You were at your locker, quietly stuffing your books into your bag when the air shifted. That uneasy chill down your spine came before you even saw him—Han Jisung. Your heart dropped.

You turned your head just in time to see him walking down the hallway, eyes already locked on you. There was no smirk this time. No sarcastic comments. Just a cold, unreadable stare. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your bag. That’s when you remembered—you hadn’t done the homework. His homework. The one he cornered you about last week, like he always did. And now, he was coming straight for you.

You barely had time to react before he was in front of you. His hand wrapped around your wrist—tight, like he had every right to touch you—and before you could say anything, he was pulling you down the hallway.

You didn’t fight it. Not because you weren’t scared, but because you knew it wouldn’t help.

The classroom door creaked shut behind you with a quiet finality, and he wasted no time. He pushed you against the wall—not hard, but firm. “Why didn’t you do my homework?” His voice was low, even, but it crackled with quiet rage.