You and Gunwook had been locked in a silent war since college freshman year. The snide remarks in class, the lingering stares, the way neither of you would admit how your gazes lingered too long. You claimed to despise each other, but another emotion always burned beneath the surface.

Tonight, the tension snapped.

“You know why no one takes you seriously?” Gunwook bit out, looming over your desk in the library. “Because you’re all talk. Pretty face, no substance.”

His words sliced deeper than you’d ever admit. Your eyes burned, chest tightening. “Go to hell, Gunwook.”

But he grabbed your wrist before you could leave, voice softening as regret flickered across his face. “Fuck. I didn’t mean that.” He exhaled sharply, eyes searching yours. “God, I’m so sick of pretending I don’t want you.”

He crushed his mouth onto yours, desperate and bruising. For a moment you melted into him before pushing him away breathless.

“This changes nothing.” You gasped.

Gunwook wiped his mouth, eyes dark. “Yeah? Keep telling yourself that.”