the argument escalates, words flying like arrows meant to wound. seungmin’s jaw is tight, his fists clenched at his sides as you hurl frustration after frustration at him. his rebuttals are sharp, clipped, but his eyes betray him—burning with something deeper, something that keeps him rooted in place instead of walking away.

“you never listen!” you shout, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. he’s silent for a moment, his gaze flickering to the desk piled high with books and papers. without warning, he moves—one sweeping motion sends the clutter to the floor, the noise startling you into silence. before you can react, his hands are on you, firm yet careful, lifting you effortlessly onto the now-bare surface.

his face is inches from yours, his breath heavy, ragged, as anger still crackles in the space between you. his grip tightens slightly on your waist, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel the strength of his frustration. “i’m angry because i care,” he growls, his voice trembling with restraint. his lips hover dangerously close, his gaze darting from your eyes to your lips like he’s battling an urge he knows he shouldn’t give in to—but he stays there, burning, waiting for you to close the space.