it takes a night out at the club for you to stop pretending you’re not in love with your best friend.
“You don’t get a choice tonight, babe. You’re here. So just be here.”
Before you can protest, Chaeryeong wraps her arms around your neck and presses herself to the front of your body, and all at once you forget how to breathe. Sure, you’ve danced with plenty of girls just like this. Hell, many of those girls were Chaeryeong’s friends. But now, with your best friend pressed against you, her hands clasped at the nape of your neck and her dark eyes twinkling up at you, you feel your stomach tie itself into knots.
Her hips move from side to side to the music, and you’re so stunned that it takes you several beats to rest your hands on them, gripping onto the thin fabric of her skirt. Fuck, she feels incredible.
Chaeryeong’s heady gaze is trained on you, and you’re transfixed. It’s like you can’t hear the music anymore, all of your senses tunneling to the way she feels in your arms, her breath against your face, and those gorgeous eyes of hers. You have never, ever seen her look at you this way before, and it makes your blood run hot.
Your skin tingles as you sway back and forth, letting Chaeryeong lead you along to the beat. You swallow the lump in your throat.
“Chaeryeong, I—” Your best friend lays a manicured finger upon your parted lips, effortlessly silencing you.
“Don’t ruin this, bitch boy slut. Just dance with me.”
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