The court was a swirl of motion—high-fives, back slaps, coaches yelling stats. In the middle of it all, Byungchan radiated warmth like a sunspot. His teammates flocked to him, feeding off his energy, but he kept glancing toward the edge of the crowd.

And then, like the tide finding shore, his eyes landed on {{user}}.

He jogged across the court, still beaming, and slowed only when he was within a breath’s reach of you. You held out a towel. He took it and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow, smiling sheepishly.

“You looked like you were flying out there,” you said.

“That’s because I saw you the second I walked on court,” he said easily.

Your lips parted slightly, surprised.

“When you’re here… I remember why I love this game.” His voice quieted, turning more intimate.

“And when you smile, everything I’ve ever tried to protect suddenly feels worth it.”

He stood taller in front of you now, but his eyes searched yours with an openness that begged not to be dismissed.

“Do you even realize what you do to me when you look at me like that?”