My dance teacher is cute | Haobin

9 - My favourite Drug

POV: Hanbin | FRIDAY EVENING

"The-the door, Hao," I stammered, my eyes locked on the open door, but before I could move, he pressed me against it—hard. His body was against mine, too close. Unbearably close. My heart raced, ears pounding, the heat rising to my face.

Without warning, his cold fingers slipped beneath my shirt, grazing my skin. The contrast of his icy touch made me gasp, a sharp inhale escaping my lips.

Why did something so wrong, something so inappropriate, feel so good?

"Hao, let go," I managed to say, though my voice wavered. Instead of easing up, his grip on my waist tightened, his fingers digging into my skin.

"I'm more important than the others, right?" His voice was a low rasp, barely recognizable, the tone sending a ripple through me. His nails dragged lightly against my stomach, teasing, making me flinch. Each touch sent electric shivers down my spine, making it impossible to think straight.

My skin was on fire under his fingertips.

Then, without warning, I felt the warmth of his breath against my neck—his lips so close, grazing the sensitive skin there. His thick, soft lips barely brushed against me, but it was enough to leave me trembling. I could feel every heavy, heated breath he exhaled, my body betraying me as I leaned into it.

"Stop it, Hao," I breathed out, the words barely coherent, my voice more desperate than commanding.

He didn't stop. His lips continued their slow, deliberate trail leaving kisses along my neck, sending chills through me with every touch.

"Say it," he hissed, his voice low and commanding. "Say I'm your favorite."

His hand hovered just above my waistband, fingers trailing lower, threatening to cross a line that made my breath come in short, rapid gasps.

My eyes widened in panic. "Y-you're my favorite," I stammered, my voice breaking under the tension.

And just like that, he backed off, his touch disappearing all at once, leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. I turned around slowly, my breath ragged, my body still vibrating with the aftershock of what had just happened. Our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a beat. His gaze was dark, unreadable, filled with something I couldn't name. Something we shouldn't be doing.

What had just happened?

Without a word, Hao turned and walked over to my bed, collapsing onto it like nothing had happened. He sprawled out, looking far too comfortable, while I stood by the door, still trying to catch my breath.

"Why are you here?" I finally asked, the tension in the room suffocating. His eyes slid shut, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

"Missed your bed," he muttered, completely unfazed.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself. He was always like this—invading my space without asking, like it meant nothing. I stayed by the door, keeping my distance, fighting the urge to react.

"Aren't you busy?" His voice was nonchalant, almost bored. "Go do your work," he added, lying back as if our heated exchange was already forgotten.

My heart was still hammering in my chest as I made my way to my desk, sitting down. But I couldn't focus. My mind was a tangled mess of confusion and frustration.
I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to be doing anymore.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the bed. Before I could react, Hao was already reaching for it.

"Hao—" I started, but he ignored me, answering the call without hesitation. "Hanbin is busy," He hung up, tossing the phone aside as if it wasn't a big deal. He met my glare with innocent, wide eyes, as if he hadn't just crossed a line.