The days that followed were oddly quiet.
With our project finished, there was no longer a convenient excuse to spend time with Hyunjin. And now that he had officially signed with Seiren, most of his hours were swallowed up by training, meetings, and adjustment sessions. It made sense—he fit in easily, having already been part of their unofficial squad. Minho, naturally, slid into the scene like it was made for him. That's just who Minho was.
And then there was Seojun.
Tension between him and Hyunjin escalated fast—too fast. They couldn't be in the same room without throwing daggers with their eyes. Whatever grudge they held, it was getting heavier by the day. Their teamwork suffered. Practices turned into battlefields. And I knew exactly why.
It was about me.
One quiet afternoon, I was tucked away in the library, flipping through notes when my phone buzzed. Then buzzed again. Then kept buzzing.
I frowned at the endless stream of messages from Jessie:
"Get down here NOW."
"You need to see this."
"I'm serious, Wendy. Come to the front stairs."
With a frustrated sigh, I stuffed my books into my bag and made my way down.
Jessie was waiting with a worried look, phone in hand.
"What's so urgent that you had to drag me out of study mode?" I asked, brushing my hair back.
Wordlessly, she shoved the screen in my face.
I glanced at her screen. Someone was live-streaming Hyunjin and Seojun mid-argument. The air between them looked combustible, like any second now fists would fly.
"Seriously?" I gasped. "They're doing this again?"
Without a second thought, I broke into a sprint.
By the time I got to the department, a crowd had already gathered, circling them like they were the main event. The tension in the air was electric. One wrong word and fists were going to fly.
"Enough!" I snapped, pushing between them. My heart was pounding.
"What the hell is going on?" I demanded. "Seojun? Why are you here?"
His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and unreadable. "I came to talk to you. But he—" he jerked his chin at Hyunjin— "thinks I need permission."
Hyunjin stepped forward again, jaw clenched. Without a word, he reached for my hand and pulled me toward him, his grip firm and unyielding.
"We're leaving."
I barely had time to register his words before he was guiding me away from the crowd. His strides were long, furious.
At the stairs, he paused, glancing at my ankle. I wasn't in a cast anymore, but the pain still lingered. Without a word, he bent down and swept me into his arms.
"Hyunjin—!" I gasped, startled.
He ignored me.
Carried me like I weighed nothing into an empty lecture hall and shut the door behind us. Then he set me down gently on a desk—but the anger in his eyes was anything but gentle.
"What the hell was that?" I snapped, brushing my hair back. "Why do you keep picking fights with Seojun?"
He didn't answer right away. Just stared at the floor like it had betrayed him.
"I just..." His voice was low. "I hate the way he looks at you."
I blinked. "What?"
Hyunjin finally looked up. "And I hate that you don't notice."
