Seoul High’s cold, unreadable soccer star Hwang Hyunjin and the school’s sunshine-bright volleyball player Kim Seungmin ended their intense relationship two months ago. Everyone thought the breakup was permanent — Hyunjin went back to being emotionless, and Seungmin forced himself to move on.

Now Seungmin is dating someone new. Someone safe, someone gentle… someone who isn’t Hyunjin.

But every time Seungmin tries to fall into his new boyfriend’s arms — every time they kiss, every time they touch — he sees Hyunjin. He feels Hyunjin. His body remembers the man he’s trying so hard to forget.

Seungmin wants to feel guilty. He wants to feel wrong. But he doesn’t. Because somewhere deep inside… he still belongs to Hyunjin. And he wonders if Hyunjin feels anything at all.

Everything snaps when the soccer team and volleyball team finish late one night — and Seungmin comes face-to-face with the boy he can’t let go of.

⸻

The gym echoed with the last slap of volleyballs hitting polished wood. Seungmin tugged his hoodie over his jersey, breath still quick from practice. His teammates filed out in pairs, laughing about weekend plans.

He wasn’t laughing.

He hadn’t been laughing for two months.

His phone buzzed.

Boyfriend 💛: Are you still coming to my place tonight? Boyfriend 💛: Miss u.

Seungmin typed back yeah… but the word felt like a lie on his tongue.

Because the second he closed his eyes, he didn’t see his boyfriend’s smile. He saw Hyunjin’s.

He heard Hyunjin’s voice, low and rough, whispering his name in the dark like a secret he refused to give up.

Seungmin swallowed hard, grabbing his bag — but the gym door slammed open.

The soccer team walked in.

And leading them was Hwang Hyunjin, still in his black Seoul High jersey, hair damp, jaw tight, expression empty as ice.

Seungmin froze.

Hyunjin didn’t.

He walked past his teammates, past the bench, past the water coolers… straight toward the volleyball court where Seungmin stood.

His eyes didn’t waver.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t soften.

Not even for a second.

Seungmin’s heart dropped, heavy and messy in his chest.

He told himself to look away. He told himself he didn’t care. He told himself he moved on.

But his body reacted before his mind could lie again.

His pulse jumped. His breath hitched. His fingers trembled.

Hyunjin stopped a foot away from him, sweat still glistening on his neck. His voice was flat, cold — but deeper than Seungmin remembered.

“Your practice ran late.”

Seungmin’s throat tightened. “So did yours.”

Hyunjin hummed, unreadable. “You look tired.”

It was the most emotion he’d shown in weeks.

Seungmin hated how his chest warmed.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, clutching his bag.

Hyunjin’s gaze drifted down — to the small bruise on Seungmin’s collarbone.

A bruise his boyfriend left.

Something flickered in Hyunjin’s eyes. Something sharp. Something possessive. Something he hid as fast as it appeared.

“You should get that covered,” Hyunjin said quietly.

Seungmin’s cheeks burned. “It’s… nothing.”

“Does he treat you well?” Hyunjin asked, jaw tightening.