HAEUN.

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     "Girls, less talking, more running!" our gym teacher barks, his voice cutting through the thick summer air.

     Me, Gaeul, and Yujin groan in unison. The sun presses down on us relentlessly, our P.E clothes clinging uncomfortably to our skin. My back is already damp with sweat, my breath coming out in ragged pants.

     "I hate this," I grumble between gasps.

     "Tell me about it..." Gaeul huffs beside me.

     By the third lap, my legs feel like lead. Every step sends a dull ache up my calves, my body screaming at me to stop. The track stretches endlessly ahead, the heat rippling off the pavement in waves.

     We're ahead—I'll give us that. But I can feel my energy slipping. Two nights without sleep, hunched over my neurology notes, have finally caught up to me. My head pounds, my vision swims. I can barely focus.

     But I push forward.

     Because Sunghoon's still ahead of me.

     I hate this. He's only trying this hard because I'm here. He only ever tries when I'm involved.

     And the worst part? It comes easy to him. The talent, the brains, the way he holds himself together. I have to work twice as hard just to stand in the same league.

     "Sunghoon, son!" The gym teacher's voice rings out. He waves him over, mumbling something about retrieving equipment from the gym. Sunghoon nods and jogs off the track without hesitation.

     I glare daggers at his retreating figure, watching until he disappears into the school.

     That's when I feel it. A presence behind me. Too close.

     It's not Yujin or Gaeul.

     It's Hajoon.

     A slow heat rises in my chest, anger curling around my ribs like a vice. My fingers twitch at my sides, itching to ball into fists. I don't look at him, don't acknowledge him, but I can feel his stare boring into me.

     "So you told Sunghoon to beat me up?"

     I freeze.

     Yujin and Gaeul keep running, not realizing I've stopped until a few seconds later.

     Slowly, I turn. My eyes land on the bruises still faintly visible along Hajoon's cheekbone and around his eye.

     And then it clicks.

     The cuts on Sunghoon's knuckles.

     Sunghoon had something to do with all this?

     Yeah, right. If anything, he probably found Hajoon after seeing the note he wrote and shared the exact same, if not worse, hatred with him.

     "What are you talking about?" My voice is tight.

     Hajoon scoffs, his lips curling into a sneer. "Don't play dumb. You act like you're above everyone, but the second something happens, you have people fighting your battles for you." His voice drops, a mocking lilt creeping in. "Too bad your little knight in shining armour isn't here right now."

     My body tenses. "What—"

     Before I can finish, his foot hooks around my ankle.

     I don't have time to react as my world tilts.

     The sharp sting of tiny, jagged rocks against my palms makes me suck in a breath, pain flaring up my scraped knees. The impact sends a shockwave through my already exhausted body, knocking the air from my lungs.

     "Haeun!" Yujin yells, rushing toward me.

     "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Gaeul snaps, but Hajoon is already disappearing into the crowd, laughing under his breath.

     I blink, trying to clear the black spots dancing in my vision. The heat is suffocating, wrapping around me like a second skin. My fingers tremble against the rough pavement. My whole body feels wrong—too hot, too cold, too weak.

     "Haeun, are you okay?" Yujin kneels beside me, her hands hovering uncertainly over my arms.

     No. No, I don't think I am.

     There's a heaviness in my limbs, and I think I have a fever coming on. The pounding in my skull makes it hard to focus.

     I just want to go home.

     "Woah, woah, woah. I never said you could have a mother's meeting in the middle of the track," the gym teacher's voice cuts in, heavy with impatience.

     Gaeul rounds on him, furious. "Can't you see she's hurt?!"

     He sighs, rubbing his temples. "She can go to the infirmary. Alone. It's just some scrapes."

     "We can come with you, Eun," Yujin says, worry creasing her forehead.

     I force a weak smile, even though there are two Yujins in front of me right now. "It's fine. Just scratches."

     They don't believe me. I can feel it. But I nod anyway, pushing myself unsteadily to my feet.

     The moment I step into the school building, the cooler air wraps around me, but it does little to soothe the dizziness crawling through my skull.

     Just get to the infirmary, Haeun. That's all you need to do.

     "Hammie!"

     You have got to be kidding me. Of all times, of all people—he just has to show up now.

     I turn around, regretting it instantly as a sharp, splitting pain shoots through my skull. My vision wavers for a moment before settling on Sunghoon.

     He's standing a few feet away, his navy PE shirt damp with sweat, hair pushed back from his forehead. The usual indifference on his face is gone, replaced with something unreadable.

     "What?" I mutter, my voice coming out weaker than I want.

     His eyes rake over me—down to my scraped palms, the dirt clinging to my knees, the sluggish trickle of blood trailing down my shin. His brows knit together.

     "What happened." It's not even a question.

     I roll my shoulders back, feigning indifference. "I fell," I deadpan, as if it isn't already obvious.

     Sunghoon's jaw tightens. His voice sharpens. "Wow, thanks for the clarification." He exhales sharply, patience thinning. "I mean—how did this happen, Haeun?"

     "It doesn't matter. Just leave it."

     I turn to go, already willing my body to move faster, but before I can take a step, his hand catches my wrist.

     It's firm, but not rough. A steady, grounding grip. I freeze.

     Then I whirl back, too fast. The sudden motion makes my head spin, a fresh wave of dizziness washing over me. My vision tunnels for a split second before clearing, and I have to blink rapidly to steady myself.

     "Sunghoon, leave me alone."

     But he doesn't.

     Instead, his grip on my wrist tightens, just slightly, enough to keep me from slipping away. His gaze sharpens, searching my face, like he can see straight through my deflection.

     "Did someone do this to you?" His voice is quieter now, but there's an edge to it. Something that sounds almost dangerous.

     I open my mouth—then snap it shut.

     I don't answer.

     My silence seems to be enough of an answer for him.

     Sunghoon exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as something flickers through his expression—something dark, something unreadable. His gaze flickers down to my scraped hands, my raw knees, then back up to my face.

     And then—

     "Who."

     It's not a question. It's a demand.

     I swallow. "It doesn't matter."

     "Haeun."

     My name leaves his lips slow, deliberate. His voice drops an octave, low enough to send a ripple down my spine. "Who did this to you?"

     I shake my head. "It's not—"

     "Who."

     His grip shifts—barely, but enough. Enough to make my pulse lurch in my throat. Enough to tell me he's holding himself back.

     What the hell is wrong with him?

     "It's nothing, Sunghoon," I say, forcing my voice to steady, even as my knees threaten to buckle. "It's not worth your time."

     His lips press into a thin line. His entire posture is rigid, like he's barely restraining himself from snapping. "That's not your call to make."

     Silence stretches between us. Thick, buzzing, loaded.

     Then, suddenly, he exhales sharply, releasing my wrist.

     "I'll take you to the infirmary."

     I blink. "What?"

     "Your knees. Your hands." His eyes flicker to them again. "Come with me."

     "I can do it myself."

     "You're shaking, Hammie."

     I glance down. He's right.

     My fingers tremble faintly—whether from exhaustion or adrenaline, I can't tell. I hate that he noticed. Why did he notice?

     "It doesn't matter." I yank my arm back, stepping away from him. "I said I can do it myself."

     Sunghoon doesn't move. His eyes stay locked onto mine, unreadable, assessing. Then—annoyingly, infuriatingly—his lips curl upward. "Oh, really?"

     I glare at him. "Yes. Really."

     "Then walk there."

     I scoff. "Excuse me?"

     "Walk to the infirmary. Right now. Without wobbling like a new-born deer." He crosses his arms, tilting his head slightly. "Go ahead. I'll wait."

     I clench my jaw.

     Petty bastard.

     I lift my foot and step forward—

     Pain. A sharp, burning sting shooting through my knee, straight up my thigh. I falter. My balance sways. I barely manage to stop myself from stumbling.

     Sunghoon doesn't say anything. Doesn't smirk, doesn't gloat. Just watches.

     I straighten immediately, biting the inside of my cheek. I can do this. It's fine. I'll walk to the infirmary.

     I try to take another step, determined, but the sharp burn in my knee shoots straight up my leg, forcing me to suck in a breath.

     This isn't happening. I refuse to give in.

     "Hammie." His voice again—low, firm, and irritatingly calm.

     I grit my teeth at the stupid nickname and keep walking. "I don't need your help, Sunghoon."

     He lets out an exaggerated sigh, like he's tired of hearing the same old spiel. "Right. Of course you don't. You can totally walk on a broken leg, too, huh?"

     I push through the pain, but it's getting harder to ignore. Each step feels like dragging my body through concrete. I'm not giving in. I'm not. But then, I feel it—my legs are buckling. It's like my body just says, fuck it, and I stumble, unable to catch myself in time.

     Before I can crash to the ground, I feel his hand grip my arm, steadying me.

     "You're not doing this, Haeun," he says, his voice tight with something I can't quite place.

     I open my mouth to argue, but he kneels. Kneels down, with his broad back facing me.

     "What the hell are you doing?!"

     He doesn't respond, just turns his head and stares at me. His eyes are determined, like he's made some kind of decision.

     That's when it hits me.

     He wants me to get on his back.

     He wants to give me a piggyback ride.

     "Sunghoon," I snap, "No."

     He raises an eyebrow. "I didn't ask for your permission."

     "I'm still not—"

     "Get on."

     I stare at him, wide-eyed for a second. "No. What is up with you?"

     "Would you look at who's talking." He's annoyingly calm, like this is the most natural thing in the world. "Come on, Haeun. I'm waiting."

     I take a step back, shaking my head furiously. "I'm not getting on your back, Sunghoon. I'm not some damsel in distress."

     "Well, that's funny because you sure look like one right now. More distress, less damsel," he says, and there's that stupid, stupid grin. "You can't even stand. But sure, walk on your own if you're so proud."

     "I don't need your help!" I snap, clenching my fists. "I can walk just fine, so stop acting like—"

     "No, you can't." His voice drops, cutting through my tantrum like a knife. "You can barely stay upright. So either you get on or I throw you over my shoulder, but one way or another, you're going to the infirmary."

     I step back again, trying to gather myself, but the dizziness is setting in and my legs are shaking. I grit my teeth, desperate not to show any weakness, but it's pointless.

     Before I can even think about it, his hand wraps around my wrist—too fast, too strong—and yanks me forward, making me fall onto his back.

     I gasp, the sudden movement making my head spin, and before I can protest, his other arm goes under my legs. What the hell?

     "Sunghoon!"

     "Shut up," he mutters under his breath, and with a sudden jerk, he lifts me completely off the ground—like I'm weightless.

     My brain short-circuits. "What the hell is this?"

     "It's a piggyback ride," he says with a shrug, completely unbothered. "Hold on, Hammie. Or I'll drop you."

     "I am not holding on!" I shout, trying to squirm, but his grip on me is rock solid. "Let go of me, Sunghoon, I swear I will—"

     "You'll what? Throw a tantrum while I carry you?" He grins, clearly enjoying this. "You wanted to be stubborn. Well, now you can be stubborn while I do all the work. You're welcome."

     "I hate you," I grumble.

     "I know," he replies with that infuriating calmness, his pace steady and completely unaffected by my protests. "You're welcome, though."

     And just like that, I'm stuck, halfway between wanting to strangle him and wanting to collapse from exhaustion.

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haeun if you dont want the piggyback ill gladly take it haha.....

wordcount; 2183
edited; ✘

thank you for reading, 
nana<3