You’re out with the RIIZE boys after a shoot. Everyone’s teasing and messing around, and one of the newer stylists makes a harmless comment:

“You look really good today. Must be the Sungchan effect.”

You laugh. You’re polite. You say thanks.

But Sungchan?

He stops mid-drink.

You can feel the shift.

He doesn’t say anything — just stares. His smile fades. He keeps his arm around your chair, but now it feels more like a claim than a casual gesture.

On the way back, he’s dead quiet. No jokes. No humming. Just vibes — sharp and stormy.

You finally ask:

“Are you mad?”

He looks at you like you already know the answer.

“Why’d you smile like that?” “You never smile like that when I compliment you.”

You blink, caught off guard.

“He literally just said I looked good—”

“Exactly. And you loved hearing it.”

You try to calm him down, but he’s already pacing in the dorm room, running a hand through his hair.

“Do you think I like watching someone else flirt with you in front of me?” “Do you know what that feels like? I’m standing right there and you’re giving your attention to someone else.”

His voice cracks near the end, not out of sadness — but frustration. He’s trying so hard to stay composed.

You step in, hold his wrist gently. He looks down at you, eyes burning, breathing heavy.

“Sungchan… you’re the only one I look at.”

He finally exhales. Shaky. Relieved. A little guilty.

Then he pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your neck, whispering:

“I’m sorry. I just… can’t stand the idea of someone else thinking they have a chance with you. You’re mine.”

And the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you out of his sight. Not even for a second.