As if awakening from a dream, Aerin shook her head and pulled away from Seungcheol. Her hands fell to her sides, the lingering warmth of his touch replaced by the cold reality of what had just happened. What did I just do?
She took a step back, her heart pounding, her thoughts racing. That kiss—it had felt too good, too right, and that was the problem. This couldn't happen. It couldn't become anything.
"I—I don't know what came over me," she stammered, her voice uncertain.
Seungcheol moved before she could retreat further, his hands finding her waist, anchoring her in place. The resolve in his dark eyes made her breath hitch. Even in the dim room, his determination was unmistakable, leaving her torn between logic and the emotions threatening to overtake her.
"Aerin," he said, his tone softening as he looked at her. "Please—don't think I'm trying to pressure you. I would never do that. Just... open your eyes. Stop running."
The raw plea in his voice made something in her chest tighten. For a moment, she stared at him, every instinct screaming to pull away, to protect herself. But another part of her—one she'd ignored for too long—longed to take the risk.
She sighed, closing her eyes briefly before meeting his gaze. "You have to promise me one thing."
"Anything," he said, his voice steady.
"Let's take this slow, okay? I... I can't rush into something. My past—it's complicated." Her voice faltered, but she pressed on. "I need time."
Seungcheol took her hands gently, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "I wouldn't have it any other way. We'll just take things one step at a time—whatever feels right for you."
For the first time that night, Aerin felt her shoulders relax, her heart finding a steady rhythm. His words, so genuine and unhurried, eased the doubt clouding her mind.
They left the building together, their steps unhurried, the night air cool against their skin. It was late—well past the time when the building would have been bustling with staff. At 2 a.m., only a few security guards lingered, their discretion guaranteed by ironclad contracts.
Sitting in Seungcheol's car, Aerin turned to him, a question that had been nagging at her slipping out. "So... you were bullshitting about Jeonghan. But what about Hyunjae? Do you think there's anything there?"
Seungcheol kept his eyes on the road for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Do you want my honest opinion?"
"Always." Her tone was firm, leaving no room for ambiguity.
He exhaled, glancing at her briefly before speaking. "It's hard to say for sure. That CCTV footage was... strange, yeah. But you've known her forever, right? If there was something more, wouldn't you have noticed it by now?"
The car came to a smooth stop in front of her dorm. The streetlights cast soft pools of light, illuminating her contemplative expression.
"In the end, Rin, it's up to you. If you want to confront her, then do it. If you don't, that's fine too. Your feelings and suspicions are valid no matter what you decide. Just... don't let anyone else make this decision for you."
A small smile tugged at Aerin's lips. "I swear, everything you say deserves to be handwritten and framed in a museum."
He chuckled softly, but his expression quickly turned serious. He reached out, resting a finger gently against her chest. "I mean it. Do what feels right, Aerin. No one else gets to decide that for you."
The sincerity in his voice left her momentarily speechless. She nodded, and with one last smile, she stepped out of the car, disappearing into the dimly lit dormitory.
Inside the dorm, the atmosphere was tense. Aki sat by the clock, checking the time almost obsessively, her worry written all over her face. Xia curled up by the window, a book in her hands, though her eyes wandered to the glass every few seconds.
Yuna, however, was nowhere to be seen. She had locked herself in her room, her muffled sobs the only indication of where she was. Her tears came in heavy, uncontrollable waves, the weight of her actions suffocating her.
Aerin's absence hit Yuna the hardest. Aerin was the first person she had felt close to, the one she trusted most. Feeding her lies, helping Hyunjae manipulate her—it was too much to bear. The guilt had been eating away at her, piece by piece, leaving her a shadow of the confident idol she once was.
Hyunjae, however, was unshaken. She was calculating, ruthless, and unrelenting. The comeback was over, the spotlight temporarily dimmed—a perfect time for schemes to unfold in the shadows.
She would have her spot, no matter the cost.
