I stared at the phone I’d set down on the desk, weighing my options. At this point, it almost felt like it would be better to just leave altogether.
As the break ended and undergraduates rushed back into the classroom, I began packing up. Not that there was much to pack—just my major textbook and a pen.
I swept them into my bag and removed the glasses I’d been wearing. Go Heemin, who was sitting not far away, looked over at me.
“What? You leaving?”
“……”
And whose fault is that? The sight of him curling up the corners of his mouth like something was funny only soured my mood further.
I’d definitely planned to spend a good morning with Cha Jungwoo. We were supposed to grab coffee at the cafeteria and, little by little, coax things along so we could stay together all afternoon.
But out of nowhere, Go Heemin and Kang Taeyoon had barged in and ruined everything. Kang Taeyoon had snatched Cha Jungwoo away after he’d been lamenting about a canceled class.
The guy next to me pulled this kind of stunt often enough that I’d learned to brush it off. But I hadn’t expected Kang Taeyoon to act like that too. The memory of having him taken right in front of me wouldn’t leave my mind.
I could picture Kang Taeyoon’s handsome face as he’d stopped Cha Jungwoo, claiming he had something to do. I tapped the table with my fingers. Go Heemin, who had been scanning me like he was observing something, followed the movement with his eyes.
Because I’d been pretending to be mild and agreeable in front of Cha Jungwoo, I hadn’t been able to refuse when Go Heemin insisted I attend his class. That resentment gnawed at me.
For a moment, I regretted choosing the wrong character to embody. But when I checked my phone and saw there was no reply to the message I’d sent, the thin thread of patience I’d been clinging to snapped.
I knew Kang Taeyoon wouldn’t do anything reckless with Go Heemin around, but that didn’t stop the simmering heat in my gut.
Even if I had to make up an excuse, I’d wedge myself into their group—or pull Cha Jungwoo out. With that resolve, I gathered my things and stood up.
“Huh. So now you’re just ignoring me?”
I let out a scoff at Go Heemin’s muttering. He should be grateful I wasn’t swearing at him. Honestly, the fact that we were maintaining any sort of relationship at all was impressive.
“Hey, Min Siheon. You coming later?”
“I’m not.”
“Hm~ Really? He’ll be there too, you know?”
He must’ve meant what he’d been pestering me about since morning. Something about a birthday, a bar—whatever that conversation had been.
He’d been subtly needling me, using Cha Jungwoo like a hostage since earlier. When I shot him a cold look, Go Heemin finally turned forward as if he knew nothing.
“Oh, professor’s here. If you’re gonna ditch, better hurry, delinquent.”
This was why I hated Go Heemin. His hit-and-run timing was expert-level—I could only click my tongue.
He must’ve sensed that if he pushed me just a little more, I’d flip everything—image be damned.
Feeling the stiffness at the corners of my mouth, I left the lecture hall. …There were too many eyes watching, so I let it slide.
I repeated to myself that I was only holding back so it wouldn’t reach Cha Jungwoo’s ears.
With that, I made my way toward the smoking area Cha Jungwoo frequented. I was wandering around campus one last time before trying to contact him again.
I stared at the ground littered with cigarette butts before pulling my phone from my pocket.
It was now certain—Cha Jungwoo wasn’t on campus.
Where did he take him? My fingers were already busy dialing Cha Jungwoo’s number. After the familiar eleven digits, the call connected.
I leaned against the spot where Cha Jungwoo often stood, mirroring the way he usually positioned himself.
Beyond the cold asphalt wall, the air shimmered like a mirage. I knew I was already deep in this, but a strange bitterness still spread across my tongue.
How much longer do I have to wait? I looked up at the cloudless sky in the aimless stretch of time.
As if it understood my feelings, that was when Cha Jungwoo picked up.
Suppressing the turmoil inside me, I called his name the moment I heard the line connect.
—Yeah, what is it.
Even though I’d known nothing serious could’ve happened, the sound of his voice made a deep sigh spill out.
I swallowed it down so he wouldn’t notice and began asking what I’d been wondering.
“Are you still with Taeyoon?”
—It just kind of happened.
Ah. Maybe I should’ve gotten rid of him after all. My gaze fell to my free hand.
I studied the smooth back of my hand—unmarked, uninjured—then turned it over and examined the palm carefully. The faint scraping sound grated against my nerves.
—(Is that Min Siheon?) Yeah, but isn’t he supposed to be in class right now? (Then what’s Go Heemin doing?) How should I know.
The moment I heard Kang Taeyoon’s voice, my hesitation hardened into resolve. I clenched my fist, fingers digging in.
—Hey, Siheon. Kang Taeyoon’s asking what Go Heemin’s doing.
“Heemin’s in class.”
—Then you?
“I wasn’t feeling well. So I left.”
—…Again?
“Yeah. A little.”
If Cha Jungwoo hadn’t spoken to me like that… I couldn’t even bring myself to hate this particular intruder. I let out a quiet sigh as I answered.
Go Heemin was probably enjoying himself in class, amused at teasing me. But I didn’t feel as bad as before. Maybe it was because I could picture Cha Jungwoo’s worried expression. Compared to earlier, I felt like I could endure it.
I imagined him frowning, concern clouding his dark eyes. I wanted to see that worry reflected there.
—Then go home and rest.
Judging by the situation, it didn’t seem easy to pull Cha Jungwoo away immediately. I’d planned to slip naturally into their company, but since I’d just claimed to be sick and stirred his sympathy, that option was off the table.
Then I’d just have to create an opportunity to see him.
As I thought through what might work, the topic Go Heemin had mentioned earlier flashed through my mind. I hadn’t had any intention of going before. But now, I’d use whatever I could.
“No, wait—Jungwoo, you heard about it too? They’re having drinks tonight to celebrate Heemin’s birthday. …You’re coming, right?”
—Tonight? Kang Taeyoon, what’s he talking about? (What?) Drinks. Heemin’s birthday isn’t for a while. Is there a gathering today? (We talked about it this morning. I think he said he’d ask you at lunch.) Then why’s he bringing it up now?
The exchange between Cha Jungwoo and Kang Taeyoon made my chest feel tight. I hadn’t realized I’d grow jealous over just a few words from a relationship that couldn’t even be called particularly close.
“…Ha.”
I exhaled and looked at my clenched fist. It’s time you look at me now, Jungwoo. I’d waited long enough. Turning away from the wall, I faced the building.
The space was dim under the building’s shadow. Staring at the rough asphalt exterior, I held my phone to my ear and spoke casually.
I looked at my tightly clenched right fist, then extended my arm and dragged it hard against the coarse wall.
A dull thud echoed as skin split, my knuckles tearing open and reddening instantly.
I must’ve been more angry than I thought. The tension in my jaw and the gash now splitting my skin spoke for the emotions I hadn’t acknowledged.
It wasn’t just mindless anger taken out on a wall.
—What was that? I just heard something.
“Oh, I bumped into the wall for a second.”
—Are you hurt badly?
Cha Jungwoo was so gentle. When that gentleness was directed at me, it felt like I had the whole world in my hands.
If an opportunity didn’t come, I’d make one myself. I would use Cha Jungwoo’s soft heart to satisfy my own selfish desires.
“No. …So, Jungwoo, you’re coming tonight, right?”
—Hey, that’s not what matters right now.
“Are you coming?”
You will, won’t you? I told you I was hurt. Even if it wasn’t a promise, you’d come check on me. You’d worry.
That was why I carved a wound into my own body—to make him care.
“Jungwoo, come quickly.”
I tilted my head back, staring at the blood trickling from my fingers. His kindness had definitely ruined me. But I couldn’t stop now.
I need you. Even the stinging pain felt distant and dull.
Let evening come soon. I prayed beneath the clear sky. If Cha Jungwoo ever found out, he’d probably click his tongue at how obsessive I’d become.
It was a gathering to celebrate Go Heemin’s birthday. I hadn’t planned on attending, but with my plans changed, I had no choice but to show up.
Ignoring Go Heemin’s smug grin, I took a seat on the sofa in the corner. The others who’d been about to talk to me retreated after seeing the state I was in.
I glanced at the bandage I’d carelessly stuck over the back of my hand and then closed my eyes. The moment I saw Cha Jungwoo’s face in my mind over the ruined skin, it felt like I couldn’t hold out any longer.
With my stomach churning so badly I couldn’t even swallow a sip of water, I waited—again and again—for Cha Jungwoo to arrive.
How much time had passed? A commotion stirred from somewhere in the distance.
The one being warmly welcomed by the others was none other than Cha Jungwoo.
I pictured Cha Jungwoo at the center of that noise, loved by everyone. Not wanting to see it, I kept my eyes shut, but as the voices drew closer, nausea twisted in my gut.
Just a little more. Just a little more. It was when a shadow fell darkly beyond my closed eyelids. Imagining the person now standing before me, I reached out toward my intended target.
“Ah— that hurts.”
Maybe I’d grabbed him harder than I thought—Cha Jungwoo’s brows furrowed.
Feigning pain, he turned his gaze to the injury on the back of my hand. My grip was tight enough to make the bones stand out beneath his skin. Yet Cha Jungwoo showed no sign of complaint.
As if nothing else in the world mattered, he was too busy staring at the wound beneath the tattered bandage.
A fierce surge of joy flooded me. Yes. This was exactly what I wanted.
Perhaps Cha Jungwoo instinctively sensed the strange shift in atmosphere. Trying to change the subject, he pried my hand from his wrist and sat down.
Then he set his bag down and began carefully examining the wound on the back of my hand.
“…Jungwoo. It’s you.”
“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be? Move over a little so I can sit too.”
Unaware of the expression I was making just above his lowered head, he studied the torn skin.
Was he feeling the pain on my behalf? His brows knit together as if it hurt him instead.
I smoothed the crease between his brows with my finger, silently asking him to worry just a little more. The softness of his skin beneath my touch slowly melted the tension coiled tight inside me.
“The back of your hand—how did this even happen?”
“Mm. I scraped it against a wall.”
“How do you even manage that? You don’t look careless at all, but you’re surprisingly clumsy.”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve hated the nagging. But now, it sounded sweet. To receive this much attention over a wound like this—
the deep satisfaction blooming inside me felt like something I could repeat over and over again.
