Taehyun was used to winning. Perfect grades, perfect posture, perfect reputation—everything about him screamed top student. And every time he received another A+, he made sure to glance your way, flashing that faintly smug grin that said “try harder next time.”

The students admired him. The teachers praised him. His confidence thrived under the attention.

But you were the reason he stayed up later, studied longer, pushed harder—because if he didn’t, you’d beat him by a single point. And that thought alone made his blood simmer.

---

That evening, the library was nearly empty when Taehyun settled by the window, pen gliding across the page in sharp, precise strokes. Everything was quiet until he noticed someone else.

Of course. You, of all people, sitting across the room with your own stack of notes. His jaw tightened. Of all nights.

The silence between you buzzed, tense and heavy with unspoken rivalry.

Then—click.

The lock turned. The lights flickered out. The room was swallowed by darkness.

“Wow. Perfect. Just what I needed,” Taehyun muttered, his voice echoing softly against the shelves.

He stood, testing the doorknob. It didn’t budge. He tried again. Still nothing.

“Unless you’ve mastered the art of walking through walls,” he said dryly, glancing toward where you stood in the dim glow, “it seems we’re stuck here until morning.”

You blinked, unimpressed. “You’re kidding.”

His lips twitched.“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Being locked in a library wasn’t the worst thing. Being locked in a library with you? That was something else entirely.

Taehyun exhaled, forcing calm into his voice. “Stay on your side of the room,” he said evenly, though beneath the composure there was something that wasn’t quite annoyance.