Solo Panicking

Plotting and Plans

Jinwoo had stopped by your apartment intending to check in. That was all. A simple visit to see how you were doing after the chaos of becoming S-Ranks. He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could meet the wood, the door creaked open. Jinwoo blinked, his eyes immediately locking onto Ignis, who sat proudly by the doorframe, tail swishing like he'd just completed a monumental task.

"Ignis–" Jinwoo began, but the words died on his lips when he looked up, noticing movement.

There you were, standing in the middle of the hallway, dripping wet and wrapped in nothing but a towel.

Time seemed to freeze. His brain scrambled for something, anything, to say, but all coherent thought was swept away by the sight of you. Your damp hair clung to your neck and shoulders, little beads of water trailing along your skin before disappearing into the plush fabric barely covering you.

'Oh'

He felt like he'd been punched in the chest. His eyes betrayed him, lingering too long on the curve of your shoulders, the soft line of your collarbone, the bare expanse of your legs. His throat went dry, and he clenched his fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms as if the pain might snap him out of it.

'Don't stare. Don't stare.' He scolded himself while realizing he was still staring at you.

But how could he not? You looked— No. Jinwoo cut that thought off, swallowing hard. This is not the time.

"I—uh–" he stammered, hating the way his voice cracked. His composure, something he prided himself on, was unraveling by the second. "I didn't– I mean, I knocked, but..."

Your wide-eyed expression shifted to something more flustered, and Jinwoo's heart stuttered at the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. "Ignis," you hissed, glaring at the dragon who sat there smugly.

Jinwoo forced himself to look away, fixing his gaze firmly on the far wall. "I didn't mean to... interrupt," he muttered, his voice lower than usual.

"No, it's fine," you replied, your tone higher-pitched than normal. He caught the slight tremor in your voice, the way you tugged the towel a little tighter around yourself, and it was doing things to him.

'Focus on something else. Anything else.'

But the faint scent of your shampoo wafted toward him, warm and sweet, and he clenched his jaw, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling. He shoved his hands into his pockets, fingers curling tightly into his palms. 'Why the hell am I like this?'

You shifted, drawing his attention again despite himself. He caught the way the towel tightened slightly with the movement, exposing more of your legs. His eyes darted away, heat pooling low in his stomach as he fought the urge to run a hand through his hair in frustration. Or better yet dang his head against the wall

"I'll just... grab some clothes," you said quickly, your voice shaky as you backed toward your bedroom.

"Yeah," Jinwoo replied, his tone strained. "Sure."

He didn't move until he heard the door to your room click shut, and even then, he didn't dare exhale fully. His hands were trembling slightly in his pockets, and he forced them to stay there, lest they betray his turmoil.

'What the hell was that?'

He leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, trying to will away the images now seared into his brain. Or better yet bang his head against the wall, for acting like a hormonal teenager in the presence of his crush. The curve of your legs, the flush of your cheeks, the way you'd clutched that towel like your life depended on it, it was all too vivid.