Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 70: Down Under

"Exactly," Shuaibo said. "Craft respects craft."

Chih En looked at him for a beat too long. Then, softly, "You meant it, didn't you? Back in the dorms. About leaving it all behind if it meant not running with us again."

Shuaibo gave a lopsided grin. "What's the fun if I'm not competing with the best? And that includes you, doesn't it?"

For a second, neither of them moved. The noise of the kitchen faded around them -- like the space between them had peeled off from the rest of the world.

Then, softly, Chih En said, "You don't have to compete."

His eyes flicked down, just barely, then back up again.

"Not with me."

Shuaibo met Chih En's gaze -- that calm, unblinking focus -- and felt something in his chest tip forward, stupid and weightless.

Room assignments should've been simple. Should've. But Juwon had a system.

"We're drawing straws," he announced, shaking a mason jar that had nine folded slips of paper inside. "It's randomized. It's democratic. It's chaos-proof."

"It's dumb," Woongki said, already eyeing the rooms like a predator picking out prey. "What if I get the one with bad mirror lighting?"

They gathered in the entryway, each pulling a paper with a room name written in Juwon's looping script. No one really knew which rooms were beside which yet -- not without exploring the whole estate.

One by one, they peeled off to find their assigned spaces, the villa's long hallways branching like quiet trails into glass-walled wings.

Steven's room was upstairs. Spacious, shaded, and with an uninterrupted view of the hills. He didn't complain. 

Han had already unpacked.

His room was tucked at the far end of the east wing, quiet and low-lit, with sliding doors that opened onto the garden. Even though it had been drawn by luck, it would have been his first choice -- privacy, distance, a view.

He hadn't expected JL to end up in the room right next to his.

So when he stepped back into the hallway and saw him there -- standing by the doorway, suitcase at his side, fingers curled loosely around the handle -- Han stopped.

JL looked up. Calm. Almost too calm. 

Han's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're here," he said. Neutral. Trying to be.

JL nodded. "I drew this one." He held up the slip of paper like evidence, then tucked it back into his pocket. "East wing. Next to you I guess."

Han's jaw tensed. "You gonna switch?"

JL tilted his head, considering. "Should I?"

Han didn't answer right away.

JL waited, quietly. No edge, no teasing. Just... watching him.

Han studied him, eyes scanning for cracks that weren't there. Nothing. JL's face was unreadable. Calm. Kind, even.

Not a flicker of recognition. Not a trace of the words Han wished he could take back.

I love you.

Han's jaw tightened. He nodded once, short, stiff, and turned away like the conversation hadn't dug straight into his ribs.

Behind him, JL stepped quietly into the room and closed the door without a sound.

Han didn't move at first. Just stood there in the hallway, expression blank, hands still in his pockets.