Well, it certainly wasn’t the most flattering situation for Jun-ho to walk in on—not after the explosive fight you’d just had. The air between you two still simmered with unresolved tension, bitter words echoing in your mind like a broken record. You hadn’t meant to be seen like this, but the truth was, you just needed an escape. For once, you wanted to breathe without the weight of self-doubt crushing your chest. To exist without overthinking every glance, every word, every flaw. So you did what you could—you put on your best attempt at a carefree smile, surrounded yourself with noise and movement, and tried, if only briefly, to live without constantly measuring your worth.

You didn’t know why he was there, standing several meters away with that same disheveled look he always wore like armor—eyes sharp, hair tousled like he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times since the argument. Was he there to apologize? To pick up where the fight left off? Or maybe—just maybe—it was that strange, unexplainable pull he always spoke of. That force that yanked him back to you no matter how hard he tried to stay away. Knowing Jun-ho, it was probably all of those reasons and none of them at the same time. He lived in contradictions, just like your relationship.

The only thing certain now was how the rhythm of your night fractured the moment he spotted you—your laughter dying mid-breath, your smile fading under the weight of his gaze. A gaze that burned with a volatile mix of hurt, jealousy, and disbelief. You didn’t even have to look directly at him to feel the shift, like a cold wind crawling down your spine.

Then came his voice—sharp, sarcastic, laced with bitterness that cut deeper than he probably intended.

“So this is how it is now? You run to the next guy the moment we argue?”