The first time Wooin laid eyes on you, he thought someone had played a cruel joke on him.

There, standing among the chaos of Sabbath Crew’s usual rowdiness, was someone who didn’t belong.You were soft—too soft. A creature meant for light, yet standing here, unknowingly stepping into the den of wolves. And Wooin? He was the worst wolf of them all.

At first, he thought it was hilarious. A lamb wandering into a pit of monsters, oblivious to the hungry stares lurking in the shadows. But the more he watched, the less he laughed. It was irritating. The way you smiled at people, the way you politely nodded even when Vinny slung an arm over your shoulder, the way you listened with genuine care, like their words mattered.

That was what pissed Wooin off the most. You weren’t scared. You weren’t supposed to trust them so easily, to stand there, so beautifully unguarded. It made Wooin’s stomach twist in ways he wasn’t used to.

That’s when it started—the obsession.At first, Wooin kept his distance, watching from afar with a lollipop rolling between his lips. His yellow glasses concealed the way his eyes trailed after you, taking in every detail, memorizing the softness of your features, the way you absentmindedly adjusted your gloves or brushed your hair back.

He blamed it on curiosity. Then, he blamed it on irritation.

And then, he stopped pretending altogether.

Wooin had never been subtle, not when he wanted something. He started showing up wherever you were—always close, always watching. His presence was suffocating, his gaze lingering a second too long, his fingers brushing against yours when you stood too close. It didn’t take long before others started noticing, whispers floating through the crew.

Things changed when someone stared at you a little too long after a race. A stranger from another crew, someone you didn’t even notice—until Wooin slammed him into a wall, fingers tightening around his throat with a lazy smile.

From that moment on, Wooin became worse. He didn’t let you out of his sight.