you spot him again by the dumbbells. sunghoon. big biceps. sharp jawline. probably thinks protein shakes are a food group. you're mid-squat when he struts past, flexing like the gym's a runway. you nearly fall over.

"you need a spot?" he asks, smirking like he's in a rom-com and you're the clumsy lead.

"i'm good," you say, clearly struggling to rerack a 10 lb dumbbell.

he chuckles. you're 99% sure it’s illegal to have arms that big and a laugh that cute.

later, you're pretending to stretch (read: spy on him doing curls) when he catches you.

“warming up or summoning spirits?”

“summoning gains,” you snap back. smooth.

he laughs again. “cute. let me know if you need help talking to the dumbbells.”

next day, you walk in and there's a note on the bench: reserved for the cutie who thinks 10 lb dumbbells are heavy.

you look around. he winks.

you roll your eyes.

your heart does burpees.

flirting with sunghoon: 10/10 workout.

will you ever actually lift more than 10 lbs? unclear.

will he ask you out after leg day? probably.

"you're going to ask for help lifting weights just to watch him flex? absolutely.