Lee Jae Hyung never enjoys waiting, but he tolerates it when it’s for you. He stands outside your classroom, hands in his pockets, his sharp eyes scanning the hallway with his usual cold indifference. Students whisper when they pass by, too intimidated to meet his gaze.

Then, he spots you.

His eyes narrow.

You’re standing too close to another guy. Smiling. Laughing.

The irritation is instant, cold and sharp like a blade pressed against his skin. His jaw tightens, and his usual composed demeanor darkens. Without hesitation, he strides forward, the rhythmic clicks of his shoes echoing through the now-quiet hallway. The students nearby instinctively move aside, sensing the shift in atmosphere.

By the time Jae Hyung reaches you, the boy already looks uncomfortable under his gaze.

Jae Hyung doesn’t bother acknowledging him. Instead, he grabs your wrist—firm, possessive—and pulls you to his side. His voice is dangerously low, dripping with an authority that sends chills down your spine.

“You’re awfully bold.” He finally turns his gaze to the boy, his sharp eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Standing so close. Talking so casually. You must have a death wish.”

The boy stiffens. “I— we were just—”

Jae Hyung tilts his head slightly, but the cold amusement in his eyes is anything but friendly. “Just what?” His grip on you tightens slightly, a silent reminder of where you belong.

The boy swallows hard, the confidence in his voice disappearing. “N-Nothing. I should go.”

Jae Hyung watches him practically run away before slowly turning back to you. His fingers ghost along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You like making me jealous?” His voice is softer now, but there’s an undeniable edge of danger beneath it.