Eun-ji stops trying.
She doesn't wait outside his lecture hall anymore. She doesn't text first. She doesn't slow down so he can catch up.
At lunch, she laughs with another classmate, a boy from her statistics group. It's nothing special. Just shared notes, a joke about a professor, his hand briefly touching her shoulder when he leans closer to see her phone.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Ji-ho watches from across the courtyard.
The sound of her laugh carries farther than it should. Or maybe his senses are sharper than they should be. He can hear her heartbeat even from here. Light. Fast. Alive.
Too alive.
His jaw tightens.
The memory of the fight flashes behind his eyes. The opponent's collar in his fist. The crack of bone. The scent of blood blooming in the air like iron and heat.
He had almost gone too far.
Not because the guy deserved it.
But because something inside him had already been unstable.
Hungry.
And that hunger hasn't quieted.
He clenches his hands until faint veins rise under his skin. He tells himself this is why he has to stay away. This is why distance is safer. This is protection.
Then he sees it.
After the boy leaves, after her laughter fades, Eun-ji turns slightly away from the crowd and wipes at her face.
A tear.
She inhales sharply and forces her shoulders straight.
And something in him cracks.
—
He catches her near the stairwell after class.
"Eun-ji."
She pauses but doesn't turn fully. "Yes?"
Not Ji-ho.
Not Pumpkin.
Just yes.
He grabs her wrist before he can stop himself.
She stiffens.
"Why are you pretending?" His voice is low, tight.
She pulls her hand free. "Pretending what?"
"That you're fine."
Her lips tremble for a second before she presses them together. "You told me not to overthink. So I stopped."
The words land heavier than he expects.
His eyes flick past her shoulder, toward the hallway where that boy disappeared earlier.
"You move on fast," he says before he can swallow it.
Silence.
Then her composure shatters.
Tears spill down quietly, not loud, not dramatic. Just hurt that has been waiting for permission.
"You don't get to push me away and then get jealous," she says, voice shaking.
He steps closer without thinking.
Too close.
Her scent wraps around him. Her heartbeat stutters, quick and fragile. He hears it. Feels it. The rhythm thumping under thin skin.
His control slips.
For half a second, his eyes darken. The world narrows to the pulse in her throat. His fingers tighten around her wrist again, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel.
Enough to remind himself how breakable she is.
He leans in.
Not to kiss.
Something more dangerous than that.
And then he freezes.
Horror flashes across his face. He shoves himself backward like she burned him.
She looks at him as if she doesn't recognize him anymore.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispers.
He can't answer.
Because the truth is ugly.
Because the truth is hunger.
Because the truth is that during that fight, it wasn't just anger in his veins.
It was the same thing he feels now.
She wipes her cheeks angrily.
"If you're protecting me…" Her voice cracks. "You're doing it wrong."
The words slice clean through him.
He wants to tell her.
I'm protecting you from me.
But he can't.
So he does the only cowardly thing he knows how to do.
He steps back.
Further.
And walks away.
This time it isn't cold.
It's tortured.
He doesn't look back.
Behind him, Eun-ji stands in the stairwell, crying quietly, realizing that distance hurts more than honesty ever could.
In his mind, one thought repeats like a curse.
If I stay… I'll ruin you.
And for the first time, he isn't sure which fate is worse.