Jiah POV
I walk straight into something—no, someone—and my forehead ricochets off a shoulder that feels like it's made of marble, gym discipline, and generational wealth. I swear my brain glitches for a second.
"Ow—what the hell—" I snap automatically, rubbing my forehead like I'm trying to revive my last brain cell. Then I look up.
And freeze.
Because it's her.
Park Areum.
Enhyeok's girlfriend.
She blinks at me softly, almost delicately, like she belongs in a completely different world than mine.
"Oh—sorry," she says gently, touching her shoulder as if she's the one who got hit.
I blink twice, still slightly malfunctioning.
"No—my bad," I manage, forcing a smile that probably looks painful. "I walk like a blind pigeon."
She gives me a small, polite smile and steps around me smoothly, like she's gliding instead of walking.
And yeah, fine. She's pretty.
Not just pretty—effortlessly pretty. Soft, elegant, always-composed kind of pretty. The kind of girl whose hair falls perfectly without trying.
She's also the only person Enhyeok talks to without looking like he's calculating something dangerous. The only one he actually smiles at, which honestly feels illegal because I was convinced he physically couldn't.
Whatever.
I don't care.
They look like the kind of rich couple from dramas who casually discuss investments over brunch.
I shuffle back to my desk, still slightly embarrassed, and drop into my seat. The classroom feels oddly quiet for a moment, like it's giving me time to recover from that interaction.
Enhyeok's seat next to mine is empty.
Good.
I toss my bag down, stretch my legs, and try not to think about the fact that I just headbutted Park Areum like an untrained animal.
The bell rings.
Students start flooding into the classroom. A moment later, the door slides open again and Minseok walks in first, loud as usual, followed by Taeyoung, who looks half-asleep.
Then Enhyeok walks in.
He moves like he owns the place—expression blank, uniform neat, every step controlled. He sits down beside me without a glance, without acknowledgment, like I don't exist.
And then I smell it.
His cologne.
It's clean, warm, annoyingly good—something expensive and subtle that makes my brain pause for a second.
I immediately stare at my textbook.
Do not react. Do not inhale like a weirdo.
I sit up straighter, mentally scolding myself. I refuse to be the person who gets distracted by someone's scent.
Before I can fully recover, the classroom door opens again.
Coach Lee walks in, whistle hanging around his neck, already looking like he's about to ruin everyone's mood.
"No class right now," he announces loudly. "Field. Now."
The entire class groans.
Chairs scrape, people complain, someone loudly questions why this is happening after we just sat down.
I drop my head onto my desk and let out a long, defeated sound.
PE. Right now.
In this weather.
With this level of energy.
This feels like a personal attack.
Bora grabs my wrist. "Come on. Locker room before he starts yelling again."
We drag ourselves down the hallway, completely unmotivated.
Inside the locker room, I pull off my blazer and grab my PE uniform, staring at it like it personally offended me.
"This is the beginning of my villain arc," I mutter.
I already feel tired, and I haven't even stepped onto the field yet.
---
The moment we step outside, Coach Lee blows his whistle sharply.
"Class 2–3, line up! Thirty crunches. Move."
Thirty.
Crunches.
My soul immediately considers leaving my body.
Bora groans. Haerin looks like she might cry. I seriously consider collapsing onto the grass just to escape.
We line up anyway.
"Pair up!" Coach shouts.
And instantly, my stomach drops.
Because my partner is—
No.
Absolutely not.
"I need a girl," I mutter, looking around desperately. "Why am I paired with him?"
I scan the field, hoping to switch with someone.
That's when I notice something strange.
Taehyung.
Looking at Bora.
Softly.
Not just looking—staring, but in a quiet, almost careful way.
I blink.
Then blink again.
Han Taehyung—the quiet one, the one who barely looks at anyone—is staring at Bora like she's something important.
Bora turns her head.
He immediately looks away, too fast to be natural.
I stand there, confused, trying to process what I just saw.
That did not just happen.
There's no way.
I shake my head, almost laughing to myself.
I'm still caught up in that when I suddenly feel someone behind me.
Too close.
Warm.
I turn quickly.
Enhyeok.
Standing right there.
Close enough to make me step back slightly.
"What are you doing?" he asks calmly.
"I'm not doing anything," I reply.
"Exactly," he says. "That's the problem."
"What does that even mean?"
"Get ready."
I sigh and drop onto the grass.
"Do you want to switch?" I ask, even though I already know the answer. "You go to Minseok, I go to Haerin. Easy."
He looks at me like I said something unnecessary.
"Switch what?"
"You know what."
"I don't have the energy," he says. "Start."
I glare at him but lie down anyway.
He crouches near my feet and grips my ankles to hold them steady.
His hands are warm.
Firm.
Steady.
I try not to think about it.
I start doing crunches.
And then I realize something.
He's watching me.
Not casually. Not occasionally.
Actually watching.
Direct eye contact. No hesitation.
I look away immediately, focusing on literally anything else.
Why is he staring like that?
I lift again.
He's still looking.
Completely calm. Completely unbothered.
"Focus," he says.
Focus?
How am I supposed to focus when he's staring at me like that?
I keep going, trying to ignore it, but every time I come up—
He's there.
Right there.
Watching.
My brain stops working properly. My breathing feels off. This whole situation is unnecessarily intense.
This is actual torture.
___________
Enhyeok POV
.
.
Fuck.