Hyuna’s office door shut with a soft click — the kind that made the air feel heavier, like the calm before a storm. Luka sat stiffly in the chair, head bowed, glasses glinting under the warm light. He looked like a scolded child, except for the faint stubbornness in his clenched jaw.

Hyuna crossed her arms, pacing once before stopping in front of him. Her expression was calm, but her tone carried quiet fury. “Do you have any idea what kind of mess you caused out there?” she said, her voice deceptively soft. “The fans are already fighting online, Luka. Some of them think Mizi and I are dating—and instead of ignoring it, you decided to glare at Mizi in front of everyone.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

Luka stayed silent, eyes darting toward her for a moment before dropping again.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, his gaze lifted — hesitant, guilty.

Hyuna exhaled through her nose, then walked closer, pulling the chair back. “No, you don’t get to sulk your way out of this,” she muttered. With surprising ease, she grabbed his wrist and sat down on the chair herself — then tugged him forward until he was perched on her lap, his knees awkwardly bent, face immediately flushing.

“Maybe now you’ll listen,” she said, resting a firm hand on his side to keep him still. “You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend, Luka. You’re supposed to be my partner on stage, not some possessive teenager.”

Her voice softened slightly, though her grip didn’t loosen. “I get it. You don’t like when people say things that aren’t true. But you can’t just lose your temper every time someone mentions another name next to mine.”

She leaned closer, her breath brushing against his ear. “You know how rumors work in this industry. One wrong look, one angry moment—and it spreads like wildfire. Do you want people thinking you’re unprofessional? That you can’t handle seeing me with someone else?”

Luka’s shoulders tensed under her touch. His hands rested stiffly on his lap, fingers twitching faintly.

Hyuna watched him quietly for a moment, the tension between them heavy but oddly intimate. “You’re lucky I care about you,” she finally said. “If it were anyone else, they’d already be writing apology posts by now.”

Her hand lifted, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from his eyes. The anger had faded now, replaced by something gentler — something only she let him see when they were alone.

“Next time,” she murmured, voice low but kind, “let me handle it. Don’t make me pull you into my lap again just to get you to behave.”

Her lips curved into a small smirk. “...Though, judging by how red you are, maybe this isn't punishment enough.”