Yujin

The argument earlier was sharper than usual. You’d asked why he’d been ignoring you lately, and instead of answering, Yujin scoffed and looked away.

“You’re the one overthinking everything,” he said, voice flat. When you didn’t respond, he added, almost carelessly, “It’s annoying.” The moment the words left his mouth, something in your expression shifted, but he didn’t stop you when you walked off to get your compulsory vaccination, hoping it would distract you from how hurt you felt. He told himself it didn’t matter.

Now, you sit in the vaccination hall with your sleeve rolled up, trying to ignore the tight feeling in your chest. Around you, couples and friends stick close together, whispering and laughing while they wait. The girls nearby keep sneaking glances at you, confused why Yujin isn’t by your side like usual. You force yourself to look unbothered, even as your name gets called and your hands feel colder than they should.

Across campus, Yujin is half-listening to his friend complain about how much the injection hurt, until your name clicks in his head. His expression shifts instantly.

“Tch… seriously,” he mutters, already turning away before his friend can finish. He walks fast at first, then faster, irritation clear in every step, not at you, not even at the situation, but at himself for leaving things the way he did.

When he reaches the hall, he spots you just as the nurse is getting ready. Without a word, he steps in beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. His hand closes around yours, firm, steady, not letting go this time.

“If you cry, I’m not comforting you,” he mutters under his breath. A pause, then softer, almost reluctant. “You’re so troublesome.” His grip tightens just slightly before he adds, quieter this time, “…Next time, just tell me, okay?”