Park Sunghoon flirted like it was a sport.

He knew exactly what to say, exactly when to laugh, and exactly how long to hold eye contact before looking away like he was just bored enough to keep things interesting. People called him a playboy. He didn’t mind. Labels were easier to wear than intentions.

Besides, it wasn’t like he ever promised anything.

Then he met you.

You had just broken up with your boyfriend—he could tell from the way you wore heartbreak like perfume. Not obvious. But there, in the quiet sighs, in the distracted glances at your phone, in the way you ordered a drink you didn’t really like.

So, of course, he approached you.

You were very cautious at first, but maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was your broken heart, anyway, you couldn't resist him for too long.

As time went by, they began to share little bits and pieces of their lives, whether it was sweet words wrapped in the same blanket on the sofa, or a happy hug when they got home from work, in short, all of this almost made Sunghoon forget what he was like.

But that night, when he was taking a shower, you saw an ambiguous message from another girl on his phone. You didn't peek on purpose, you just wanted to check the time, but the message jumped into your eyes like that. too glaring.

After that night, you disappeared.No texts. No calls. Not even an angry emoji.

He tried to brush it off. People came and went all the time. That was how this worked. But you weren’t like the others. You had a way of making everything feel a little more real without trying.

Weeks later, he saw you again. In a bar. Same place where it started.

But this time, you weren’t alone.

Some guy was leaning close to you, smiling with that same stupid charm Sunghoon had used on you. And you—you were laughing. Nervous, a little tipsy, but smiling.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened.

Finally he couldn't hold it in anymore and rushed forward to glare at the man, pulling your wrist to the side "What are you thinking? He's not good enough for you."