Chapter Text
mansplainivan [4:17 PM]:
shes coming after the party starts
like at 9pm
also she hates butterscotch
in case u were planning on getting anything close to that
Mizi whined as she looked at her phone in the middle of the party decoration section of the store. Glittery banners and confetti bombs shone onto her like mocking witnesses.
Of course one of the cakes she had ordered was of butterscotch flavour. Idiot. The one time she tries to go beyond basic flavours, to be somewhat elegant and put her extreme sweet tooth aside– and it backfires almost immediately.
“Whatever,” she mumbled to herself as she sent a thumbs up to Ivan’s message. She grabbed some paper cups off the shelf and checked off a few items off her list. Atleast the other cake was chocolate. Everyone loves chocolate. Who wouldn’t? She pat herself on the back for thinking of bringing a neutral cake. Genius.
Her phone buzzed again.
mansplainivan [4:19 PM]:
btw she hates chocolate too
Mizi stared at the screen before letting her head fall back in exasperation. This sister of his– who she still didn’t know the name of– was starting to irritate her without even having shown up yet. She seemed picky. A culinary menace.
How could anyone hate both butterscotch and chocolate? It made no sense. That covered like…90% of the entire cake population. What did she even eat? Air? Unsweetened yogurt?
Oh god. What if she’s one of those almond moms?
What if she replaced all the snacks in the pantry with almond flour crackers and weird dried fruit no one actually likes? What if she brought in jars of powdered greens and said things like “this helps with inflammation”? Mizi heard Hyuna’s boyfriend say that once and she almost threw up.
Mizi shuddered dramatically, the kind of reaction she usually reserved for horror movies and ugly clothes. She tossed a pack of streamers into the cart and shook her head.
This girl better be nice. Or pretty. Or, at the very least, not an almond mom. Yeah. That’d work.
Mizi, of course, had a long-standing habit of forming very strong opinions about people she’d never actually met. She’d had this habit ever since she was younger, and had used it to create her posse back in high school.
But hey, she was usually right.
Except for that one time with Ivan.
And Till.
…And maybe Dewey, too.
But those were exceptions. Obviously. They were boys. And Mizi was always careful about guys and their intentions.
She conveniently ignored the time she misjudged Hyuna— who, notably, was not a boy. Whatever. They were all friends now, so it didn’t matter.
She wheeled her cart forward, tossing in random items that felt flashy enough for her and mundane enough for Ivan.
(there was barely anything that fit both categories)
“Who even hates butterscotch and chocolate?” she muttered under her breath, glaring at a pack of plain vanilla cupcakes like they personally offended her. The image dazzled at her face, almost mocking her for her stupid decision to buy both flavours that his sister would hate.
It was just a cake. She knew that. She knew that. If Ivan didn’t care either, then what was the big deal? But still! Something about this mysterious sister’s aggressively boring taste in desserts rubbed her the wrong way. Even Ivan loved sweet things, and he's boring .
She shook the feeling off, blaming it on the chaos of the day instead.
Boring classes. Gross dudes. Traffic. Last-minute shopping (which, by the way, was not her fault), no sales, no time to window shop. A picky sister was just the cherry on top.
There was this weird little pressure blooming in her chest. The one she gets when things aren’t going her way. Maybe some of the pressure was due to her wanting to actually try.
Probably because this girl was going to be living with them for an indefinite amount of time.
Probably because Mizi is absolutely dogshit at first impressions.
( This must be what it feels like to be a bride trying to impress her sister-in-law, Mizi thought grimly.)
She wasn’t nervous, exactly. Just… mildly spiraling. But that was normal. Right?
Right.
Maybe she was also just a little annoyed with Ivan. Just a little.
How do you not mention a whole sister? A literal girl version of him, who shares 50% of his DNA and presumably his weird obsession with cold soba? Someone he grew up with? They’d spoken every single day since that one mixer, and only now , when she’s about to be living with them, does he casually drop that he has a sister?
Honestly, Mizi should be the one acting picky. Not anyone else.
Stupid Ivan.
Okay, not stupid Ivan. It's his birthday today. Gotta be nice, even internally.
She rolled her cart to the checkout counter and went on her phone instead of watching the total price go up by each item.
──── ˙⋆✮ 4EVER ˙⋆✮ ────
"I'm back!" Mizi yelled as she kicked open the door, the back hitting the wall with a sturdy thud .
"Watch the door, idiot." Ivan said, scrolling through different channels on the tv.
Mizi narrowed her eyes at him as she dumped six paper bags onto the kitchen counter, one of which promptly tipped over and rolled out packets of chips, rolls of streamers and balloon packets.
"Care to help?"
Ivan glanced down and grimaced at the streamers before looking back at the TV. "I'm providing moral support."
"Great. Thanks." Mizi deadpanned, catching a bag of plastic forks before it hit the floor. “Tell me which channel plays ‘your roommate single-handedly prepares your birthday party while you do nothing.’ That’s the one I want to watch.”
He smirked but didn’t budge. "I didn't ask you to do any of this. In fact, I strongly rejected the idea, so this is all for you to handle."
“You’re lucky it’s your birthday,” she muttered, ripping open one of the bags. “Otherwise I’d be cutting you out of my life right now. Snip snip. Poof. Gone.”
“That’s what you said last week when I ate the last pudding cup.”
“And I meant it!” she snapped, then paused. “You still owe me pudding, by the way. Thanks for the reminder.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, finally dragging himself off the couch to peek inside the bags. “You got the banner?”
“Obviously.”
He reached in and pulled it out. “It’s pink.”
"It’s rose gold. Classy color for an unclassy man — I know, it was a tough call."
Ivan gave her a flat look. “It’s glittery.”
“You’re welcome.”
"Mizi," He groaned and held it like it personally offended him. "You know I’m not a glitter guy. Not since you dumped an entire jar into the wiring of my prototype robot."
Mizi waved a hand. “You’re not a lot of things, Ivan. But, tonight, you are happy. You are free. You're rose gold. You're glittering.”
He groaned, dropping the banner with a whump . Mizi grimaced at his messy hair and the way he slouched in his sloppy clothes. Honestly, even a homeless guy could pull off a better look than this.
Everyone’s getting here at eight,” she said pointedly. “So. You know. Might wanna do something about your hair. Or… your personality. Or your outfit.”
“My hair looks fine.” He said, patting his hair down.
“It looks like you just woke up from a nap.”
“I did just wake up from a nap. Waking me up at midnight to scream happy birthday wasn't planned for and my sleep cycle was interrupted.”
Mizi groaned. “Ivan. It’s your birthday. There are going to be pictures.”
“No one cares what I look like, Mizi.”
“I care,” she said, pointing a glittery streamer at him like a weapon. “I am not throwing a mediocre party for a mediocre-looking man.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter. “Is everyone coming?”
“Till said yes, so you should look less homeless.”
“I didn’t ask about him specifically—”
“But you were going to,” Mizi cut in, smirking as she flicked the streamer at his face. Ivan scowled, cheeks tinged just barely pink.
“I’m gonna go get ready.” he muttered, turning away.
“Should we match outfits?”
“Ew. No. People already think we’re dating.”
“Please,” Mizi scoffed. “As if you could ever win me over.”
Ivan laughed and disappeared into the bathroom.
Mizi, meanwhile, got to work. Unboxing bags and spreading supplies out across the kitchen like she was preparing for battle.
She still had to hang up streamers, arrange the party hats, set out the cakes and appetizers, confirm the pizza order hadn’t mysteriously cancelled itself, hang the banner, shower, get dressed, and double-check literally everything.
It was already 5:15. She had three hours.
She muttered a curse under her breath for her lack of time management and got moving.
──── ˙⋆✮ 4EVER ˙⋆✮ ────
Two hours later, the apartment looked like a birthday party cannon had exploded.
Confetti covered the floor—a major safety hazard, Ivan noted internally. Party hats were lined up neatly on the counter, snacks filled the coffee table, drinks waited to be cracked open, and a movie sat paused on the TV screen. This was probably the most organised and tidy the apartment had ever been.
All that was left was the banner.
The banner that Mizi was trying very hard not to rip to pieces.
She stood precariously on the couch, one socked foot dangerously close to slipping, (where had the other sock even gone?) as she struggled to tape the banner above the TV.
fix It read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY IBANNY”, something Ivan had yet to comment on and Mizi would anyway ignore.
The banner kept falling. And so was Mizi’s patience.
“This is so fucked up,” she muttered through gritted teeth. She clutched the ends of the banner, ready to go full feral on it.
“Need a hand?” Ivan asked, towel-drying his hair as he entered the room.
Mizi shot him a tired look over her shoulder. “Get your freakishly long arms over here and tape this up. I’m over it.”
He put the towel down and took the corner of the banner from Mizi. As he taped it up, she glanced over at his outfit: slightly baggy jeans and a fitted navy blue sweater, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms like he hadn’t meant to look good, but somehow absolutely did. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends in a way that made him look like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.
Mizi narrowed her eyes at him. “Huh.”
“What?” Ivan asked, still focused on the banner.
“You actually look… decent when you try,” she said, tilting her head. “I could use you as a model for some of my stuff.”
"Sure. My hotness is my only redeeming quality, after all." Ivan said flatly as he moved away from the wall to assess the banner.
"Debatable," Mizi said, stepping next to him and crossing her arms. "It's crooked."
"You're crooked."
"Shut up," She bumped into his shoulder. "That doesn't even make sense."
Ivan stood next to her. “Thanks. For… all of this.”
Mizi shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Please. I only did it because I don’t trust you to plan your own birthday. You’d probably have made everyone sit in a circle and rank their favourite sad sandwiches.”
Ivan laughed. “That’s a good icebreaker.”
“Better than the ones we had at the mixer.”
He rolled his eyes but smiled. “Still… thanks.”
She glanced at him briefly, then looked away. “Don’t get all sentimental. I’ll cry and ruin my eyeliner. Then you'll have to buy me a new one. An expensive one. With your money. Plus the pudding.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll save my gratitude speech for the cake-cutting.”
Mizi clapped her hands once. “Speaking of cake, where the hell do I hide the butterscotch one? I don’t want your sister to think I bought it just for her.”
Ivan watched her disappear into the kitchen, rambling once again about just how could anyone hate butterscotch? and let himself smile a little.
The apartment looked good. Warm. Lived-in. Birthday-fied.
He glanced at the banner again, a tiny sigh slipping through his nose.
Ibanny.
──── ˙⋆✮ 4EVER ˙⋆✮ ────
Mizi put on her favorite lip gloss, cherry-strawberry flavored, then smacked her lips twice and studied her reflection in the mirror.
She swiped a finger under her lower lash line, checking for any smudged eyeliner, then leaned back to take in the whole picture. Hair— fine, with soft curls at the ends that bounced just enough. Outfit— cute, but casual enough to pretend she hadn’t tried too hard. Lip gloss— shiny enough that, honestly, she’d make out with herself if she could.
She’d added a few navy-blue accents to her outfit—just enough to subtly match with Ivan. Not so much that it was obvious, but enough to satisfy her love for coordinated looks, whether or not Ivan appreciated them. She was a fashion student, what could you expect?
Her gaze flicked to the time on her phone—7:51. The apartment was spotless now. Ivan had cleared away his sports gear, vacuumed up the stray confetti, and, miraculously, the banner was still taped in place. Drinks chilled in the cooler, candles stood ready to be lit, and the playlist she’d spent an hour curating was humming softly through the speakers.
Perfect. Everything was going according to plan, firmly under her control.
She should’ve felt calm. She didn’t.
Everything was in her hands. Except one thing.
Ivan’s sister. The mysterious, brooding sister Mizi hadn’t even known existed until last week.
(She’d even stalked all of Ivan’s socials and found nothing about a sister. Stupid Ivan.)
Mizi wasn’t nervous about meeting new people— she was good at that. She was just irritated that there’d be something tonight she couldn’t manage, predict, or neatly fold into her vision of the evening. Something she hadn’t planned for. It made her feel… uneasy. Like she didn’t know what the next hour would hold. And she hated that. She had always hated that. That feeling of being puppeteered and having no power irked something deep within her.
“You look like you’re about to punch the mirror,” Ivan said from behind her.
Mizi blinked, catching his reflection in the glass, her heart beating loudly against her chest. “Was I? That’s funny.”
She cracked a smile and turned to face him. “Well? How do I look?”
Ivan’s gaze lazily flicked over her once, quick but thorough, like he was taking in a motherboard of a new robot he was building. He always did that, regarding people as though they were technology rather than sentimental beings.
“Presentable,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Mizi scoffed. “I look amazing.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t.” He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “But if I hype you up too much, your ego might explode before the guests even get here. And then I'll have to entertain them.”
Mizi slipped her phone into her back pocket and stepped toward him, chin tilted up. “You wouldn’t last five minutes without me.”
Ivan didn’t deny it, which was as good as a confession in his language.
“Speaking of guests,” she said, brushing past him toward the living room, “remember—be nice to everyone.”
“I’m always nice.”
She threw him a look over her shoulder. “Nice in human terms, not Ivan terms.”
He smirked faintly. "Sure."
"Is your sister still going to be here at nine?"
"Yeah, I think so."
She narrowed her eyes. “You think so?”
Ivan shrugged. “Train schedules aren’t my fault.”
Mizi groaned. “You could’ve at least gotten a definite answer. I planned this whole thing down to the last candle.”
“Exactly,” he said, pushing off the doorway. “You’ve planned enough. Let one thing be a surprise.”
“That’s not how I function.”
He smirked as they walked into the living room, but his eyes flicked toward the door, betraying that he’d been thinking about her arrival too.
Somewhere in the hallway, a muffled knock echoed.
Mizi spun around to face Ivan. "People are here!"
The two smiled at each other and skipped— well, Mizi skipped, Ivan walked— to the door.
Ivan opened the door to the sound of overlapping voices spilling in from the hall.
“—told you we were on time—”
“You call this on time?”
Hyuna swept in first, long hair glossy and perfect despite the winter air, with Luka trailing behind carrying a paper bag that smelled unmistakably like chicken. Dewey followed, already halfway through a can of something he must’ve cracked open before even getting inside.
"Happy birthday, dude!" Hyuna and Dewey said at the same time, engulfing Ivan in a hug as he cringed and hugged them back. "You're so old now!"
"I'm younger than you guys—"
“Whoa,” Dewey said, scanning the apartment. “This is… weirdly clean. Whose doing was this?”
Mizi raised a hand from across the room. “Mine. Try not to ruin it in the first five minutes.”
Hyuna gave her a quick hug, Luka nodded in greeting, and Dewey flopped onto the couch like he owned it.
Ivan shut the door, glancing at the cluster of them. “Coats on the rack. Shoes off.”
“Bossy,” Hyuna muttered but kicked hers off anyway, one just barely missing a glass on the coffee table.
The energy in the room shifted. It was warm and loud now. That was what Mizi loved about her friends: she didn’t have to pretend around them. Not with Dewey carelessly dripping sauce onto his shirt or Hyuna blissfully unaware that personal space was even a concept.
Isaac, Jacob, and Hyun-woo arrived together, arms loaded with food and voices raised in easy chatter. They swarmed Ivan, Hyun-woo tugging playfully at his cheeks while Jacob and Isaac remarked that he looked unusually happy today.
Then, after a while, a knock sounded at the door.
Mizi straightened. That had to be Ivan’s sister— everyone else was already here.
She and Ivan rose at the same time, their chairs scraping faintly against the floor. The chatter behind them blurred into background noise as they crossed the room in sync. Mizi’s pulse quickened; she could almost see Ivan’s sister in her mind’s eye, framed by the doorway.
This was the moment she had been preparing for. Finally, she could meet her best friend's sister and future roommate.
Ivan’s hand closed around the knob, turning it with deliberate slowness. The hinges gave a quiet, suspenseful creak as the door eased open. Mizi braced herself, breath caught—
Till.
That stupid, emo twink was standing there instead of Ivan’s sister.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Mizi asked, annoyed.
Till widened his eyes, glancing between Mizi and Ivan, ears red. "What do you mean? You invited me?
Mizi frowned at him. "Did I?"
His shoulders dropped as he stared at her, dumbfounded.
Ivan suddenly slung an arm around Till, grinning— really grinning. “Till, you made it! Right on time!”
“Actually, he’s almost half an hour late—”
Ivan planted a hand on Mizi’s face and shoved her out of the way, ushering Till inside like a VIP guest and loudly introducing him to everyone as if they hadn't just met only two times before. The sudden burst of warmth and animation from him caught her completely off guard.
Till mumbled an awkward greeting to the room, but Ivan clapped him on the back like they were long-lost friends. “Everybody, this is Till! The life of the party ,” he announced with theatrical flourish, completely ignoring the fact that Till looked like he’d rather melt into the floor.
Isaac whistled and shoved a paper party hat onto Till’s head before he could protest. Hyun-woo pressed a cupcake into his hands. Jacob was already dragging him toward the couch, demanding to know if he could play guitar for the group later.
Somewhere in the whirlwind, music started up, paper cups got filled, and Mizi found herself squeezed between Isaac and Hyuna, laughing as they argued over who’d brought the best snacks, cheeks rosy and cup half empty in her hand.
Ivan was still hovering near Till, talking in an animated way that Mizi had never seen before, leaning in close, grinning, even gesturing with his hands like he was telling the world’s most important story.
"Gay." She giggled to herself as Hyuna grabbed Mizi's shoulder to pull her in for a tight hug.
She’d meant to keep an eye on the door, to make sure she didn’t miss Ivan’s sister’s arrival. But after the second round of cupcakes, fourth round of drinks and the sixth loud burst of laughter from their side of the room, her resolve slipped.
By the time the pizza was ordered, she’d almost forgotten there was anyone else they were waiting for.
──── ˙⋆✮ 4EVER ˙⋆✮ ────
They were in the middle of a pretty heated game of UNO, and Mizi had just slammed down her third +4 card in a row on Ivan.
The table erupted. Isaac howled with laughter, Hyun-woo nearly fell off his chair, and Jacob banged his fist against the table, chanting, “Draw! Draw! Draw!” like a man at a boxing match. Even Luka was quietly smiling and pumping his fist next to Hyuna.
Ivan stared at the stack of cards in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. “You’re a menace,” he muttered, but the corners of his lips twitched upward.
Till, sitting to Ivan’s left, leaned over to peek at his cards. “You can… technically put down your own +2, you know,” he offered quietly.
Ivan glanced at him, then back at Mizi, then at him again. Slowly, deliberately, he slid the entire heap of cards toward himself without a word.
“You’re just gonna take it?” Mizi said, grinning in triumph.
Ivan gave a tiny shrug. “Maybe I like a challenge.” His gaze flicked toward Till for just a second too long before he started fanning out his ridiculous hand of cards.
As the game went on, the doorbell rang. “Pizza!” Hyuna and Hyun-woo shouted in perfect unison— twins in timing. Well, they were siblings; maybe that kind of thing came naturally to them.
Mizi excitedly got up and almost ran to the door, thinking of the triple cheese pizza she had ordered and how good it was about to taste with even more alcohol.
She yanked the door open with a bright, “Hey! You can just give it to me right he—”
The words stopped mid-air.
Instead of a middle-aged delivery guy in a cap, there was a short girl. About her age. Maybe younger. Pretty, in a quiet, unnerving way. Dark hair tucked behind one ear, oversized hoodie, and holding what Mizi assumed was a pizza bag.
Mizi blinked. “…Uh, you can just leave the… the triple cheese, uh, pizza—” She stumbled over her words as she took her in. Wow. Pretty eyes.
The girl tilted her head. “What?”
“The pizza,” Mizi repeated, slower this time.
For a second, the stranger looked like she might laugh, but instead her face stayed impassive. “I’m not delivering anything. This is dorm 70B, right?” She glanced past Mizi into the apartment. “I’m looking for Ivan.”
From behind her, Hyuna shouted, “Mizi, you’re taking forever with the pizza! Mama’s hungry!”
Mizi stayed frozen in the doorway, still holding her wallet like an idiot. “…You’re not the delivery girl?”
“No,” Sua said, raising an eyebrow as she gave Mizi a one over.
“If you’re not delivering the pizza…” Mizi’s eyes narrowed, her gaze flickering over the girl in front of her. She reminded her of Ivan. The same black hair, the same unreadable expression, the same sharp, intense eyes. No doubt about it, they could be—
“Sua.” Ivan’s voice cut through the moment as he stepped past Mizi, causing her to stumble slightly into the doorframe, her balance never quite steady after a few drinks. “You’re here.”
The girl glanced up at Ivan, and for the first time, the corners of her mouth softened just a fraction. “Ivan. Hey.” Their brief hug was quick and almost businesslike, but genuine.
Ivan took the bag from her— the one Mizi had assumed held pizza— and turned to her with a smile. “This is Mizi. Mizi, this is Sua, my sister.”
Sua?
Mizi stared at Ivan’s sister, realising slamming into her bones. She’d just mistaken Ivan’s sister for a delivery guy. Fuck. Her face flushed red as she squeezed her eyes shut, cringing.
She turned to Sua and forced a sheepish smile, brushing a hand through her hair as she tried to sober up a little. Why had she drank so much? Probably Hyuna’s influence. “Hey, hi. Let me just— hi.” She awkwardly stuck her hand out to Sua.
Sua looked down at her hand for a moment before taking it, shaking it a little. Her grip was firm and her skin felt like Mizi was touching silk pillows. Her hand felt small in her hold and she had an urge to never pull away.
She ignored the tug in her mind screaming at her to act normal, to be friendlier instead of just awkwardly shaking Sua’s hand. Instead, she grabbed the bag from Ivan.
“Let me take this and show your sister around. You enjoy the party.”
“But—” Ivan started, a nervous look flickering across his face at the thought of them being alone, especially with Mizi drunk.
“Go.” Mizi shoved him gently aside, then turned back to Sua. “Right, so—hello. Hey. Yeah, okay… let me just… show you around.” She sighed, exasperated with herself. Her head felt like it was about to roll off onto the ground.
Mizi led Sua through the cramped hallway, her heels clicking softly against the scuffed floor. She couldn’t help but notice how quiet Sua was, following closely, almost like a mouse tagging along without a sound. It was sort of cute. Mizi smiled a little to herself, imagining little mouse ears sprouting from Sua's head.
Not a word had passed between them since the door, and Mizi found herself wondering what the quiet girl was thinking.
They passed a sticky spot on the floor— the remnants of Dewey’s latest party casualty—and Mizi grimaced. “Watch your step here. Dewey’s been treating the floor like a buffet.”
Sua gave a faint smile but said nothing, listening and watching her step.
Finally, Mizi stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall. “This is your room. I made it nice. Well, nicer than usual dorm standards.” She chuckled awkwardly. “No weird stains or creepy crawlies, I promise. Your brother's a clean freak. And you’re the only one who gets a mini fridge. Pretty fancy, huh?”
Sua smiled and nodded politely, letting out a hum and tilting her head just a bit as if weighing her words, but she stayed silent.
The two stepped into the room, and Mizi set her bag down carefully next to the bed. She turned to Sua, who was quietly taking in the space, her hands gently clasped together resting just below her stomach.
Mizi scratched the back of her neck, suddenly self-conscious. “Hey, about earlier… sorry I thought you were the pizza delivery guy. I may have had a little too much to drink— Hyuna’s fault.”
Sua looked up at her, intense eyes seeming so soft. "You seem to blame a lot on the others," she said, a soft smile on her lips.
The taller one felt her chest buzz at the sound of Sua's voice. Wow, her body felt warm. Was that the alcohol?
She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck again. “Yeah, maybe I do. But hey, Hyuna is a bad influence. And Dewey is a gross mess. And Ivan is… well, you'd know.”
Sua’s smile widened just a fraction, and for a moment, Mizi caught a flicker of something— amusement? Approval?
“Well,” Mizi said, gesturing toward the living room, “if you’re ready, I’ll introduce you to everyone properly. No more pizza mix-ups, I promise. They're all super nice, too.”
Sua nodded. "I'd love to."
Still quiet, that's okay. She'd bring her out of her shell like she did with Ivan.
Mizi led Sua back into the living room, where the noise and laughter swirled around them like a warm current. She cleared her throat, drawing the group’s attention.
“Hey, everyone, this is Sua, Ivan’s sister.” She gave a small smile, hoping to smooth over the earlier awkwardness.
Sua smiled sweetly and gave a slight wave. "I've heard a lot about you all. Ivan is lucky to be surrounded by you guys." Her dark eyes scanned the room carefully, taking everything in like a shadow moving softly through the chaos. Mizi looked at her, and she swore Sua was radiating a golden aura around her.
"I'm Hyuna!" The brunette grinned, putting an elbow on Hyun-woo's head. "This is my brother, Hyun-woo, and that's my boyfriend Luka."
"I'm Dewey."
"Name's Isaac."
"Jacob, nice to meet you!"
"Till."
"And you know Ivan," Mizi smiled, gesturing at the taller.
They made space for Mizi and Sua in the circle and continued playing different games. Mizi tried her best to include Sua in the chatter, including her in the topic of conversation or sharing a silly story to draw her out. But Sua stayed mostly quiet, watching everything with calm, observant eyes, like she was cataloging each moment.
Mizi caught herself glancing at Sua more often than she intended—how her lips twitched just slightly at a joke, how she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear with careful precision, how her gaze briefly met hers before flicking away. Mizi was most probably imagining the last bit, but she was still drunk and she didn't really care all that much.
On the other side, Sua seemed to notice too. Mizi caught her looking when she thought no one was paying attention, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Maybe she was just as curious about Mizi.
Mizi noticed how Sua’s eyes quietly followed the others as they joked and teased, never rushing to jump in. Instead, she seemed content simply to be there, her calm presence quietly grounding the room. There was a subtle weight to her— heavy, but in a good way.
Mizi focused on making sure Sua didn’t feel out of place, offering her snacks, explaining inside jokes, and inviting her to pass the cards during the games. She made sure that she was comfortable, and offered her water. Anything to fix her earlier impression.
Eventually, the night wore on, and Sua shifted slightly, a polite smile softening her expression. “I think I should get going soon,” she murmured quietly. Mizi’s heart skipped, the warmth in her chest growing at the sound of Sua’s voice.
“Already?” Mizi asked, tilting her head. She had only been with them an hour.
Sua nodded. “I’m pretty tired. But thank you.”
Mizi nodded and watched as Sua stood, quietly waving goodbye to everyone still sprawled on the floor and couch. Ivan rose too, falling naturally into step beside her as he gently guided her toward the hallway, probably to steal some of that sibling time Mizi had accidentally interrupted earlier.
She caught Till’s eyes lingering on Ivan as he followed them, a faint smirk playing on Mizi’s lips. Idiots, she thought.
Part of her wanted to trail behind Sua’s retreating figure, to check if the blankets were soft enough, if the water bottle on the nightstand was still full, if she needed anything at all. She knew she should be a good host. But those were Ivan’s responsibilities for now.
Instead, Mizi stayed behind, sinking back onto the couch, the warmth of the night still buzzing in her chest. She let herself huff out a breath before Luka elbowed her in the face as he and Hyuna started to make out, and she groaned and shoved him off. Gross.
She finally let go of whatever had been holding her back from the drinks (yeah, Sua, obviously) and dove headfirst into the party with the rest of them. Tomorrow, she’d have time to figure out how she was going to live with two siblings— one of whom was drop-dead gorgeous.
Future and sober Mizi would know exactly how to adapt to living with a hot, nerdy lawyer. Of course she would.