A Dare Taken Too Far

Emmy tapped her fingers on her glass, thinking. Then, with a slow smirk, she turned to Bonnie.

“Fine. You want a dare?” Emmy leaned in. “I dare you… to stop flirting for a whole week.”

Bonnie froze.

The group gasped.

“Wait, wait,” someone laughed. “Bonnie? No flirting? That’s impossible.”

Bonnie crossed her arms, grinning. “Easy.”

Emmy smirked. “Good. Because if you lose, you have to do whatever I say for a whole day.”

Bonnie raised a brow. “And if I win?”

“…I’ll do whatever you say.”

The room erupted in cheers.

Bonnie leaned in, her voice low and amused. “Careful, Thipanan. You might regret this.”

Emmy’s heart pounded.

Why did she feel like she just made a terrible mistake?

THE NEXT DAY

For the first time in forever, Bonnie wasn’t flirting.

No teasing looks. No smirks. No annoying winks.

And somehow? That made everything worse.

She sat quietly in class, actually paying attention. She didn’t steal Emmy’s hoodie. She didn’t hover too close.

And Emmy?

She hated it.

By day three, she cracked.

“You’re acting weird,” Emmy muttered as they walked to their dorm.

Bonnie shrugged. “I’m just following the rules.”

Emmy frowned. “You’re not even annoying me.”

Bonnie smirked. “Do you miss it?”

No.

Maybe.

Emmy looked away. “You’re unbearable.”

Bonnie chuckled. “You have no idea.”

Saturday night, Emmy woke up thirsty.

She got up, rubbing her eyes, and shuffled toward the kitchen—only to freeze.

Bonnie was standing by the fridge… wearing nothing but an oversized shirt.

Emmy’s brain short-circuited.

Bonnie turned, sipping from a water bottle. “What?”

Emmy swallowed. “Put some pants on.”

Bonnie grinned. “Why? Distracted?”

Yes.

Very.

Emmy crossed her arms. “You’re violating roommate rules.”

Bonnie smirked. “Name the rule.”

Emmy opened her mouth… and realized she had never actually made a rule about this.

Bonnie’s grin widened.

“Goodnight, Thipanan,” she said sweetly, before disappearing into her room.

Emmy stared at the fridge, willing it to erase the last thirty seconds from her memory.

It's Sunday morning.

They were arguing. Again.

Bonnie had left her books everywhere, and Emmy had enough.

“Clean up your mess,” Emmy huffed.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’ll do it later.”

“You always say that!”

Bonnie stood, stepping closer. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because you’re—”

Emmy stopped.

Bonnie was too close.

Her usual teasing smirk was gone.

Instead, her eyes flickered down—to Emmy’s lips.

For a second—just a second—Emmy thought she was going to close the gap.

But then—Bonnie stepped back.

She grabbed her books and muttered, “Fine. I’ll clean.”

Emmy stood frozen, wondering why she suddenly felt disappointed.

That night, Emmy woke up to a noise.

A soft, muffled sound.

She got up, following the sound to Bonnie’s room.

Bonnie was curled up under the blankets, brows furrowed, breathing uneven.

A nightmare.

Emmy hesitated—then reached out, gently shaking her.

Bonnie’s eyes shot open, filled with panic.

Without thinking, Emmy whispered, “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Bonnie stared at her—then, slowly, relaxed.

And before Emmy could pull away, Bonnie grabbed her wrist.

“…Stay,” Bonnie whispered.

Emmy’s heart skipped.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t want to.

For the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep fighting this anymore.

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