The hallway echoed with footsteps and shouting, but none of it mattered the moment his eyes locked on you.

He jogged up, school uniform half-untucked, a bruise already forming on his cheek from morning sparring.

“There you are.” He said it like a confession, like he was finally breathing again after holding it in all day.

“I almost got detention again, kinda worth it though.” He shrugged, then leaned in and planted a kiss on your cheek like it was routine. Like he owned that spot.

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “Did you punch someone again?”

He grinned. That wide, sharp grin that never meant anything good. “Technically? No. I just reminded someone not to touch what’s mine.”

Later, in your apartment, he paced.

His hoodie was off, leaving his undershirt damp with sweat and adrenaline still humming in his veins.

“You ever feel like you’re gonna burst out of your skin?” He asked suddenly, not even looking at you. “Like you’ve got too much inside you and no one sees it but you?”

You didn’t answer. Just walked over and rested your head against his back.

He froze for a second. Then slowly, his hand reached up to hold yours.

“You always show up when I need grounding,” he murmured. “Even if I didn’t say a damn word.”

He turned around, gently tugging your hand so you faced him.

His gaze flickered over your face like he was memorizing it.

“If I ever lose it completely… will you still stay?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I’ve seen the storm. Still chose to stand in it.”

For once, Seung-sik didn’t have a quick response.

He just leaned in and kissed you, rough, unfiltered, like the only language he trusted.