish. she grabbed a random bill from her pocket—way more than the price, probably—and slapped it onto the counter before snatching the bouquet from his hands.
"keep the change!" she shouted, already spinning on her heel and rushing toward the exit.
the bell jangled violently again as she pushed through the door, stepping back onto the street, roses clutched tightly in her arms.
sophia was further now. too far.
manon cursed, tightened her grip on the bouquet, and ran.
all she could see was sophia's figure, already across the street, moving further and further away.
manon's breath hitched. she was running out of time.
her eyes flicked to the pedestrian countdown.
5
she pushed forward, clutching the bouquet of roses tighter against her chest.
4
her steps quickened, pain shooting through her leg, but she refused to slow down.
3
she was close. so damn close. if she just—
2
the light turned red.
but she didn't care.
a chorus of honks exploded around her the second she sprinted into the street.
"hey, watch it!"
"what do you think you're doing?!"
but manon barely heard them.
her eyes remained locked on sophia's retreating form, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. the bouquet was getting crushed in her grip, petals shaking from the force of her movements, but she couldn't stop.
she had to reach her.
and then—a flash of movement from her side.
a speeding car.
manon's heart leapt into her throat as she turned her head just in time to see a silver sedan barreling toward her.
the driver slammed the brakes, tires screeching against the asphalt, and manon barely had time to react before the car skidded to a sudden, violent halt—inches away from her.
the shock of it sent her stumbling back, her foot catching on uneven pavement.
and then, in the most humiliating moment of her already disastrous morning—she fell, right in the middle of the goddamn road.
the bouquet fumbled out of her grasp, petals fluttering uselessly around her like some tragic, low-budget rom-com scene.
for a moment, she just lay there, blinking up at the sky, her body momentarily frozen in sheer secondhand embarrassment for herself.
"are you seriously kidding me right now?!"
the driver's voice snapped her out of it.
manon groaned, pushing herself up just in time to see the guy—some stressed-out man in his mid-forties—hanging halfway out of his window, gesturing wildly at her like she had personally ruined his entire morning.
"what the fuck was that?!" he shouted, his face red with a mixture of rage and pure disbelief. "are you trying to die?!"
manon winced, rubbing her ribs. "um. no?"
the driver made a sound that was somewhere between a strangled groan and a full-fledged meltdown.
"people like you are the reason i need blood pressure meds!" he ranted.
manon blinked. "that feels like a personal problem."
"get out of the damn road!" the man nearly launched himself out of his car.
manon sighed dramatically, finally scrambling to her feet. she snatched up the bouquet, shaking off the dust, and immediately turned back toward the sidewalk—where sophia was, still walking, still utterly, completely unbothered.
manon's stomach sank.
sophia hadn't even noticed.
she had just crossed the street, completely oblivious to the absolute chaos happening right behind her.
no pause. no glance over her shoulder. not even a tiny reaction to the entire scene that had just unfolded.
manon had literally fallen at death's doorstep for this woman, and sophia was out here taking a casual morning stroll.
manon exhaled sharply, pushing down the urge to scream in frustration.
she had come way too far to lose sight of her now.
ignoring the driver still yelling behind her, she broke into a full sprint, the bouquet held tightly in her arms.
manon had never known exhaustion quite like this.
her lungs burned, her legs felt like lead, and her entire body ached from the absolute gauntlet she had just put herself through. but none of it mattered—because finally, finally, sophia was right there.
she stumbled forward, struggling to catch her breath, but her voice came out hoarse and desperate anyway.
"sophia!"
the filipina stopped.
manon's heart leapt into her throat as her girlfriend finally turned around.
for a split second, sophia's face was still set in that signature expression of hers—bored, unimpressed, mildly inconvenienced. but as soon as her gaze landed on manon—sweaty, panting, and absolutely covered in dirt—her brows pinched together, her lips parting slightly as something unreadable flickered in her eyes. confusion, mostly.
maybe the tiniest hint of concern. but it was buried beneath a thick layer of judgment, as if she were trying to figure out what species of idiot had just crash-landed in front of her.
neither of them spoke for a long, excruciating beat. sophia simply stood there, her arms crossed, head tilting slightly as her sharp eyes scanned every inch of manon's catastrophe of an existence.
then, finally, she spoke.
"a shower might be a good idea."
manon nearly choked.
she had just sprinted across campus—barely escaped the clutches of medical professionals—and this was the first thing out of sophia's mouth?
the audacity.
a breathless laugh bubbled up from manon, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. "wow. not even a 'hey, babe, i missed you'?"
sophia shrugged, her face a picture of indifference. "i think it's a valid question." she gestured at manon's disheveled look. "you look like you just had a brawl with a raccoon in a dumpster."
manon, still gasping for air, let out a breathless chuckle, dragging a hand down her face. fair enough. she probably looked like she had crawled straight out of a swamp. she had dirt streaked across her cheeks, dust clinging to her jacket, and her once-flawless braids were in shambles. there was a very real possibility that she smelled like a construction site.
too mortified to explain, she just shook her head and took a shaky step forward. then, with what little dignity she had left, she cleared her throat and flourished the bouquet of roses in sophia's direction.
"these are for you." she rasped.
sophia's eyes flicked down to the flowers, then back up to manon's face. she didn't say anything. didn't reach for them. didn't even react.
instead, something else caught her attention.
her expression shifted ever so slightly, her lips parting in a way that sent a warning siren blaring in manon's head. she knew that look. that was the something is wrong look. and then—
"...what happened to your face?"
shit.
manon barely had time to process the question before sophia's sharp gaze zeroed in on the faint bruise forming on her forehead.
manon immediately did what any rational person would do in this situation. she lied.
she straightened her shoulders, smoothed her expression, and waved a dismissive hand. "oh, this? pfft. nothing. barely felt it."
sophia squinted.
"you literally look like you just ran through a war zone."
"well." manon smirked. "love is a battlefield."
manon could feel the judgment radiating off of her in waves. but before she could fumble out another excuse, sophia simply sighed. it wasn't her usual exasperated sigh, the manon-you're-an-idiot sigh, or even the i-hate-this-conversation sigh. no, this was the soft, reluctant sigh. the i care but i refuse to admit it sigh.
and that made something warm curl in manon's chest.
that was progress.
but then sophia brushed her off entirely.
with a shake of her head, she turned on her heel, making her way to the dorm entrance. "get that checked before you die of stupidity."
"aw, baby, don't be like that.”
sophia huffed, clearly unimpressed. "go home, manon."
manon's stomach dropped.
no.
absolutely not.
she had not nearly died tonight just for sophia to walk away like this.
panic surged through her as she scrambled forward. "soph—wait—"
but sophia had already reached the door, her hand closing around the knob.
manon lunged.
and just as the door began to swing shut—
she shoved her foot in the gap.
the door stopped.
sophia paused.
slowly, very slowly, she turned her head, gaze flicking down to where manon's boots was wedged in the doorway. then, her sharp eyes trailed up, locking onto manon's face with the kind of unimpressed exhaustion that suggested she was reconsidering every life decision that had led her to this exact moment.
"seriously?"
manon swallowed.
her heart pounded in her chest as she lifted the slightly battered bouquet once more.
"...can we talk?" she asked, softer this time.
for a long, agonizing moment, sophia simply stared at her.
manon's fingers tightened around the stems, waiting, hoping, praying for some kind of reaction.
and then—sophia exhaled.
and for the first time that morning—she didn't tell manon to leave.
the moment sophia pulled open the door, manon barely had time to react before a sharp tug on her denim jacket sent her stumbling forward.
a startled gasp left her lips as sophia—sweet, spoiled, bratty sophia—grabbed her by the collar with a grip that was surprisingly strong for someone who normally refused to carry anything heavier than a designer handbag.
manon barely processed the movement before she was being dragged inside, the door slamming shut behind them with a decisive thud.
and then—bang.
her back hit the door.
hard.
manon barely had time to blink before sophia was right there, pressing in close, her palm slamming against the wood beside manon’s head as she caged her in.
manon’s breath hitched.
what.
she looked down, staring at the firm grip sophia still had on her jacket. then she looked back up, meeting those dark, piercing eyes that were currently locked onto her like a target.
this—this was new.
not that manon was complaining. in fact, she was, in some ways, thriving. but considering the last ten minutes had consisted of her literally fighting for sophia’s attention, this was a very unexpected turn of events.
her brain short-circuited for a solid five seconds before finally catching up to the situation.
sophia had her pinned. pinned.
sophia was looking at her like she was something to be evaluated.
and—oh.
oh, that look.
manon had seen that look before, but never so directly pointed at her. it was slow, calculating, the kind of look sophia usually reserved for things she was considering purchasing.
manon swallowed.
this was… progress, right?
she hoped it was progress.
because right now, sophia was staring at her like she was deciding whether to forgive her or kill her.
manon held perfectly still, barely breathing as sophia’s gaze dragged over her.
god, it was shameless.
sophia was openly checking her out, her sharp eyes tracing every exhausted inch of manon’s disheveled state—taking in the dirt, the bruises, the way her chest still rose and fell with exertion, the way her lips—slightly parted from panting—looked far too inviting for someone who had just escaped death in traffic.
and then—sophia’s eyes lingered.
on manon’s lips.
manon’s stomach flipped.
a sharp inhale from sophia, barely audible. then her gaze flicked back up, locking onto manon’s, searching, assessing—and then manon moved.
it was barely anything.
her lips parted, her voice slipping out, low and raw from the sheer amount of running she had just done.
“…i’m sorry.”
it wasn’t much, just two little words, but something about the way she said them—soft, almost purring, carrying that tiny thread of exhaustion and vulnerability—made sophia’s grip on her jacket tighten ever so slightly.
manon felt her own body respond before she could think better of it.
the bouquet slipped from her fingers, forgotten.
her hands—aching, trembling from the night’s ordeal—found their way to sophia’s waist instead, settling there, curling around her like they belonged there.
sophia didn’t pull away.
she didn’t shove her off, didn’t roll her eyes or scoff like she normally would.
no—no.
instead, she let manon hold her.
the air between them was thick with tension, charged like the moment before a thunderstorm. neither of them spoke at first, standing there in a silent battle of wills. manon was still catching her breath, heart hammering against her ribs, body aching from the morning's relentless events, but none of that mattered. not when sophia was looking at her like that.
a slow, lazy smirk curled at the edges of sophia's lips, dark eyes scanning manon's disheveled state with something unreadable—something dangerously close to amusement, but also something else. something deeper.
her gaze flickered over the bruises blooming faintly on manon's forehead, the dirt clinging to her skin, the torn state of her clothes. manon expected her to make a snide remark, to roll her eyes and turn away, to toss one of her usual sharp-witted insults that would sting in the best way possible.
instead, sophia tilted her head slightly, and in a voice that was devastatingly low, she murmured, "you're persistent."
the way she said it—slow, deliberate—sent an involuntary shiver down manon's spine. she barely had time to process before she felt it: sophia's fingers, still gripping the collar of her jacket, starting to move.
the firm hold turned into something else, something more deliberate, more intimate. she didn't let go. instead, her fingers trailed downward, brushing against the fabric of manon's dirtied white tank top, following the line of her sternum with a feather-light touch.
manon felt her breath hitch, just slightly.
sophia noticed.
her smirk deepened, but she said nothing, her hand continuing its slow, torturous descent. down, over manon's toned stomach, fingertips grazing the fabric where it clung to her abs, her touch so light it was almost unbearable. manon gritted her teeth, willing herself to stay still, to not react—to not give sophia the satisfaction she was so clearly aiming for.
but then sophia stilled. she paused, her fingers barely hovering over the spot where manon's stomach was clenched tight, as if she were contemplating her next move. she took a long, graceful look at her girlfriend—at the mess she had become, the sweat on her skin, the way her lips were slightly parted, still damp from exertion.
manon saw it then—the flicker in sophia's eyes. the unspoken thought, the undeniable attraction, the way her gaze lingered a second too long.
then sophia spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "let's see how long you last."
manon exhaled sharply, her pulse hammering.
oh.
oh, she felt that.
she felt it deep in her chest, in the way her body instinctively tensed, in the way her breath hitched despite her best efforts to remain unaffected.
sophia was playing a game.
toying with her.
testing her.
and god help her, manon had never been one to back down from a challenge.
a slow grin curled at the corner of her lips, and before she could even think twice, her hands moved—fingers tightening around sophia's waist as she pulled her in, eliminating the small, agonizing distance between them. their bodies pressed together, heat meeting heat, and manon felt the sharp inhale sophia took, felt the way her body instinctively stiffened for just a fraction of a second before she schooled her features back into indifference.
manon smirked. "i was just getting started, babe."
a promise. a challenge thrown back in sophia's face.
sophia's jaw tensed, her expression unreadable. for the first time that night, she hesitated—just for a fraction of a second, just long enough for manon to know she was winning.
sophia hated this.
hated how easy manon made it seem.
hated how, despite her being the one in control, the one who had pinned manon against the door, the one who had set the rules, manon had somehow turned the game against her.
manon saw it all—the small, subtle flickers in sophia's expression, the way her breath came just a little uneven, the way she was trying so hard not to react.
it was driving her crazy.
and manon knew it.
so she waited. she watched. let sophia feel it—the tension, the anticipation, the fact that manon was not going to break first. not after everything. not after nearly getting hit by a car for this woman.
for a long, stretched-out moment, sophia said nothing.
then—finally—a quiet sound.
a sigh. a small, barely-there groan. something so soft it could've been missed, but manon heard it. felt it.
and god, did it make her smile.
but sophia wasn't done. not yet.
she steadied herself, straightened her posture, and in a move so painfully calculated, she leaned in—just close enough for manon to feel the ghost of her breath against her lips. close enough to be a warning. a threat. a reminder that sophia never lost.
the moment hung between them, stretched taut with tension, neither one willing to move first. sophia's breath was warm against manon's lips, her grip still firm on the collar of manon's ruined denim jacket, keeping her pressed against the door. manon could feel it—the heat radiating off sophia's body, the erratic rise and fall of her chest, the sharp contrast of her controlled expression and the wildness just beneath it.
then, just as manon thought sophia would pull away, would make some infuriating remark and leave her standing there, sophia moved.
with no warning, no hesitation, she closed the distance, crashing her lips against manon's in a kiss so hard, so needy, it knocked the breath right out of her.
manon barely had time to react before her body did it for her. instinct kicked in, hands gripping sophia's waist as she kissed her back with equal fervor, letting herself sink into it, letting herself drown in the sheer force of it. it was messy, desperate, more raw emotion than finesse—teeth clashing slightly, breaths coming in sharp inhales between the frantic press of lips, hands grasping at fabric, pulling, needing.
sophia missed her.
manon could taste it, could feel it in the way sophia kissed her like she was trying to make up for every second of distance between them.
but of course, sophia would never admit it.
so manon took what she could get, drinking in the feel of her girlfriend in her arms, the way sophia's fingers curled into the front of her jacket, holding her close even as she pretended she wasn't.
and just like that, all thoughts of anthony delos reyes—the cause of her ridiculous jealousy, the reason she had been in this mess in the first place—evaporated from manon's mind.
because now?
now, it was her kissing sophia.
not anthony. not some egotistical pretty boy with nothing but a fancy name and a bad suit.
just her.
and god, was she going to enjoy this victory.
sophia's lips moved against hers with a kind of reckless determination, like she was trying to prove something, like she was trying to win—but manon had never been one to lose a fight, especially not one like this. she pressed back, deepening the kiss, tilting her head just enough to gain an advantage.
sophia made a small, almost imperceptible sound, and fuck, if that didn't send heat shooting straight down manon's spine.
then, as if unable to help herself, manon's hands slipped beneath the hem of sophia's tucked-in loose turtleneck, her fingers grazing bare skin.
sophia's breath hitched.
manon smirked against her lips, but she didn't stop.
she let her hands roam, tracing the soft, warm expanse of sophia's waist, fingertips gliding over the dips and curves of her body, reacquainting herself with every inch she had been missing. she didn't rush—no, she savored, slow and deliberate, reveling in the way sophia tensed under her touch but didn't pull away.
god, she missed this.
she missed sophia's skin under her fingertips, the way she would inhale just a little sharper when manon's hands wandered too far, the way her body reacted despite herself.
and when her hands finally traveled higher, brushing against the edge of sophia's dark lace bra, she felt it—sophia's pulse, rapid beneath her touch.
but just as quickly as she let herself believe they were getting somewhere—
sophia ripped herself away.
she moved so fast it left manon blinking, still dazed, lips swollen from the kiss, breath coming hard and fast.
sophia, too, was breathless, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. but her eyes—her eyes—were unreadable, like she was already regretting every second of what just happened.
manon didn't move. didn't dare speak.
because she already knew.
she already saw it in the way sophia squared her shoulders, in the way she wiped the back of her hand across her lips like she could erase the moment entirely.
then—before manon could react, before she could do anything to stop it—sophia grabbed her by the collar again, yanked the door open, and shoved her outside.
the next thing manon knew, the door slammed shut in her face.
she stood there, still winded, still reeling, staring at the closed door with an expression that was equal parts exasperated and entirely too satisfied.
because sophia could pretend all she wanted.
but that?
that was progress.
manon exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead against the door, her fingers grazing the wood like she could reach sophia through it. her chest was still heaving from the kiss, from the sprint, from the sheer exhaustion of the night—but none of that mattered. the only thing that mattered was the woman on the other side of this damn door.
she knocked lightly, barely more than a soft tap, but she knew sophia could hear her.
"baby?" manon's voice was quiet, tentative, laced with something that almost sounded like pleading. "please... let's talk."
silence.
she knocked again, just as gentle, resting her other hand flat against the door, as if she could feel sophia's warmth through it.
"sophia." she murmured, a little firmer this time. "come on, angel, don't do this."
on the other side, sophia was standing still, leaning against the door, biting her lip so hard she thought it might bruise. her heart was still hammering, her body still on fire from manon's touch. that kiss—it had taken everything in her not to sink into it, not to let herself crumble right then and there.
but she couldn't.
manon needed to suffer for a little longer.
so she swallowed hard, inhaled through her nose, and shut her eyes. no, she would not forgive her yet. she refused.
instead of answering, she shook her head to herself, a soft, frustrated sigh escaping her lips. then, with a decisive push off the door, she walked across the room, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. her purse was still on the floor where she had dropped it earlier, abandoned in her initial annoyance, and she scooped it up without much thought.
but then—her eyes landed on the bouquet.
a bouquet of roses, slightly crushed from being manhandled, some petals a little bruised, but still gorgeous, still vibrant.
she rolled her eyes.
so dramatic.
of course manon had bought her roses, as if that would be enough to fix everything.
for a second, just a split second, sophia considered leaving them there, a final rejection. but then—she sighed again, deeper this time, and grabbed them anyway. might as well.
with her purse over her shoulder and the bouquet in her hand, she strode toward the door—not to open it, not to let manon in, but to leave.
manon, still standing outside, held her breath when she heard the faint rustling of movement inside. she straightened, hopeful.
"soph—"
but then, instead of the door unlocking, she heard the sound of footsteps fading away.
she closed her eyes as reality sank in.
sophia wasn't going to open the door. she wasn't going to let her in.
she was leaving.
manon let out a deep, exhausted sigh, pressing her palms into her face, rubbing at her temples like she was trying to physically massage away the disappointment settling in her chest.
she almost had her.
she could feel it, taste it on her lips—she had almost won sophia over, had almost coaxed her into forgiveness, had almost melted that cold, stubborn resolve.
but almost wasn't enough.
finally, with nothing left to do, she dragged herself over to the stairwell just down the hall and plopped down onto the steps, resting her elbows on her knees. she tilted her head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling with an expression caught between amusement and exasperation.
she would win.
eventually.
for now, though?
she sighed deeply, debating wether to just lie down right there and dissolve into the floorboards when she heard a voice.
manon had never loathed a voice more than this one.
she barely had a moment to stew in her embarrassment, still slumped on the dorm steps, when that sharp, all-too-familiar voice—oozing with sarcasm and way too much delight—sliced through the air like nails on a chalkboard.
"wow. this is just sad."
manon groaned, dragging her hands down her dirt-streaked face before tilting her head up to confirm what she already knew in her very bones.
yoonchae jeong.
the teenage terror was lounging against the stair railing like she owned the place, legs crossed at the ankle, a lollipop clicking against her teeth in the most infuriating way imaginable.
now decked out in her pristine school uniform—an eye-wateringly expensive navy blazer, a crisp white button-up, and a plaid skirt that somehow managed to look cute instead of ridiculous—she was a vision of perfection. her long chestnut hair was flawlessly sleek, her makeup fresh, and her whole vibe screamed smug superiority.
she looked like she just waltzed off the set of a romcom, all sunshine and smiles. meanwhile, manon? she resembled someone who had just clawed her way out of a zombie apocalypse.
yoonchae tilted her head, dripping with faux sympathy. "no luck?"
manon let out a sharp exhale through her nose. "seriously, don't you have anything better to do?"
yoonchae gasped, clutching her chest as if manon had just delivered a fatal blow. "making people miserable is my passion, darling. i take it very seriously." she flashed a smirk. "unlike some folks who are busy pining over relationships."
manon rolled her eyes so hard she might as well have been looking for aliens. "goodbye, yooonchae."
but yoonchae was having none of it, her gaze sweeping over manon's absolute train wreck of a look—dirt-streaked denim, ripped jeans, bruises that looked like they were auditioning for a horror film, and a tank top that had seen better days. yoonchae wrinkled her nose in exaggerated horror.
"wow," she said, feigning shock. "you look like you just got mugged by a pack of angry toddlers."
manon sighed. "you should see the other guy."
yoonchae raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "oh, you mean the pole?"
manon was seriously contemplating a life of crime.
she waved her hand like she was shooing away a fly. "okay, this has been a blast, but i'm outta here before i completely lose my dignity."
just as she was about to make her grand escape—
"ah-ah-ah." yoonchae clicked her tongue, a smirk plastered on her face. "not so fast, bannerman."
manon froze, her shoulders tightening like a coiled spring.
yoonchae's grin spread slowly, like she was savoring a particularly delicious secret, and she popped her lollipop back in her mouth before dropping the bombshell.
"don't forget our deal."
manon's whole body deflated like a sad balloon.
a long, dramatic groan escaped her lips as she turned back, already regretting every life choice that led her here.
yoonchae looked like a cat that had just caught a particularly dim-witted mouse. "i want it tomorrow morning. fresh. at my doorstep. no excuses."
manon let out a sharp breath. "don't you have homework or something?"
yoonchae's grin only got wider. "don't you have a girlfriend to grovel to?"
manon glared, fully aware she had been defeated. with a weary shake of her head, she pivoted and made her exit, her footsteps echoing with frustration as she stomped away.
yoonchae couldn't help but revel in the spectacle.
as manon neared the hallway's end, yoonchae chimed in, her voice dripping with sugary sarcasm—
"catch you in the morning, darling!"
manon didn't even flinch.
she continued her march, acting like she was deaf to the taunts, all while trying to shake off the pesky high schooler with an overabundance of sass.