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The trip is...fine.
Well. Better than fine, if Kitty's being honest. Incredible. Amazing. A little bit insane—the sheer extent of the Moon family's wealth has never been more clear. She's sent Lara Jean and Margot so many disbelieving voice messages that she suspects they're a second away from blocking her.
And spending time with Min Ho...she'd be lying to herself if she said it wasn't nice. Really nice. They've gone so many places, done so many things—had xiaolongbao in a packed dim sum restaurant in Shanghai, spent long afternoons meandering through Hyde Park, explored everything from crowded shopping streets to sprawling gardens. She's filled the empty half of her luggage with more souvenirs for her family and friends than she can count, a good three-quarters of them things that he helped her pick, looking over her shoulder to point out a particularly pretty journal or the last limited-edition tin of tea on the shelf.
All in all, it's been an unbelievably picture-perfect summer. There's just one problem: neither her nor Min Ho has talked about anything.
Sure, they've had plenty of perfectly normal, nice, easy conversations, some of them lasting late into the night. A few times they've even held hands, wordlessly lacing their fingers together so they don't lose each other in the Louvre or the busiest parts of Shibuya Crossing. But not once have they said anything about...feelings. And now it's the last night of Joon Ho's tour—they're in Toronto, planning to head back to Seoul the next morning—and Kitty is…well, she’s mostly confused and sick with nerves, but she also wants to clear things up once and for all.
(Not that she hadn't needed a bit of a push. "I have no clue what I'm doing," she'd hissed earlier, barricaded in her hotel room with her phone and a supply of minibar snacks. "Like, what am I supposed to say? 'Oh yeah, Min Ho, I know you said you were swearing off all relationships, but did you actually mean that considering we've held hands like, eleven times?'"
"At this point, yes," Q had groaned over FaceTime, rolling over in his own bed. "Please, please say something. Put me out of my misery, Kitty. I'm a tired man."
"Literally nobody with a brain would say that, though," she'd protested. "And also, I don't know, I know I talked to you about this already, but I don't want to mess things up again." The thought had suddenly felt embarrassingly drastic. "I mean, what if I ruin things between us? Permanently? I don't even know if he's still..."
"Hopelessly in love with you?"
"Aren't you blunt," Kitty muttered. "But...yeah, I guess." She sighed. "He means a lot to me, you know? Not only in that way, but as a friend too, so I'm just...scared."
There'd been a temporary silence. "Listen," Q had finally said, his tone serious. "I've known Min Ho a long time, okay? I might not be able to read his mind, but I know how he acts when he's upset or when he just doesn't care anymore. Granted, I haven't been in the same room as him for a while, but I have called him a few times, and...look, trust me when I say that he would do anything for you. I can't see the future or anything, obviously, but I don't think talking to him would hurt."
Kitty had said nothing for some time, then. "Okay," she'd managed in the end. "Thanks, Q. I owe you one."
"Yeah, what else is new," Q had grumbled in a long-suffering tone, but he'd been smiling. "Now let me go on my morning run and go work things out.")
That had been ten minutes ago. Now she's standing in front of the door to Min Ho's hotel room, fighting an urge to throw up all over the (extremely expensive, no doubt) carpet and run away, her heart in her throat.
She's not a complete idiot. At least, she'd like to think she isn't. She's caught Min Ho looking at her when he thinks she's not paying attention, a faint smile on his lips that she can't think about for more than a few seconds without turning red. Sometimes, he reaches over to tuck her hair behind her ear or swipe an eyelash off her cheek, and she swears his touch lingers, his gaze remaining on her a heartbeat longer than expected.
But after everything that happened with Stella...she's just not sure about anything. And if there's one thing she's learned from all the drama she's caused and witnessed at KISS, it's that she's done with hurting the people she cares about because she hasn't been clear about how she feels.
So she shakes her head and steels herself. "Deep breaths, Katherine Song-Covey, you've got this," she mutters under her breath, and she knocks.
A pause, then footsteps, and then the door is swinging open.
It's anticlimactic, honestly. The movies always make this kind of thing seem momentous, life-changing. But in reality, it's only that one moment Min Ho isn't there and the next he is, still in the navy sweater and black slacks he'd worn to dinner that day, and Kitty feels the same way she does every time she sees him waiting for her in the lobby or outside wherever they've promised to meet each other—a brief moment of recognition and then a sense of all-encompassing warmth, like something in her mind is saying oh, there you are.
He blinks when he sees her. "Covey? What are you doing up? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she says quickly, too quickly, and she sees his eyebrows rise a little. Great. She's already losing her mind and she's only made it through two words. "I mean," she adds, gulping, "are you going to bed soon? I was hoping I could talk to you about something."
"No, just doing some last minute packing." He turns to the side so the doorway is clear. "Come in."
She steps inside, looking around. Sure enough, there's a few items of clothing strewn across the bed and dresser, one of Min Ho's many suitcases open in the corner. He offers her the room's sole armchair, and she shakes her head. "I'll be quick," she says.
The eyebrow raise returns for a split second before he shrugs and leans against the wall. "All right, then," he says. "What is it?"
Kitty stares at him. She usually isn't the best at staying quiet, but this is one of the only times in her life that she's had trouble finding words. It feels like there's a million thoughts running through her brain, ideas on what to say first that never slow down enough for her to get a grip on them—and it doesn't help that Min Ho is looking at her like that, his gaze as steady and open as it always is these days. For just a moment she almost (only almost) wishes that he'd go back to the way he used to be, constantly scoffing and looking away.
Then he opens his mouth, no doubt to ask why the hell she's floundering in the middle of his room like a fish out of water, and because Kitty is stupid, she blurts out, "So. Uh. You know Stella?”
That might be one of the dumbest things she’s ever said. She has to stomp down the urge to kick herself because she doesn't have the time to do even that, Min Ho looks so confused. "What?" he says.
Kitty trips over her next ten words attempting to get everything out. "No, wait," she sputters, "that's not what I meant to say, I—" She stops, tries to breathe through the feeling that her heart is going to beat straight out her chest. Min Ho is still looking at her like she's hit him in the face with a brick. "I just mean, remember what you said a couple months ago? About this trip giving you a chance to bleach her from your brain?"
It's the wrong thing to say. Min Ho's expression shutters the tiniest bit. "Covey," he says slowly, "I can't lie, I don't really want to talk about her after all this time."
"I didn't want to talk about her," Kitty says, and oh god, she's doing this wrong. "I just wanted to—what I meant is..."
She's faltering, and Min Ho must know it too because he sighs, looking resigned. "Look, it's fine," he says. "I know what you mean."
Kitty blinks. "You do?"
"Yes," he replies, and she's still trying to decide between relief and further confusion when he continues with, "I know you don't feel the same way."
Huh? is all she has time to think before he's talking again, every word like a physical punch to the gut. "You obviously know how I feel about you," he says slowly, oblivious to the sirens going off in her brain. "And I've been thinking, and it's probably been awkward for you, since we've been spending so much time together this summer. You really don't have to let me down easy, though. I appreciate it, but you can just tell me directly."
What the fuck is happening? Kitty thinks, and Min Ho is still going, and nothing makes sense. "...and I'll give you space once we're back at KISS, if you want," he's saying now, and for some reason she remembers the periods of time where they weren't talking, and the thought of that happening again, of unbearable silence replacing their typical comfortable banter, is excruciating enough to finally break whatever spell's been keeping her frozen.
"Min Ho," she says, and it's so much louder than she means it to be. Min Ho's words die instantly, his eyes wide as he stares at her, and she lowers her voice. "That's not what I came here to say."
It's his turn to blink in confusion. "What?"
"I didn't show up to imply that I wanted you to leave me alone," she says, suddenly frustrated—more with herself or him, she doesn't know. "I was just thinking that we've spent all this time together, and it's obviously been great, life-changing, I loved every second of it, but we've never really talked about us. Even though I feel like we should've after I basically crashed your trip." She focuses on a corner of the pattern on the rug like it might open her up and swallow her whole, saving her from what she's about to say next. "You've got it all wrong, that's the thing. It's just that you mean so much to me, and I'm tired of ruining things with people because I can't just say the important things out loud, but at the same time...I'm terrified of making things weird."
"Kitty—" Min Ho starts, but she barely hears him. She looks up, somehow manages to make eye contact with him and hold it—if she's really going to do this, she thinks she needs to at least look at him.
"I do like you, okay?" she says, a little helplessly. "I really, really do. So much that sometimes I don't even know what to say when I see you. I brought up Stella because I remember what you said about swearing off relationships, and I didn't want to overstep that." She huffs, goes back to staring at the floor. "I know that wasn't the right way to phrase things, though—"
"Kitty," Min Ho says, and then there's silence, which may be the most agonizing thing Kitty's ever endured (and she's literally crashed into a tower of cupcakes in front of what feels like basically everyone at KISS, so). She sneaks a look at him, and he's staring at her with an expression like—well, Kitty doesn't really know what, exactly, but she suddenly remembers how he looked at her when she asked him if she could join him. When she first told him to wait, and he turned around and the expression on his face was like watching the sun rise.
She's bracing for a million different possibilities—who knows, maybe he hasn't even heard her, maybe he's about to ask her to repeat everything as if she'd even be capable of doing that—when he scrubs a hand over his face and hits her with, "You mean it?"
She fumbles for words and finally settles on the pinnacle of eloquence. "Yeah," she replies quietly. "Yeah, I do."
"Oh," he says. He pushes his hair back from his forehead, glances away. And then they're both quiet again, and Kitty doesn't think she's ever seen him look this...is he nervous?
No, she doesn't have time for this, she has other things to think about. Exhibit A: the fact that I just told him I liked him, and right before that he...he thought that only he had...
"I'm sorry," she finally says. "For not saying anything earlier."
At that, he looks back at her, the surprise in his face shockingly clear. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry," he says, with so much sincerity he startles her. "You were right, I got things wrong, I shouldn't have just assumed." He shakes his head. "I know how you feel. When you said you were terrified...I am, too. After everything with Stella, I only said that because, well, I was embarrassed after what happened on the plane. Honestly, I'm not all that used to telling people about my feelings? And I've never really felt this way about anyone, only you. So I guess I just...shut down."
Somehow, his words manage to connect in Kitty's brain, even as the world feels like it's physically slowing down around her. "So," she finally stammers out. Wow, Kitty, what a mind-blowing speech. "Just to be clear, you mean—"
"Yes, Kitty," he says, his lips curving in a smile that, combined with the sound of her first name in his mouth once again, is enough to stop her in her tracks. "I'm still in love with you." He exhales. "I don't think I ever stopped, to tell the truth."
"Right," she replies. Her heart really is going too fast for it to be healthy. "Right, that—that's good. You know, because I feel the same way."
"You did mention that," he says, and suddenly she's so overwhelmingly relieved that she throws her arms around him before she even registers that she's doing it. He catches her almost reflexively, saving them both from being thrown back into the wall of the room, and then they're just standing there, the earlier nervous tension in the room nowhere to be found. Min Ho is warm and he smells like his usual cologne (it's really not even a quarter as strong and unpleasant as she initially thought, she realizes with a flash of amusement), and Kitty doesn't think she's ever smiled so hard in her life.
She finally pulls away after a few minutes, just enough to look at him. "Well, what now?"
He laughs. "'What now?'" he echos. "Not very romantic for a matchmaker, are you?"
"I'm just saying," Kitty huffs, relieved to be in the more familiar territory of bickering with Min Ho. She plucks a loose thread from his shoulder. "You know, usually in movies and books, people would kiss right about now."
She means it to be lighthearted, conversational, a simple joke, but it lands more seriously for both of them than she intended. Min Ho nearly chokes on air (which is a way more satisfying reaction to witness than Kitty would ever admit), right before she sees an expression that's all too smug take over his face (which is decidedly less satisfying). It's not all that convincing, though—she can see hesitation lingering under all the smirking. "That can be arranged," he says. "If you're interested."
"Arranged?" Kitty raises her eyebrows at him. "What, you need a minute to fit it into your schedule?"
He touches a hand to her face, knuckles just barely brushing her cheek. "I do," he says. "You know, since right before that, I have to ask if you want to get breakfast before our flight tomorrow. On me, of course."
"Oh, so like a date."
"That is what you would call it, yes." He smiles. "There's a cafe a short drive from here. They're famous for their maritozzi. I don't know if they'll be as good, but I remember you liked the ones we tried in Milan."
"I'm in, then." Kitty feels a faint sense of surprise that he remembers, even after all the meals they've had together—but of course he does, she thinks, of course. He's Min Ho. He always remembers. "You have a really good memory, has anyone ever told you that?" she says. "It's almost like you like me a little bit."
"Go easy on me, Covey." His smile fades, replaced by something infinitely softer as his fingers graze the nape of her neck. "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed about this."
It's an objectively ridiculous thing to say, really, and it's what finally gives Kitty the courage to kiss him. She reaches up and pulls him down to meet her, and for all of Min Ho's old snappish, careless tendencies, the way he kisses her back is as gentle as how he held her that day in the rain. And Kitty's thoughts are emptying from her head, any other words she might've said are dying in her throat, but she's never been so sure about something, never felt her heart soaring like this. Her hands curl in the collar of his sweater to drag him closer, an automatic instinct that she hardly registers until he stumbles from the force of her tugging, but when she breaks away temporarily to sputter out an apology he simply shakes his head in reassurance and kisses her again, laughing a little against her mouth.
This is the thing about Min Ho, she thinks, that she's come to realize over the last few months—that despite the snide comments he makes, deep down he's more capable of tenderness than almost everyone she's ever known. That for all the times she could've lost him, all the times he could've left, he's been there when it matters—to help her carry out what's important to her or even just to offer her a shoulder to lean on.
She's made a lot of mistakes, she thinks, but she'll do whatever it takes to make sure that letting go of him won't be one of them.
It feels like ages before they break apart slowly, but eventually they do, Min Ho's hands still in her hair and at her waist, and Kitty briefly wonders if she's hallucinating. Who knows, maybe she hit her head on the way out of her room. This is too insane to be real. "Oh," she says, and then, since she's clearly never thought anything through in her life, "wow."
Too late, she realizes her mistake. Min Ho is already grinning. "I know," he says. "Crazy, right?"
"Shut up," she groans, hiding her face in his shoulder. She can feel him shaking with silent laughter, and in retaliation she hits him weakly on the arm. "You are so—so—I hate you so much."
"Do you make a habit of kissing the people you hate?" he asks innocently. "Covey, I didn't know you were so bold."
At that, Kitty makes an infuriated sound and kisses him one more time, the surprised breath he draws against her mouth enough to compensate her for a million of his most annoying remarks. She doesn't know how long this kiss lasts—it could be a second, a minute, an hour. What she does know is that the look on his face when she pulls away makes her feel like she could fly, run a marathon, get a perfect score on every final Principal Lee has ever created in his entire career. Like she could do anything.
"Thank you," she says quietly, leaning her forehead against the crook of his neck. "For letting me come with you."
"It's nothing," he replies. "I should be thanking you, really. For going with me."
"Still," Kitty says, and he hums and turns his face into her hair. They stay like that for a while, in the kind of hug that's grown pleasantly, wonderfully familiar. "I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest," she finally admits. "I mean, I know things have mostly worked out for the best, but...I've messed so many things up with so many people. Even with you too, for a bit. And I'm trying my best to avoid that kind of thing, but I—I guess I'm scared of losing you anyway."
"You won't," Min Ho says quietly. "We'll just take it one step at a time." He sweeps a kiss against her temple, and she can feel him smiling against her hair. "Anyway, you think it's so easy to get rid of me? I'm with you. No matter what."
She feels her face growing hot. "Well, we've already come this far," she huffs, burying her face in his sweater so he can't see the giddy smile spreading across her face. "No backing out now."
"Trust me, Covey," Min Ho says with a laugh, "I would never."
(Around an hour later, after they've worked out their breakfast plans and kissed a little more and Kitty has gone back to her room, Min Ho receives a text: the word "goodnight" with a sticker of something that could be a bear or a dog drawing a heart with a sparkler.
He puts his head down on the hotel desk and smiles until his face aches.)