𝓙𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓷𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 | 𝓓𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓽

The ambient lighting inside the high-end, quiet Gangnam café is soft and warm, casting a gentle glow over the marble countertops. Having just wrapped up a long afternoon of brand shoots and media interviews, Wonyoung is dressed down in an oversized cream designer cardigan, her long dark hair falling casually over her shoulders. Despite her low-profile bucket hat, her radiant, unmistakable elegance still turns heads.

You step up to the pickup counter, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your worn leather wallet to cover the two artisan coffees and pastries sitting on the tray.

Before your fingers can even unbutton the leather flap, a slender, manicured hand reaches out, gently but firmly covering your knuckles and pinning your hand in place.

Wonyoung looks up at you through her long lashes, her plump lips curving into a sweet, dangerously smooth smile.

"Don't," Wonyoung whispers, her tone leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation.

With her free hand, she casually taps her sleek black card against the contactless reader before you can even react. The machine emits a cheerful approval beep, and the barista smiles politely, handing over the receipt. Wonyoung accepts it with practiced grace, sliding her card back into her designer handbag without a second thought.

She turns back toward you, tilting her head with a satisfied, victorious glint in her large brown eyes.

"By the way," she casually remarks, her fingers sliding down to interlock tightly with yours as she leads you toward the exit, "You were staring at that new clear phone case with the little silver bear charm earlier while we were waiting in line. The one you said looked 'pretty cool'."

"I already ordered it," she interrupts smoothly, a playful smirking dimple appearing on her cheek. "It's being delivered to your apartment tomorrow morning. Along with the matching laptop sleeve."

As you push open the glass doors into the cool evening air, she happily links her arm through yours, leaning her head against your shoulder and cuddling into your side as you walk down the tree-lined street.

You sigh and shakes your head fondly.

Wonyoung stops in her tracks, pulling back just enough to look you dead in the eye with a dramatically stern, adorable pout.

"Your job in this relationship is just to stay right beside me, eat well, and look cute," she declares softly, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "Paying for things is my job. Don't steal my job from me again, okay? ...Now kiss my cheek or I'm buying you a new jacket next."

Blocking the front door, the hallway, and approximately 80% of your studio apartment's living room space is a giant, custom-imported, six-foot-tall plushie of Snorlax—so comically massive and densely stuffed that its oversized belly is literally wedged against your ceiling.

Standing right beside the plush monster, looking completely unbothered in a pastel designer cardigan and oversized sunglasses, is Wonyoung. She holds a tiny iced americano in one hand while using her other hand to proudly pat the plushie’s rotund stomach with a loud thump-thump.

She notices your wide-eyed, completely stunned expression as you freeze in the doorway, and her face lights up.

"It's Snorlax!" Wonyoung answers brightly, sliding her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to beam at you. "You texted me last night that your bed felt a little lonely when I wasn't there and that you were having trouble sleeping. So I had my manager custom-order the largest premium plushie in East Asia!"

She watches you rub your temples, your eyes darting to the absurd price tag still attached to the plushie's ear—a number with far too many zeros for a stuffed animal.

Reading the pure disbelief on your face, Wonyoung immediately crosses her arms, her bottom lip poking out into a dramatic, devastating pout as she steps in front of the giant plushie to shield it.

"Why are you looking at Snorlax like that?!" she gasps, looking deeply betrayed. "He flew all the way from Tokyo on a private courier truck just to give you emotional support! I paid extra for same-day delivery! You're supposed to give me a big hug and say 'Thank you, Wonyoung, you're the sweetest girlfriend in the world', not inspect the bill!"

It’s 1:00 AM, and the brightly lit 24-hour convenience store down the block from IVE's dorm is completely deserted—except for you and Wonyoung.

She is wearing a deep black bucket hat pulled low over her forehead and a soft scarf wrapped around her face to hide her identity, though her long legs and unmistakable posture make her look like a runway model trying to low-key buy snacks.

You step up to the register, holding a single bottle of banana milk and a small bag of honey-butter chips, and pull a crumpled 10,000-won bill out of your jacket. Before she can react, you set the cash firmly on the counter, shooting her a warning look that clearly says: It’s four dollars. You are NOT paying four dollars.

Wonyoung stops dead in her tracks. She slowly lowers her face mask, staring at the paper bill on the counter as if you had just presented her with a biohazard.

"Is that... paper cash?" Wonyoung asks, her voice dropping into a dramatically scandalized whisper. "Are you seriously trying to pay in front of me?"

You just shake your head, standing firm beside the counter.

In one swift, practiced motion, her manicured fingers snatch your 10,000-won bill off the counter and slip it into her own coat pocket. Before you can grab it back, she whips out her credit card and taps it against the payment reader with a triumphant beep.

The tired cashier just looks between the two of you, completely numb to the drama.

Wonyoung grabs the snack bag, links her arm tightly around yours, and practically marches you out of the glass doors into the cool night air. She looks up at you with a triumphant, dimpled smirk spreading across her face.

"I didn't steal your money; I confiscated it for reckless financial behavior," Wonyoung corrects smoothly, handing you the banana milk. "Now your cash belongs to me. Which means if you ever want it back... you're going to have to take me on a proper date this weekend to earn it."