Annyeongz One-shots

45. Overdrive ( 3 )

By the time Yujin finally stepped away from the quiet backstage corner, the atmosphere had shifted. The students were gathering near the exits, waving banners and calling out farewells. Wonyoung, clipboard still clutched in one hand, moved gracefully through the crowd, coordinating her batchmates and making sure the F1 team had smooth access to the waiting cars. Her voice was calm but firm, carrying lightly over the murmur of students.

Yujin watched her for a moment, the way her posture remained professional despite the exhaustion that surely lay just beneath the surface. She was commanding, yet still moving with that quiet, precise elegance that made it impossible not to notice her.

He shook his head slightly, trying to snap himself out of the lingering emotions from their earlier conversation. Slowly, deliberately, he turned back toward his teammates, who were gathered near the hall entrance, stretching, joking, and brushing off the remnants of adrenaline from the earlier sessions.

Jihoon noticed him first and grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Well, well, look who’s finally come back from… what, an emotional showdown in the storage room?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun chimed in, nudging him with an elbow. “Don’t tell me you actually talked to her? Spill, man. How did it go? Did you confess? Did she faint? Did the whole hall collapse under the tension?”

Yujin only smiled, that faint, calm, slightly dangerous smile that always made them pause. “It was… fine,” he said simply, letting his words hang between ambiguity and amusement.

Jihoon let out a low whistle, smirking. “Fine, he says. That’s like… a code word for ‘I’m absolutely wrecked but trying not to admit it.’ Come on, spill!”

Yujin shook his head subtly, scanning the hall one last time. Wonyoung was still there, leading his teammates toward the waiting cars, coordinating the waving goodbye, keeping the students in line. He noticed the small details—the way she leaned slightly to hand a student a water bottle, the gentle tilt of her head as she smiled and nodded at another, the careful way she avoided drawing unnecessary attention to herself.

“She’s… good at this,” Yujin murmured, mostly to himself, but Jihoon caught it and nudged him.

“Good at what?” Jihoon teased, eyes glinting. “Running away from you?”

“Shut up,” Yujin muttered, though his lips quirked into that faint smile again.

Jaehyun laughed, leaning on the hood of the nearby car. “I swear, you’re like a kid in a candy store whenever she’s around. Admit it, you’re obsessed.”

“I’m not obsessed,” Yujin said evenly, though there was a subtle edge of heat behind the calmness in his tone. “I just… pay attention. That’s all.”

Jihoon snorted. “Yeah, sure. Paying attention. You’ve been brooding all day, staring at her like she’s the finish line and you’ve been stuck in the pit stop. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Yujin didn’t answer, just gave that same faint, unreadable smile and adjusted the zipper of his jacket. His gaze flicked toward Wonyoung again, who was now guiding a group of students in a wave goodbye. She was moving quickly, efficiently, smiling politely, nodding, all while keeping an eye on the team. Yujin’s hand flexed slightly, almost subconsciously, remembering how he had pulled her hand earlier—how he had wanted, even briefly, to bridge the distance she always maintained.

Finally, the last of the students waved goodbye and started filtering out of the hall. Wonyoung allowed herself a brief exhale, tucking her clipboard under one arm, and led the F1 team toward the waiting cars. Yujin followed, his teammates joking and chattering behind him, but he stayed focused on her. Even from a distance, there was something about the way she carried herself—careful, professional, yet undeniably human—that held his attention.