DISGRACE ✴ kim rian

12 ── ʳᵉᵈ

ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ

Kim Rian wasn’t one to back off. If Mi-hee thought she could toy with him and walk away unscathed, she was sorely mistaken. He wasn’t the type to let anyone—least of all her—get the upper hand.

Just as Mi-hee turned, likely to retreat to her cozy bed and pretend nothing had happened, Rian moved. In a single, fluid motion, he closed the space between them and pinned her against the wall.

“Rian—” she began, but her words were swallowed by the intensity of his actions.

His fingers traced her waist deliberately, sending a shiver up her spine. With a sharp tug, he pulled her up onto her toes, his strength undeniable as he kept her in place. Mi-hee gasped, caught entirely off guard, her cool composure slipping.

Her breath hitched as he leaned in close, his presence overwhelming. One of his hands remained firm on her waist, while the other tangled into the loose strands of her messy bun, gripping just enough to tilt her head back.

“Is this better, my love?” he whispered, his voice dark and teasing, lips hovering dangerously close to her neck.

Before she could retort, his mouth brushed against her skin. The touch was soft but electrifying, a contrast to the tension in the room. His lips pressed a gentle kiss just below her jaw, and an involuntary, low sound escaped her—half a gasp, half a moan.

Rian chuckled softly, his breath warm against her neck, his hand on her waist tightening just slightly. “Should I act like this?” he murmured, the amusement in his voice barely masking something deeper.

The spell broke as the words hit her. Kim Rian. A bully.

Reality snapped back into place, and Mi-hee shoved him harshly. He stumbled back, the force sending him sprawling onto her bed. A deep, unbothered laugh erupted from him, his cocky smirk only growing.

Mi-hee turned away quickly, desperate to regain her composure, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. She prayed her face wasn’t as red as it felt, her breathing uneven as she silently cursed herself for the moment of weakness.

“Don’t you dare—” she began, her voice sharper than she intended.

But before she could finish, a firm hand grabbed her wrist. She barely had time to react before Rian pulled her forward, catching her completely off balance.

She fell onto the bed, landing squarely on top of him.

Rian’s arms wrapped around her instinctively, securing her in place before she could pull away. She froze, the proximity between them leaving her flustered in a way she despised.

“Rian,” she said through gritted teeth, glaring at him.

But he was entirely unfazed. His grin widened as he reached for the claw clip holding her messy bun. With a deliberate tug, the clip came loose, and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders.

“Better,” he muttered, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, brushing against her cheek, his expression softening just slightly.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to unravel her carefully guarded secrets.

“And,” he added, his tone lower now, “I don’t want you to fuck this up. So stop acting like you hate me.”

The audacity of his words snapped her out of her daze, and she pushed against his chest. He didn’t resist this time, letting her shove him just enough to sit herself upright.

Without another word, Rian stood, brushing off his shirt as if nothing had happened. His usual smirk returned, but there was something unreadable in his eyes as he looked down at her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said casually, his tone light despite the charged atmosphere lingering between them.

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving Mi-hee sitting on the edge of her bed, her thoughts a whirlwind.

Her fists clenched at her sides, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She hated how easily he got under her skin, hated the fact that for a moment, she hadn’t hated it at all.

But most of all, she hated how much she’d let him see.

This was just a game to him, a twisted way to regain control. She wouldn’t let him win. Not now, not ever.

And yet, as she stared at the door he had just walked through, Mi-hee couldn’t shake the warmth lingering on her neck, the ghost of his touch refusing to fade.

ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ
ʰⁱᵉʳᵃʳᶜʰʸ