𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙨 | 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙜𝙮𝙪

chapter twenty three

̥✩⁺˚
nam-gyu pov

the rain had eased by the time we left the food stand, but the pavement still gleamed under the lamps, a mirror of the city's blurred lights. she walked a little ahead of me, her bag pressed tight against her side, and i kept my hands shoved deep into my pockets, like maybe i could hide the tremor still in them.

i'd told myself a hundred ways she wouldn't come. that if she did, it would be to tell me to stay the hell away. but she had come. she'd listened to me, even when her eyes cut sharper than any blade. and then, she held me.

it felt like i'd been starving and someone finally set food down in front of me. messy, reckless, undeserved, still, i couldn't let go.

"stop staring at me like that," yeo-na muttered suddenly, her voice soft but sharp at the edges, like she knew exactly what i was doing without even turning her head.

i smirked faintly, though my chest still felt raw. "can't help it."

she shot me a look over her shoulder, and for a second i thought she'd snap back. instead, her pace slowed until i could walk beside her. the silence between us wasn't heavy anymore, it stretched, fragile but warm, stitched with the sound of distant traffic and the damp air between us.

we found a bench under the awning of some closed shop, its faded sign buzzing with a flickering light. she sat first, crossing her arms against the chill, and i dropped beside her, the wood damp beneath us. for a while, neither of us spoke. the rain dripped steady from the awning's edge, a rhythm that almost calmed the ache in my chest.

i glanced at her, at the way her hair clung in damp strands, the crease between her brows that never seemed to leave, even when she was quiet.

"yeo-na," i started, my voice low. she turned slightly, cautious, like she already sensed where this was headed. my hands sank into my pockets, nails biting into my palms. "that night in the club... your friend seo-yeon said something about jun-seo working with your father. what did he do?"

her eyes hardened instantly. for a second, i thought she'd shut me down, snap and walk away.

"you don't—" i swallowed, forcing it out. "you don't have to answer, if you don't want to."

she hesitated, then exhaled, voice clipped. "he worked behind my back with my father. he lied. betrayed me. because of them, my exhibition failed." the sigh that followed was heavy, edged with anger she was still carrying.

"he betrayed you?" i muttered, the words rough.
"fuck. i should've hit him harder when i had the chance."

her head snapped toward me. "what?"

she didn't know.

"in the games," i said slowly, watching her eyes. " in the bathroom. he told me to leave you alone. i confronted him, hit a nerve. he swung first, but i punched back harder."