The ice rink was eerily silent.

Sunghoon’s skates carved through the frozen surface with eerie precision, each motion fluid yet unnervingly sharp. His movements weren’t just skilled—they were unnatural, too smooth, too effortless.

You stood by the barrier, wrapped in his hoodie, the fabric heavy with his scent—cold, crisp, something sharp lingering underneath.

Beside you, Joonho exhaled sharply. “You always wait for him.”

Your fingers curled against the railing.

Then—Sunghoon stopped.

Not naturally. Just—stopped.

‎The shift was unnatural, almost inhuman. No stumble, no loss of balance—just an abrupt stillness, as if the world had paused for him. ‎ ‎His head tilted, dark eyes locking onto yours across the ice.

Your pulse stuttered.

Then, slowly, he beckoned.

No words. Just the slow, deliberate curl of his fingers.

Joonho tensed beside you. “You don’t have to go.”

But your feet were already moving.

_

The hallway was dim, the flickering overhead lights casting long shadows. Your footsteps echoed against the tiles as you reached the locker room. The door creaked slightly as you stepped inside, the air thick with the crisp bite of cold and something darker—something watching.

And there he was.

Sitting on the bench, still in his skating gear, hair damp, his long frame stretched out effortlessly. In his hand, the blade of his skate gleamed under the weak light as he turned it between his fingers—slow, deliberate.

"You came quickly."

His voice was calm, too calm.

"You wanted me to."

A soft chuckle. "I guess I did."

"You know," he mused, voice smooth, steady, "you used to follow me around everywhere when we were kids."

Your breath caught.

A memory flickered—small hands reaching for his, chasing after him with wobbly steps, laughter as he slowed down just enough for you to catch up.

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, almost amused. "I guess some things never change."

His breath ghosted over your ear.

" You’ve never been good at staying away from me. "