Smoke- lee heeseung

I

"I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo."
— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

»--•--«

All eyes turned toward her as Yuwon stepped into the classroom. The soft buzz of murmurs filled the air, and she immediately sensed the shift in atmosphere. Her brows furrowed behind her glasses, the familiar sharpness of suspicion setting in. What was all the fuss about? She moved to her seat near the back of the room, by the window—her usual place of refuge. The sun streaming through the glass cast a warm glow on her desk, and for a fleeting moment, she felt thankful for this small corner of the room where she could observe but remain detached.

Her bag hit the floor with a muted thud as she sank into her seat. She felt the weight of all those eyes, their pressure like invisible hands tightening around her chest. Eyes. Every single one of them was on her, and Yuwon could feel the pressure mounting. Her chest tightened, breaths shortening in response. Did something happen?

She didn't have to wonder for long. The puzzle pieces fell into place when she saw him. Heeseung. Her nemesis. He sauntered into the classroom with that insufferable, self-satisfied grin, talking animatedly to Jake, who responded with his usual carefree laugh. But as Heeseung's gaze locked onto Yuwon, the smug smile faltered—just for a split second—before morphing into a smirk that made her stomach churn. His eyes glinted with something dark, something predatory, and Yuwon clenched her fists under the desk. The peaceful, detached facade she worked so hard to maintain threatened to crack.

Heeseung approached her like a predator closing in on its prey, his tall, athletic frame towering over her desk, blocking the light. "Nice to see you again, Angel," he sneered, leaning against her desk with the casual confidence of someone who had already decided they were in control. "Last time we shared a class was back in middle school, wasn't it?"

Yuwon lifted an eyebrow, masking her irritation with an air of indifference. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a half-smile. "Glad to know I made such an impression that you still remember."

Heeseung's grin widened as he pushed off the desk and leaned down closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl. "Of course I remember. It's hard to forget a personality as... infuriating as yours. Pretty sure you made voodoo dolls of me at some point."

Yuwon met his gaze head-on, the mocking tilt of her head a direct challenge. "Please, I don't keep ugly dolls in my room. Maybe you should check your basement, though. Might've planted some black magic stuff there."

A chuckle escaped Heeseung, and the sound grated on Yuwon's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. "As shallow as ever. How could I ever think you've changed?"

Her blood boiled beneath the surface, but Yuwon forced herself to stay calm, a deadly smile tugging at her lips. "I suggest you mind your own business, Heeseung. Don't you have basketball stuff to do?"

Heeseung leaned back, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. "I do. But you already know that, seeing as you always come to our games."

"My love for basketball has nothing to do with a mid-tier player like you," Yuwon shot back, her voice dripping with venom. Her eyes blazed, and for a brief moment, Heeseung's smirk flickered into something darker—satisfaction. He was getting the reaction he wanted from her, and the realization only made her angrier.

"You're so easy to rile up, angel," he whispered, leaning in so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath. Yuwon instinctively scooted back, refusing to let him invade her space. "It's cute."