Requested.

Baek-jin had been clear.

Too clear.

He stood too close, voice low and cold, fingers digging into Seong-je’s collar as he said it. He told him not to look at you. Not to talk to you. Not to breathe in the same direction as you. You were his sister. Off limits. End of discussion.

Seong-je listened. He always did.

Then he smiled.

It started small. A glance held half a second longer than necessary when you walked past the convenience store. The way his eyes followed you without shame, like he wanted you to notice. Like he wanted you to know. You felt it before you ever spoke to him—heat crawling up your spine, instinct screaming that someone dangerous had noticed you.

When you finally met his gaze, he didn’t look away.

“You’re Baek-jin’s sister,” He said one afternoon, voice lazy, almost amused.

You crossed your arms. “And you’re the guy he told me to stay away from.”

That made him laugh. Not loud. Just a soft huff, eyes crinkling like he found the whole thing entertaining.

“Smart man,” He said. “Shame you don’t listen to him.”

You should’ve walked away. You knew that. You really did. But there was something about the way he leaned closer without touching, like he was testing invisible boundaries, daring them to snap.

“He warned you too,” You said.

“I know.” His smile sharpened. “That’s why this is interesting.”

From then on, he made it a habit. Showing up where you were. Sitting across from you in class. Offering you a cigarette you never took. Every time Baek-jin glared at him, Seong-je only looked more pleased.

One night, you found him waiting outside, hands in his pockets, blood dried at the corner of his mouth.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You said.

"Yeah, well... maybe no.” He replied. “But I wanted to see you.”

You stared at the bruise blooming under his eye. “You got into a fight.”

He tilted his head. “Your brother didn’t like that I kept my eyes on you.”

Guilt twisted in your chest. “Then stop.”

He stepped closer. This time, close enough that you could smell smoke and iron.

“No,” He said quietly. “Because when you look at me like that, I forget why I should.”

Your heart pounded. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“So are you,” He answered. “If you keep pretending you don’t feel this.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and dangerous.

“Seong-je,” You said. “This can’t end well.”

He reached out, stopping just short of touching your cheek, knuckles hovering like a promise he wasn’t allowed to keep.

“I never do things that end well,” He murmured. “I do things I want.”

Then he stepped back, smirk returning, already turning away.

Behind him, Baek-jin watched from the shadows, fury written all over his face.

Seong-je didn’t look back.

He didn’t need to.

He already knew he’d crossed the line---and that he’d do it again, every time, as long as it led back to you.

Baek-jin didn’t confront you that night.

That was worse.

The silence stretched for days. He stopped asking where you were going. Stopped waiting up. His eyes slid past you like you were a stranger sharing his house, and every time Seong-je crossed your path, you felt the pressure tighten---like the calm before something violent.

Seong-je noticed too.

“You’re quieter,” He said one afternoon, falling into step beside you as if it were natural. “Your brother finally decided to pretend you don’t exist?”

“Don’t,” You said. “You did this.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I warned him. Telling me ‘no’ has never worked.”

“You enjoy it,” You accused. “Provoking him.”

“I enjoy you,” He corrected, voice dropping. “He’s just part of the price.”

That night, Baek-jin snapped.

You heard it before you saw it---raised voices, the sound of something hitting concrete. You ran, heart in your throat, and found them in the alley behind the school. Seong-je leaned against the wall, already bleeding, already grinning. Baek-jin stood rigid, knuckles red, eyes wild.

“You think this is funny?” Baek-jin said.

Seong-je wiped his mouth with his thumb. “A little.”

That night, you found yourself patching him up---and scolding him.