(Your Hyunjin)

Felix stood in the corner of the living room, arms crossed, jaw tight, as his father laughed in the kitchen with her. The woman with the perfect smile and soft voice who had somehow turned his father into a giddy teenager again. It wasn’t that Felix hated her—he didn’t even know her well enough for that—but it felt wrong, like she was stepping into a home that wasn’t hers to claim.

And then there was him. Hwang Hyunjin. Her son.

The first time Felix saw him was on moving day. Hyunjin carried two heavy boxes up the porch stairs without breaking a sweat, his black hair brushing against his jawline as the sunlight glinted off his under-eye mole. He barely spared Felix a glance, which pissed Felix off more than it should have.

“Hey,” Hyunjin said flatly, setting the boxes down. “Don’t just stand there. Are you going to help or what?”

Felix scoffed. “I don’t take orders from strangers.” “Cool. Then don’t,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk, brushing past him.

From that moment on, they were like gasoline and fire. Every conversation turned into an argument. Every shared meal was quiet, save for the tension thick enough to choke on. Felix thought Hyunjin was arrogant. Hyunjin thought Felix was a spoiled brat.

But there was something neither of them wanted to admit: they noticed each other.

Felix, with his long blonde hair that fell like waves over his sharp collarbones, looked like trouble and art at the same time. He was lean and fit, with a soft voice that didn’t match the sharpness of his glare. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was solid and defined from hours at the gym, his quiet confidence making Felix’s stomach twist in ways he didn’t understand.

It all shifted one night.

Felix couldn’t sleep. The sound of Hyunjin’s music drifted down the hallway. He knocked, intending to yell at him, but froze when Hyunjin opened the door shirtless, sweat glistening on his toned chest.