𝓐 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 | 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘖𝘵_13

~13

"You are late Park Miso. Care to explain?"

***

Seungcheol's eyes narrowed the moment he saw them walk in.

Vernon and Miso—smiling, talking, holding hands.

He hated it.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, not now, not ever, but jealousy curled tight in his chest. He wasn't alone. The others around the table weren't exactly thrilled either. There she was—in Vernon's oversized t-shirt and baggy shorts, looking like she'd just crawled out of his bed. Their closeness, their comfort, it all hinted at something that hadn't happened but looked like it had.

Meanwhile, Vernon seemed unbothered. No—he was radiant, basking in easy laughter, exchanging words like they weren't being watched.

Miso flinched the moment she heard Seungcheol's irritated tone, instantly dropping Vernon's hand as though it burned her. She obeyed his command and quietly made her way to sit beside him at the table. She didn't even notice his eyes flicking up to look at her.

The shirt she wore hung low, sliding down to her thighs. Her messy bun exposed the elegant line of her neck, and worse—faint red hickeys peeked out from the edge of the collar. Seungcheol looked away quickly, throat dry, catching himself staring. His jaw tensed when she tapped his knee softly, trying to get his attention.

"I-is there something on my face?" she asked, whispering timidly.

He simply shook his head, giving a curt "no" before returning to his food. She looked around awkwardly before grabbing small portions of japchae, kimchi, and seaweed soup, her appetite seemingly trying to distract her from the atmosphere.

The moment she tasted the japchae, her eyes widened. A small sound of satisfaction escaped her lips—soft and surprised. It was so well cooked. The sweet-spicy flavors blended so beautifully that she almost teared up. It reminded her of her mother's cooking—warm, rich, and full of love. Her hand dropped to her lap as tears welled in her eyes.

Vernon, who'd been watching her closely from across the table, immediately slid a tissue her way. He couldn't go over, couldn't comfort her openly, but it was the least he could do.

The others noticed her quiet tears too.

And ignored them.

Pretended they hadn't seen.

Her heart sank.

They were making her feel invisible again.

She wiped her eyes, even though the tears had already dried. Her soul felt heavy—too hollow to even cry properly. She tried to finish eating quietly, making no sound, shrinking into herself so she wouldn't provoke another outburst.

But even then, she felt the stares.

Not glances anymore. Smirks.

Sharp. Cruel.

She could feel them bite.

Miso choked slightly as she took a large bite of kimchi, reaching for her water glass in a hurry. Her fingers slipped—sending the glass tumbling. Water spilled across the table, pooling quickly. The laughter came instantly—low snickers, sharp chuckles.

Her cheeks turned bright pink.

But then, a hand reached out.

Mingyu, sitting beside her, calmly offered his own glass. He gently held it to her lips so she could drink without trembling. She sipped, barely whispering a "thank you" so faint it could have vanished in the air.