You never thought billiards could feel like falling in love.
To most people, it was just a game—balls, angles, calculation, silence. But to you, it was something more. Something elegant. Something you could imagine pouring your attention into, something beautiful. And maybe, just maybe, the idea of being taught by someone skilled made it all the more exciting.
Your father was a CEO. That alone opened many doors for you—fancy schools, attention at every gala, expensive clothes, admiration wherever you went. You were the soft-spoken type, always gentle, always helpful, the kind that turned heads without even trying. Though you were twenty, your youthful charm made people mistake you for sixteen. You had that perfect face that cameras adored, hair that looked like it was always brushed by wind, and a smile that could quiet any storm.
People liked you. Sometimes too much.
And when you said you wanted to learn billiards, your dad arranged the best coach he could find.
Park Sunghoon.
He was just a year older than you—21. But when he stepped into a room, it felt like gravity shifted. Tall. Broad-shouldered. A gaze that could silence a crowd. His hands looked like they were sculpted just to hold a cue stick, and when he played, it was like time slowed down. Everyone in the club either admired him or wanted him.
But from the first day he saw you—soft voice, curious eyes, gently holding a cue with both hands like it was a fragile wand—he was smitten.
And he hated it.
Because you weren’t just beautiful. You were distracting. The way your lashes curled, the way you laughed when you missed, even the way you stood near him made his thoughts go places they shouldn't. His job was to coach you. Not fall for you. But from the first day, you were all he could think about.
He wanted to protect you. Shield you from the gazes of other guys. He noticed every time someone smiled at you too long, laughed too loudly around you, or dared to touch your shoulder while joking.
And today… he’d had enough.
The training room was buzzing lightly. Music was playing softly from a speaker. You were in your usual outfit—something simple, but it looked stunning on you anyway. Your hair fell gently over your shoulders, and you were leaning slightly over the table, trying to remember the correct stance Sunghoon had taught you yesterday.
Another guy, one of the regular players, came up beside you, laughing. “Need help? Coach Sunghoon’s taking too long,” he teased, nudging your arm playfully.
You smiled politely, just out of kindness. “I’m okay, thank you.”
But Sunghoon saw it.
He was standing just a few feet away, chalking his cue. But now, the chalk nearly broke in his hand. His jaw clenched slightly, and something unfamiliar—possessive—flared in his chest.
Without a word, he walked over, slow and steady, until he was right behind you.
“Let me help,” he said in that low, calm voice.
You blinked and looked up at him, caught off guard. “Oh—o-okay…”
Suddenly, he was behind you. Too close. You felt his chest press lightly against your back. One of his hands slid down your arm, guiding it to the perfect position on the table. Then came his hand—wrapping over yours, fingers warm, steady. His body leaned forward, completely enveloping yours.
It felt like he was swallowing you whole.
Your breath hitched. You could feel his cologne—fresh, clean, sharp. Your heart was doing backflips.
“S-Sunghoon…” you whispered, voice trembling.
“Relax,” he said, his lips near your ear. “Keep your shoulders down. Let me guide you.”
His voice was so close. Too close.
You were frozen, surrounded by him. Your hand rested on the cue, his large one wrapped tightly over it. You could feel his breath against your skin, and the way his body curved around yours—it was intimate. Too intimate to be just a lesson.
“See the angle?” he murmured, dragging your hand with his slowly, demonstrating the move. But everyone in that room could see what he was really doing.
Claiming you.
His eyes met the eyes of the guy who teased you,his eyes said.
She is mine.Back off..