the relationship between you and seongje was so odd, not even your friends liked hearing about it anymore. you’d made out, hooked up, a couple times. on separate occasions. when he’d been a bit too high at a party, wanted to shut you up during an argument.. nothing permanent. just a quick high, then neither of you reaches out for months. you’re both too stubborn.

and now? you were back to normal. your fist flying at light speed toward his face. and again, he dodged, landing a quick one on your ribs, before kicking your feet out from under you, so your back hit the floor with a loud thud.

seongje placed his boot atop your stomach, preventing you from moving. was he seriously slugging you right now? with a smirk, he crouched down, leaning over you as if he was inspecting you. his gaze was almost impossible to read.

he reached out — knuckles wet with blood, before connecting the back of his hand to your face and smearing a bit of his blood over your cheek. almost like he was marking you. his hand glided easily against your face, as he let out something inbetween a scoff and a laugh.

“you look.. so wrecked.” he commented softly, suddenly all the anger and violence from before gone. he got off on this. he loved it. seeing people vulnerable and helpless beneath him? him in control? god, it did something to him.

as if mocking you, he leant in and pressed what felt like a ghost kiss to your lips, his mouth just barely brushing against yours before he pulled back. “how are you feeling?” he asked mockingly with a shit eating, cocky grin. he knew he’d won this time.