hyeongjun stood across from you on the dimly lit rooftop, his usual confidence replaced with something far more conflicted. “hand it over,” he commanded, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his hesitation. you twirled the small artifact between your fingers, feigning indifference. “why should i? it’s not like you can stop me.” your taunt was sharp, but it carried an undertone of something else—a pull neither of you could ignore.

“you can’t keep doing this,” he snapped, stepping closer. “this isn’t who you are.” his words stung, more than you cared to admit. “don’t pretend to know me, hyeongjun,” you shot back, the edge in your voice sharper than the daggers strapped to your side. “just because we... share something doesn’t mean you can dictate my choices.”

the tension reached its peak when you lunged toward him, aiming to escape, but he miscalculated his block. his arm swung out, too forceful in his rush to stop you. the impact was immediate—a searing pain shot through your shoulder as you stumbled back, crashing hard against the ground.

the color drained from his face as he realized what had happened. “no, no—i didn’t mean to...” he knelt beside you, his hands hovering over your injured form, unsure where to start. guilt weighed heavy in his eyes as he whispered your name, his voice trembling. but you turned your head away, fighting back tears as much from the pain as the sting of betrayal. even in that moment, you hated how much you still wanted him to stay.