Science lab smells like chemicals and regret.
The long tables are cluttered with beakers, test tubes, labels taped crookedly, and that one laminated safety chart everyone pretends to read but never does. Ms. Kim is at the front, explaining something about reaction rates, goggles perched on her head instead of her eyes like always. Half the class is listening. The other half is just… present.
I'm in a group with Haerin, Taehyung, Kang Yerim, and—unfortunately—Yu Enhyeok.
Of course.
Enhyeok is standing there like this is his natural habitat. Sleeves rolled just enough. Gloves on properly. Goggles actually worn. Taehyung is beside him, quietly measuring, jotting things down, doing the real work without showing off.
Yerim is scrolling through her phone under the table, pretending she's "recording data." I'm leaning on my elbows, watching liquids change color because, okay, that part is kind of cool.
Blue turns purple. Purple turns cloudy. I hum softly, bored but mildly entertained.
Ms. Kim says something about pH levels. Someone asks a question. Enhyeok answers without looking up. Of course he does.
I glance at Haerin, who's carefullyiah-hard focused on the color change like it's a K-drama plot twist.
And then—yesterday pops into my head.
The elevator.
The hood.
The look.
I lean closer to Haerin and whisper, "Yesterday I went to the hospital."
She blinks at me. "To see your parents?"
I shake my head slowly. "No. Errand. But guess what."
Her eyes widen. "What?"
I grin despite myself. "I saw a dude. Like—actually insane. Handsome."
Taehyung snorts before he can stop himself. Yerim looks up immediately. Even Enhyeok's pen pauses for half a second.
"I swear," I continue, warming up now, "he had this magnetic aura. Tall. Hoodie. Judging the world silently. Definitely rich."
Haerin leans in. "Did he say anything?"
"No," I say dramatically. "He just looked at me and walked away like I was furniture."
That's when both Taehyung and Enhyeok snort.
I snap my head toward them. "Do you want to die?"
Taehyung lifts his hands. "Just—imagining it."
Enhyeok doesn't even look at me. "So," he says calmly, adjusting a clamp, "did you dump Jiho now?"
I freeze. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he says flatly.
"Don't say shit like this"
"Why get hyped over nothing?"
Nothing.
NOTHING??
My chest flares. "Nothing? That's not nothing to me."
He hums. "Figures."
I step closer. "How dare you say shit like that?"
"I'm just asking," he replies, maddeningly calm. "You're the one reacting."
"I can react if I want!"
Haerin tugs my sleeve. "Jiah. Please. Calm down."
"I can't," I hiss.
"Who's talking back there?" Ms. Kim calls out.
Silence slams down.
Everyone suddenly becomes extremely interested in their beakers.
I glare at Enhyeok.
He's looking at the equipment now, lips curved just enough.
Smirking.
I reach out without thinking, grabbing the bottle he's holding to move it away—
Liquid splashes against my arm. Heat. Sharp. Immediate.
And pain explodes
"Ah—fuck—" I hiss, yanking back.
My skin turns red instantly. Too fast. Angry red.
Panic erupts.
"Jiah!" Haerin gasps.
"Acid—" Yerim squeaks.
Enhyeok's already moving. "Let me see."
"No need," I snap, clutching my arm. It burns more where I touch it.
"Don't be stubborn," he says, and before I can react, he grabs my wrist.
His grip is firm. Warm. Too tight.
The burn flares again, worse, and something else—something weird—crawls up my spine.
I yank back. "Let go!"
"Teacher!" Haerin shouts.
Ms. Kim rushes over, face serious. She checks my arm quickly. "Enhyeok. Get her to the sink. Now."
"I'm fine," I say fast. "Haerin can come with me."
Haerin nods immediately.
"I'll go," Enhyeok says at the same time.
I turn on him. "Why you?"
He meets my eyes, expression unreadable. "Because I caused it."
The room feels too quiet.
Ms. Kim nods. "Go. Carefully."
I swallow.
Why him?
He doesn't even ask.
One second Ms. Kim is nodding, the next Enhyeok's hand is around my wrist again, firm like a decision already made. He steers me out of the lab, past the staring faces, past Haerin's worried eyes. The door swings shut behind us and the noise drops.
The hallway is colder.
Brighter.
I finally yank my arm free.
"I don't need your fucking help," I snap, heat flooding my face, not just my arm.
He stops walking but doesn't look surprised. Doesn't even look offended.
"I'm not offering," he says calmly, already turning toward the sink area outside the lab rooms.
I scoff and follow because my arm is still burning like hell and I hate that he knows it. "Why are you so annoying?"
He doesn't answer. Just reaches the sink, twists the tap on, checks the temperature with his fingers like he's done this before.
Too competent. I hate it.
He gently grabs my wrist again and guides my arm under the running water.
I hiss immediately and jerk back. "Fuck—Enhyeok, it hurts!"
He doesn't raise his voice. Doesn't rush. Just holds my wrist steady enough so I can't fully pull away. "Then behave."
I glare at him like I might actually bite.
I mutter a curse under my breath and let him guide my arm back under the stream. The water is cool, steady, relentless. The sting eases a little, then flares, then eases again. He adjusts the angle, slower this time, like he's calibrating me instead of the tap.
He's… good at this.
Annoyingly gentle. Focused. Brows drawn slightly together. Lips pressed in a thin line.
I glance at his face and my brain betrays me.
Hospital boy flashes across my mind. Hoodie. Elevator. That look.
And then Enhyeok, right here, jaw sharp, eyes steady.
If they stood side by side—
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
I shake my head slightly like I can physically knock the thought out. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I even comparing them? Why is my stomach doing that stupid dip thing?
I look away fast.
"Enjoying the view?" he asks casually.
"What—who—what?" I snap, startled.
He doesn't react. Just studies my arm. "It's worse than it looks."
I open my mouth to argue, because that's my default setting, but he's already turning off the tap.
"Come," he says. "lets go to the Nurse's room."
"It's not that bad," I protest, instinctive.
He rubs his temple like I've personally aged him five years. "Why do you make everything difficult?"
"Because it's you," I shoot back without thinking.
He pauses. Looks at me then. Really looks. "So you can go with your crush who rejected you six times in public, but not with me?"
"Yes," I say immediately. "That's correct."
He exhales sharply. "Fuck."
And then—
"Jiah?"
My body freezes before my brain catches up.
That voice.
I turn.
Baek Jiho is walking toward us, concern written all over his stupid handsome face. His eyes flick to my arm, red and angry, then back to my face.
"What happened?" he asks softly.
My heart does a dumb little flip. Traitor.
"It's nothing," I say quickly. "Just a chemical burn."
He steps closer. "Let me see."
He reaches out—
And suddenly my arm is yanked back, my shoulder colliding lightly with Enhyeok's chest. His grip is solid, protective, unmovable.
Jiho stops short, shock flickering across his face.
Enhyeok doesn't even look at me.
"No need," he says flatly.
I stare up at him like are you actually insane right now??
Jiho laughs awkwardly. "I'll take her to the nurse then—"
I'm about to say yes. This is literally my chance.
I nudge Enhyeok subtly and mouth, bro, he's my crush, let go.
He ignores me completely.
Instead, he tightens his hold just enough and looks straight at Jiho.
"Mind your business," he says coolly. "Baek Jiho."