The hum of computers filled the air like static electricity, punctuated by the dry clicking of keys and the muffled voices of online games. Rows of boys hunched over their screens, lost in the glowing haze of the digital world. At the back, in the only booth dimly lit by a blinking LED, sat Geum Seong-je, your boyfriend.

His headset was slightly tilted upward, above one ear. His fingers danced over the keys, fluid and precise, his eyes never leaving the screen. A cold energy surrounded him focused, silent, untouchable. It was the kind of stillness that made people instinctively avoid him. That, and the reputation that followed him like a shadow.

But then the door creaked open, letting in a gust of warm night air… and you.

You walked in with a paper bag in your arms, the smell of fried chicken and fries trailing behind you. Your eyes scanned the rows until they landed on him. Seong-je's head lifted the moment your shoes crossed the aisle, as if he had sensed you before even seeing you.

Seong-je straightened slightly in his chair, removing his headset completely. His dark eyes locked onto yours penetrating, unreachable, but warmer than anything else in that place.

"You came," he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel under velvet.

"I brought dinner," you replied, smiling as you held the bag out to him.

He then reached out and took it, letting his fingers brush against yours on purpose.

You were about to ask how many games he had won when a voice from two rows ahead interrupted the moment.

"Dammit... now that's a meal I'd like to take home."

You froze.

The laughter that followed was loud, smug, careless. One of the boys tall, slouched back in his chair with his feet on the desk was staring directly at you. His ironic smile widened when your eyes met his.

Seong-je didn’t move immediately. He kept staring at the screen for a moment, his face unreadable.

Then, with a calmness that was almost unsettling, he stood up.

The silence that followed was heavier than the sound of a thousand typing keys. He didn’t rush. He walked slowly toward the boy, hands in his pockets, head slightly tilted.

You called his name once, softly. He ignored it.

"Want to say that again?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual. There was no trace of threat in his tone just a low murmur, dangerously low.

The guy scoffed. "It's a compliment, man. Chill."

That was a mistake.

Seong-je leaned in, close enough to speak directly into the boy's ear. "If you talk about my girl like that again," he said in a threatening tone, "you’ll be picking your teeth off the floor."

The guy paled. "Alright, alright... shit... just joking..."

"Say it again," Seong-je pressed. "See what happens."

The other boys stopped playing, the murmurs fading into nervous silence. Everyone pretended to look at their screens, but their eyes were fixed on the scene. Seong-je stood there for a few more seconds, as if burning the guy's face into his memory. Only then did he turn, his shoulders slowly relaxing, and walked back to his seat. Instead of letting you sit in a nearby chair beside him, he pulled you onto his lap.

His arms loosely wrapped around you, keeping you close as if marking his territory without saying a word. He leaned back in the chair, allowing you to settle more comfortably against him, while the other boys' eyes remained fixed on the two of you. Of course, he was letting everyone know you were his, and only his.