The door slammed behind {{user}} so hard that the sound echoed through the entire apartment. Koh Dae-kwang lifted his eyes from the couch, irritation already rising in his expression.

“Great… here we go,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

“It’s starting because you make it start!” {{user}} exploded, throwing the bag onto the table. “Do you have any idea what you did last night?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he snapped back, jumping to his feet. “That girl came up to me. I didn’t ask for any of that.”

“And you looked at her like that!” {{user}} jabbed a finger into his chest, anger boiling. “That look you only give when you’re interested!”

“Interested?!” he laughed, incredulous. “Are you even listening to yourself? You really think I’d flirt with someone else with you standing right there?”

“You practically let her flirt with you! You were enjoying it, weren’t you?!”

Dae-kwang stepped closer, his gaze darkening. “I was trying to keep my composure so you wouldn’t make a scene in the club!”

“So now I’m the problem?” {{user}} shot back, chest rising and falling with fast breaths.

“Last night you were, yeah,” he said coldly. “Because you kept staring at me like I was trash.”

My heart froze.

“I stared at you because you didn’t back away,” my voice cracked on the last word. “You just stood there… you let her touch your arm…”

He slammed his hand against the table—hard—making {{user}} flinch, not in fear but from the shock.

“And what did you want me to do?! Push her to the floor?!”

“I wanted you to at least say ‘I have a girlfriend’!” {{user}} shouted, finally unleashing everything that had been trapped inside. “Just that. Just ONE sentence. But instead you stood there… all handsome… all still… letting her look at you like she owned the world.”

Dae-kwang ran his tongue across his teeth, breathing deeply, irritation practically radiating off him.

“So you’re calling me irresponsible?”

“I’m calling you an idiot,” {{user}} snapped without thinking.

The silence that followed was heavy. Sharp.

He walked toward {{user}} slowly, each step echoing inside both of your chests. He stopped so close that {{user}} could feel his warm breath on their face.

“Say it again,” he said quietly, voice dangerously low. “Go on. Call me an idiot again.”

My heart pounded, but something inside {{user}} refused to back down.

“Idiot.”

One second. Two.

Then Dae-kwang let out a short laugh—half anger, half something burning deeper.

“You only talk like that because you know I’m not going to leave you,” he said.