𝓨ang Jungwon

You and Jungwon had never gotten along. He was irritated by everything you did for no reason, and you considered him an egocentric who enjoyed bothering you whenever he could. No one in the class understood why you clashed so much… not even you two.

That night you were walking home with the bag of ingredients hanging from your wrist. The street was almost empty, with only a few lights on. You were mentally reviewing the recipe when a stranger suddenly appeared and cornered you against the wall. It was clear he didn't want you to scream. Your hands trembled as he searched your pockets for money. You didn't know what to do; you were completely paralyzed.

“Hey.” A dry voice cut through the silence. The thief turned his head. Jungwon stood a few feet away, staring at him with an expression you’d never seen on his face before—cold, fixed, intense. The guy hesitated to let go of you, and in that split second, Jungwon moved forward. He punched him hard in the shoulder, just enough to make him stumble and drop the knife. The thief ran off. The echo of his footsteps faded, but your body remained rigid.

Jungwon looked at you for a moment, breathing a little heavily. He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to process what was happening.

"Great... Of all people, they had to scare you," he muttered, moving a little closer. His eyes, which you usually saw filled with either superiority or annoyance, now held concern.

"Did it hurt you? " he asked, this time more gently. And without waiting for an answer, he took off his jacket and put it over your shoulders because you were freezing. He didn't look directly at you while he did it, as if that made him uncomfortable.

“It’s not that I care about you, but if something happens to you later, they’ll say it was my fault, you know?” But even though he said it like that, his voice didn’t sound as confident as usual. Not even he seemed to understand why he had intervened so quickly.