Chapter 9
Chapter 9
“Kwon Beomjin. If you don’t know how to write it, I can teach you.”
The sudden voice belonged to Seungwoon. Junyoung turned her head, unable to suppress a dry chuckle. He had approached quietly and was now waving at Beomjin.
But Beomjin didn’t look back. The hallway swallowed his figure, leaving only silence in his wake. Seungwoon muttered awkwardly.
“Well, I guess I wouldn’t have believed me either.”
Junyoung sighed briefly. After a pause, Seungwoon cautiously asked her a question.
“Have you ever written an apology letter before?”
“No.”
“Me neither. I have no idea how to start.”
Seungwoon tapped his pen lightly against his lips, sighing as he furrowed his brow. Junyoung glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His usually smooth forehead was creased with worry.
The fact that he was writing an apology letter at all was ultimately her fault. Not that she had asked for his help—it wasn’t entirely fair. Lowering her gaze, Junyoung murmured softly.
“I had no intention of defying the teacher. The mere misunderstanding that I might harbor such feelings toward a teacher I deeply respect is painful for me. However, I fully acknowledge my mistake. If the teacher, with the generous heart of an adult, could give me another chance, I will live with a proper mindset as a student. I will strive to become someone the teacher can take pride in.”
The words flowed effortlessly from her lips, leaving Seungwoon staring at her in disbelief. His mouth hung open slightly as he stammered.
“...You’ve seriously never written one before?”
“Write it like that. It won’t sound sarcastic if it’s coming from you.”
She turned to leave, but Seungwoon’s voice stopped her.
“Junyoung.”
Standing in her path, he gave her no room to dodge as he pressed on.
“Have I... done something wrong to you?”
One of the eyes she could feel on her back was surely Hye Soo’s. But Junyoung didn’t need to think about that to feel her mood sour.
Seungwoon’s bright and kind face was now tinged with concern and hesitance. He seemed determined to apologize for any mistake he might have made, as if that would resolve everything.
As if every discomfort could be so easily brushed away.
The simplicity and confidence born from never having been truly hurt—Junyoung found it enviable and beautiful, yet it grated on her, like swallowing gritty sand. Her lips tightened.
“No.”
“Then why—”
“Even if you’ve done nothing wrong, there’s bound to be at least one person who finds you uncomfortable.”
When he looked at her, everything she tried to ignore surged to the surface: her faded shirt, the frayed cuffs of her sleeves, the hair she had washed in the sink that morning, the possibility of sweat or dust lingering on her.
Na Seungwoon could make her feel small without lifting a finger.
And yet, like an addict unable to resist their fix, she couldn’t stop looking at him.
Leaving Seungwoon frozen in place, as rigid as a statue, Junyoung walked away.
The kids peeking from the doorway scattered in a hurry. Only Hye Soo, leaning casually against the wall with her arms crossed, greeted her with a smiling face.
Covering her mouth as if whispering a secret, Hye Soo smirked and asked, “What’s going on with you and Kwon Beomjin?”
It all happened in an instant. She couldn’t even process what was happening. Suddenly, she was flat on her back on the bed, a large hand gripping her neck.
The pressure was overwhelming, and she couldn’t even think of resisting. Panic and the fear of suffocation gripped her until, just as quickly, the hand released her. Junyoung rolled over, coughing violently, as the same hand now gripped her shoulder and shook her.
“Yoon Junyoung, are you okay?”
“You... cough... What the hell are you doing, you psycho?!”
She had only been choked for a moment, but her voice came out raspy, her throat still constricted. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. Beomjin’s panicked voice reached her ears as he hovered over her.
“You snuck in without a sound—I thought you were some creep. Why’d you do something so out of character and freak me out?”
“And when you’re freaked out, you strangle people? I almost died!”
Too stunned to even push him away, Junyoung clutched her neck, glaring at him. Her hoarse voice must have gotten to him because Beomjin sighed and muttered.
“Sorry. Are you okay?”
“Get me some water.”
She didn’t even finish her sentence before Beomjin bolted down the stairs. Half sitting up, Junyoung yelled after him with her raspy voice.
“Turn on the lights when you go!”
He never listens.
The house lit up shortly after, and Junyoung flopped back onto the bed. Her neck still felt raw. Taking a few deep breaths, she saw Beomjin return as fast as he’d left, holding a cup of water.
When she glared at him, his sharp eyes softened slightly, looking almost sheepish. The sight made her think of the fierce look he’d given Math earlier. Despite herself, she nearly laughed but bit her lip to keep her expression steady as she snatched the cup.
“I was worried you’d fall down the stairs, but I guess the real danger is you choking me to death instead.”
“Sorry. But don’t scare me like that again.”
His brows furrowed as if her raspy voice bothered him, and his tone turned serious. Junyoung’s eyebrows shot up.
“You choke me, but I’m the one who’s not allowed to play a little prank? That’s rich!”
“I’m different from you.”
“Oh yeah? How are you different?”
He snapped back instinctively, but the regret was immediate. Rubbing his chin awkwardly, he avoided her gaze.
“Uh... better reflexes?”
Without thinking, Junyoung kicked his side. A dull thud sounded, but it felt like hitting a stone, and she winced, clutching her foot.
Grinding her teeth, she watched him cough lightly and scratch the back of his head. His large hands—capable of covering her face entirely—only reignited her frustration.
After taking a sip of water, Junyoung asked flatly, “So, what was that earlier?”
“What?”
“The basketball.”
Beomjin froze for a moment, his hand mid-motion as it scratched his nape. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Bad sleeping habits.”
Yeah, sure. Worst liar ever.
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