Triggering You | Moon Baek [Trigger] x Reader

When We Touch (part 2) 🔥

That's when it hit you. The scent. Faint at first—roses, then the familiar trace of cologne. The same scent that clung to the box you received. Your pulse quickened, the memory flashing vividly, the petals, the shine of bullets resting beneath them, the faint trace of perfume that haunted your apartment for days.

You tried to ignore it, but it was impossible. It was here, inside this car...inside his car.

Your breath grew shallow. Your fingers dug into your lap, nails pressing against your palm.

He noticed.

His head turned just enough, his gaze flickering from the road to you, eyes narrowing in that analytical way of his, the one that felt like he could see through your skin and into your thoughts. "What is it?" His voice cut through the hum of the car, low, rough, laced with genuine worry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

You forced a small chuckle, shaking your head too quickly. "Oh, n-no, I'm fine. Just...tired." He didn't buy it, obviously. You could tell by the way his fingers tightened slightly around the wheel, the muscles in his jaw flexing. His eyes lingered on you longer than they should have—searching, for a hidden answer in those sunken eyes of yours. "You sure?" He pressed, tone lower now, quieter, the kind that could coax out secrets without meaning to. You swallowed hard and nodded, fingers fidgeting with your phone case until you realised your hands were trembling. "Yeah," you whispered, eyes locked on the streak of red light from Lee Do's motorcycle. You didn't dare look at Moon Baek again, not when your thoughts were spiralling.

He glanced back toward the road, but the air inside the car shifted. Something in his posture changed, shoulders slightly tensed, his usual lazy charm replaced by a darker calm. His mood was changing, you could feel it, the quiet edge in him surfacing. You tried to steady your heartbeat, but the scent only grew stronger. You turned your head slightly, watching his profile illuminated by passing streetlights. He was beautiful in that ruined way—rugged jawline, the faint shadows under his eyes, lips pressed tight in thought. But as the lights gleamed across his face, something about him looked different.

You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe...maybe you didn't know who he really was. Moon Baek's eyes cut toward you again, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint leer. "Don't look so scared," he murmured, leaning in. "I told you before, didn't I? I'll protect you."

Something in his voice, slow and steady, almost too sure of it, made your stomach twist. Because for the first time, you weren't sure if he meant from the world or from himself.

Finally, the road narrowed into a crocked artery of the city—the neighbourhood looked deceased. Cracked pavement, dim streetlights flickering in slow heartbeats, and houses packed so tightly together it felt like the darkness itself was eavesdropping. Lee Do's motorcycle screeched to a stop infront of a run down house. Moon Baek slowed the car, one arm lazy on the wheel, as if we weren't chasing the truth through the most dangerous part of Seoul. You shifted in your seat, heart climbing up your throat. Every instinct screamed wrong place, wrong time.

But Moon Baek? He watched the house like it was a stage built for his own entertainment. There was no tension in his posture, but his eyes were alert, like a predator waiting for its prey.

"You know that car?" Moon Baek asked, nodding at a black van parked beside the house, it's windows tinted, it's engine idling, like whatever was inside was waiting for permission to crawl out. Lee Do didn't look away from the house. "Keep an eye on it." He said sharply, then he turned, just enough to glance at you. A brief flick of worry, possessive but protective. It lasted only a second, but it was enough for Moon Baek to notice.