My dance teacher is cute | Haobin

16 - A Mistake to Forget

POV: Hanbin | SUNDAY EVENING

The one thing I had fought so hard to avoid, just happened. The worst case scenario.

Everything inside me froze. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as I lifted my head from Hao's shoulder. My heart raced, but my body felt like it was weighed down by the heaviest of chains. I didn't dare look behind me. I was too terrified to face the truth.

"Oh my—" Gunwook's voice cut through the silence, barely more than a breath.

I glanced at Hao, who only looked back at me with that familiar mischievous spark in his eyes, raising an eyebrow like this was all some joke. He didn't grasp the gravity of what had just unfolded. Not again.

I let out a shaky sigh, the weight of the moment pressing down on my chest, and pushed myself off Hao. Every movement felt heavy, like my body was betraying me. I finally turned around, my stomach lurching as I met Gunwook's wide, disbelieving eyes. The way he looked at me—shocked, almost disappointed—made the dread coil tighter in my gut.

"We need to talk. Let's head back," I forced the words out, my voice strained, each syllable loaded with anxiety. Stepping out of the car felt like stepping into an abyss, the ground beneath me unsteady. Gunwook didn't say much, just nodded, tossing Hao's sweater back into the car. We walked in silence for a bit before he finally stopped.

"I kind of suspected it," Gunwook began, his tone soft, almost hesitant. "...And the others did too."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My stomach twisted violently. The others? How long had they known? What were they thinking about me? About Hao? The image I had tried so hard to maintain—shattered. This wasn't just a mistake.

It was the worst thing they could've caught me doing.

"Please... don't tell the others, Gunwook," I whispered, my voice barely holding together, fear lacing every word.

"Hanbin, this is against the rules." His voice was steady, but I could hear the concern. He wasn't wrong, and I knew it too well. I nodded, looking down, unable to meet his gaze any longer. Shame flooded through me.

The rules.

I had broken them once before, and the consequences... I'd nearly destroyed everything. And now, I was dealing with the same problem, being on the edge of ruining not just my future, but Hao's too.

The memory of last time haunted me—how one slip, one moment of weakness, had cost so much. The endless guilt that followed, knowing I had shattered someone else's dream alongside my own. Watching them crumble, spiraling into a darkness I couldn't pull them out of. That weight had never really left me. Even now, it was still there, suffocating, reminding me of the damage I had caused.

I was terrified that this time it would be worse. That history would repeat itself, and I'd ruin everything again.

But more than anything, I was scared of losing Hao. I didn't know when I'd started to feel this protective of him, but now, the thought of anything hurting him—of me hurting him—was unbearable. I had to protect him. No matter the cost.

"I'll keep this to myself," Gunwook finally said, his voice softer now. "Just make sure it's not too obvious."

The relief was overwhelming, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Thank you," I managed, my voice tight with emotion.

Gunwook slung his arm over my shoulder, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "So, you like bad boys now, huh?" he teased, a grin tugging at his lips.

"That's not—" I started, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, but he laughed, cutting me off.