Y/N's POV

I held my breath as I sped through the school gates on my motorbike, the engine's roaring a poor mask for the storm brewing in my chest. My heart sank the moment I spotted the throng of students gathered at the front of the school. Please, no. Not here. Not now.

Pulling off my helmet, I was instantly greeted by the unmistakable chatter of excitable voices. My pulse quickened as snippets of their conversation reached my ears.

“Oh my goodness, did you see his smile? He’s even more handsome without that mask!” one girl gushed, her tone dripping with adoration. The others echoed their agreement, their voices tinged with awe.

My fists curled instinctively as I moved towards the crowd. Each step felt heavier, weighed down by the undeniable truth of who they were talking about. Shoving my way to the front, I found myself staring at a familiar scene: the crowd surrounding a group of jocks, who were all fawning over him—Jeon Jungkook.

And there he was, standing at the centre of it all, smug and unmasked. His face, once partially hidden, was now on full display, exposing more of his identity, more of what he should have kept concealed. My frustration flared as his gaze locked onto mine, those contact lenses of his gleaming with mischief. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, daring me to react.

I didn’t care what the others were saying, didn’t even try to listen. Their laughter, their praise—it only served to stoke the fire of irritation burning within me. Without a second thought, I stormed into the centre of the crowd, grabbed him firmly by the wrist, and dragged him away. His laughter echoed behind us, a taunting melody that only fuelled my temper. He waved to his adoring fans like a conquering hero, basking in the attention he so clearly relished.

Desperation led me to the nearest secluded spot—a janitor’s closet. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do. I shoved him inside, the small space immediately becoming suffocating.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded through gritted teeth, my glare fixed on his infuriatingly amused face. My voice wavered, not from fear but from the overwhelming mix of emotions coursing through me. My eyes flickered, almost involuntarily, to his lips. Of course, he noticed.

His lips quirked into a self-satisfied smirk as he leaned slightly closer. “And without your mask!” I spat, jabbing a finger into his chest.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t even attempt to defend himself. Instead, that smirk of his deepened, a maddening blend of arrogance and charm. “Trying to win you back,” he said with a confidence that bordered on ridiculous, reaching for my hand.

I slapped it away, the sound sharp and final in the small space. “You’re an idiot,” I snapped, my voice low but furious. “That’s never going to happen, especially not if you get caught pulling stunts like this!”

His smile didn’t falter, not even for a moment. “So, you do care if I get caught,” he said, his tone teasing, his words a trap meant to trip me up.

I bit back a curse, hating how he always managed to twist things around. “Leave me the fuck alone,” I hissed, my gaze hard and unyielding as I forced myself to ignore the tension crackling in the air between us. Without waiting for a response, I turned and pushed past him, stepping out of the closet.

Just as I reached the door, I heard him groan softly, the sound sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine.

The hallways were alive with the buzz of students rushing to class. I slipped into the crowd, thankful that the chaos of the morning provided the perfect cover. But my relief was short-lived.

I glanced down at my timetable, and my heart sank all over again. My next class—of course it had to be English.

━━

As I stepped into the classroom, all eyes turned to me, and I felt my breath hitch. Forcing myself to stay composed, I walked to my seat, the weight of their curious stares pressing down on me. Among them, Taehyung and Yunjin’s gazes stood out, sharp and probing, as if they knew more than they let on. My heart sank further when I realised that Jungkook was conspicuously absent—at least for now, much to my relief.

“What is it?” I asked, attempting to sound nonchalant, though the tension in the room was palpable. Taehyung didn’t reply immediately; instead, his attention shifted to the door.

There he was—Jungkook. He strolled in casually, already engaging the teacher in conversation, completely at ease. Taehyung leaned in closer, his voice low but loaded with meaning.

“I heard someone pulled the new kid out of the crowd earlier. In front of everyone, no less,” he whispered, shielding his mouth as if the words were a secret meant only for me. His sharp eyes flicked to Jungkook, who had now turned to look directly at us, his expression unreadable.

My gaze followed instinctively, and sure enough, Jungkook’s dark eyes were fixed on Taehyung, as if issuing a silent challenge. I felt a jolt of irritation but managed to keep my voice steady. “I was just putting him in his place,” I muttered under my breath, though the words sounded more defensive than I intended.

Before Taehyung could respond, Jungkook’s voice cut through the low hum of the room.

“Angel, I need help with this page,” he said casually, his tone dripping with a calculated nonchalance.

The colour drained from my face as my widened eyes snapped to him. I could feel the burning stares of Taehyung and Yunjin at my side, their shock palpable.

“Yoona,” Jungkook corrected himself hastily, but the damage was done. The name—Angel—hung in the air like a heavy weight, suffocating and impossible to ignore.

My voice came out colder than I intended. “Do it yourself,” I snapped, turning back to my seatmates in a desperate bid to salvage the situation.

“It’s not what you think,” I said quickly, though the words rang hollow.

“Angel?” Yunjin repeated in a low, incredulous tone, her voice dripping with suspicion. “Then what am I supposed to think?”

I glared at her, but her question lingered in the air, unanswered.

“I just… knew him a few years back,” I said finally, my tone defensive as I tried to downplay the connection.

Taehyung let out a scoff, folding his arms as he regarded me with a raised brow. “Care to elaborate?”

“No,” I shot back, my voice firm, almost a warning.

“Why—” Taehyung started, but I cut him off before he could finish.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said curtly, my tone brooking no argument.

Much to my relief, they both fell silent, though their scepticism was written all over their faces.

“Yoona,” Jungkook called again, his tone impossibly sweet now, laced with just enough mockery to set my teeth on edge. “Can I have some help?”

I bit back a curse, knowing I couldn’t ignore him without drawing more attention. Begrudgingly, I stood and made my way over to his desk, acutely aware of Taehyung and Yunjin’s unrelenting stares boring into my back.

“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered under my breath, trying not to meet Jungkook’s smug gaze.

━━

This day felt endless, each passing minute dragging on with agonising slowness. I could almost hear the clock mocking me as its hands crawled their way forward. The break couldn't come soon enough.

I was in the one class mercifully free of Jungkook’s presence, sitting beside Jisoo, though my focus was entirely on the clock. My head rested on the desk as I stared at the large hand making its unhurried journey around the dial, my patience thinning with each tick.

"Yoona!" Jisoo whined, snapping me from my trance. I turned my head lazily to face her, offering a noncommittal hum to show I was listening.

"When are you going to start studying?" she asked, pointing at my unopened stationery with a slight frown.

I sighed, a heavy exhale that felt like it carried the weight of my day. "Sorry, I'm just… a bit out of it today."

Her concerned gaze lingered on my face, searching for the truth beneath my words.

"I spoke to Yunjin and Taehyung," she said suddenly, and my stomach twisted. The casual tone in her voice didn’t fool me. Still, I forced a neutral response.

"Hm?"

"Don’t try to hide it from me, Yoona. How do you know Jeongguk?" she pressed, her voice unwavering.

I bit down hard on my lip, willing myself to stay composed. I couldn’t risk saying more than I should. "I’ve told you before—I’ve got a bad past. A past I don’t want to talk about."

I straightened in my seat, meeting her gaze head-on. Her expression softened as sincerity replaced her curiosity. For that, I was grateful.

"Alright," she said gently. "I’m sorry for bringing it up. But if you ever need to talk, you know I’m here."

She placed her hand over mine, her warmth offering a moment of solace.

Before I could respond, the bell rang, jolting me back into the present. I sprang up from my desk, eager to escape before a certain someone could catch me. Weaving through the halls, I turned the corner toward the cafeteria, only to feel an arm wrap tightly around my waist.

I barely had time to react as I was pulled into an empty classroom. My back hit a desk, and I found myself face-to-face with Jungkook, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

“What—” I started, but he cut me off, his tone low and accusing.

"What’s your relationship with Taehyung?"

The question caught me off guard, and I scoffed, pushing him away just enough to create some distance. His audacity was almost amusing, and I decided to toy with him.

"Why? Jealous?" I asked, a sly smile tugging at my lips.

He chuckled, but it was devoid of humour. Within seconds, his expression darkened, his scowl replacing the smirk. "Don’t play with me, Angel," he growled, his figure towering over mine. The intensity in his gaze made my breath hitch.

I sighed, abruptly breaking the tension. "Fine! He’s a good friend, that’s all." My voice was firm, truthful, yet he didn’t budge.

"You’d better not be lying," he warned, his tone cold and commanding.

Before I could respond, he trapped me against the desk again, his proximity leaving no room to move. My resolve wavered as his piercing gaze locked with mine. We both knew exactly what we wanted, yet I looked away, refusing to cross that line.

"No," I said softly, shaking my head, my voice barely above a whisper.

His hand reached up, tilting my chin so I was forced to meet his eyes. "Yes," he murmured confidently, the corners of his mouth quirking into a maddening smirk.

And then, he leaned closer.

I hesitated, my heart racing, before finally giving in. Just this once. I leaned forward and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss to his cheek before darting out of the classroom.

The hallway was blessedly crowded, providing the perfect cover. I merged into the sea of students, ignoring the sound of his footsteps trailing behind me. I hurried to the cafeteria, grabbed my lunch, and headed to my usual table.

Hyunjin greeted me with an easy smile, the only one who wasn’t eyeing me with suspicion. It seemed words had already spread through the group.

"So, who’s everyone’s date for prom?" Kazuha asked in a voice far too casual to be genuine. Her eyes flicked to me, betraying her true intentions.

"No one," I replied flatly, ignoring the way she elbowed Taehyung under the table with a mischievous grin.

"I hope someone asks me out," Kazuha continued, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. "That would be so romantic."

I narrowed my eyes at her, sensing she was up to something. What was she trying to pull?

The bell rang, and I seized the opportunity to leave, rushing to my next class. But once again, I found myself yanked into a classroom.

Groaning, I shut my eyes in frustration. "Look, Jeonggu—"

I stopped mid-sentence, my words faltering as I came face-to-face with Mina. Her garish red hair and neon pink top were impossible to miss.

"Mina," I corrected myself with a sigh, towering over her easily. Not that it seemed to intimidate her.

"You thought I was Jeongguk?" she asked, her tone mocking as she scanned my expression. When I didn’t respond, she burst into laughter, the high-pitched sound grating on my nerves.

"Don’t be so full of yourself, Choi," she sneered. Then, her tone turned sharp, her brightly manicured finger pointing accusingly at me. "If you hadn’t heard, he’s mine. And he will be my date to prom, so you’d better stay away from him."

I slapped her hand away, my patience wearing thin. "Have him. I don’t want anything to do with him, but good luck keeping him away from me," I snapped, stepping past her.

"Watch your tone, you bitch!" she screeched, collapsing to the floor theatrically as though I’d struck her.

I heard the hurried footsteps of a teacher approaching and acted quickly, grabbing Mina by the arm and hauling her upright. My grip was firm, nails digging into her skin as I leaned close to her ear.

"Make another sound, and I’ll make sure you regret it," I whispered icily.

Her mouth snapped shut, and I stormed out of the room without so much as a glance back.

In class, I mumbled an apology for being late and slid into my seat next to Jisoo.

"What happened?" she whispered, her curiosity evident.

"Mina tried to mess with me again," I muttered, and she barely suppressed a laugh.

"And? Did you put her in her place?"

I smirked, nodding as we high-fived in silent triumph.

"Girls, quiet!"

"Sorry, Ma’am," we chimed in unison, grinning at each other like school kids caught in mischief.

━━

The day had been ordinary enough until hockey training. It was one of the rare occasions we got to practice on home turf, and the excitement thrummed through me like a heartbeat. The best part? Jungkook wouldn’t be anywhere in sight. For once, peace felt tangible.

Dressed in my sports gear, I stepped out onto the field, feeling the sun’s warmth prickle against my skin. Of course, it had to be sunny today—mocking me, as if daring me to let my guard down. Grabbing a hockey stick from the shed, I jogged over to join my team, the energy of the moment already building.

“The rundown today is straight into gameplay with just a ten-minute break,” announced the coach. Predictably, groans echoed around me.

Training was always a gruelling ninety minutes, and ten minutes of rest felt laughable. Still, the challenge was thrilling in its own way.

As we got into position, my eyes flickered to the side. The rugby team was lingering on the adjacent field, as they often did, pushing their session overtime. I wouldn’t have paid them much attention if it weren’t for the way they had gathered in a circle, creating a small commotion.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I watched until the group shifted just enough for me to catch a glimpse. My stomach dropped.

No. Way.

That infuriatingly arrogant smirk greeted me from across the field. Jungkook. He raised a hand in a mock wave, his eyes glinting with mischief. My jaw clenched as the whistle blew, dragging my focus back to the game.

The ball was in play, and I wasted no time stealing it from the opposing team. My movements were sharp, precise—cutting through the field with practiced ease. I passed to my teammates, circling back for the strike. The ball sailed into the goal with a satisfying thud.

“Well done, Yoona! Keep it up!” the coach called out, and I nodded, acknowledging the praise before heading back to my position.

But my attention was snagged again—this time by the rugby team. They had moved to the bleachers and were now watching our game, their cheers and whistles echoing across the field. My jaw tightened. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who had orchestrated this.

I shook my head, choosing to ignore them. Game after game, I kept my focus, scoring repeatedly. The adrenaline coursing through me was enough to drown out the noise—for now.

When the bell signalled halftime, a collective sigh of relief swept through the team. As I stepped off the field for water, the coach placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You can take an extra ten, Choi. You’ve earned it,” he said with a wink, his tone light and teasing. I laughed, thanking him before heading toward the water fountains.

Leaning down to drink, I was startled by a loud crash nearby. My head snapped in the direction of the noise—the sports shed.

What now?

Quietly, I approached the shed and peeked through the door. Inside, someone was rummaging through the equipment, knocking over crates and creating chaos.

“Hey! What are you doing—” My voice caught in my throat as a pair of piercing eyes locked onto mine from the dimly lit corner.

Jungkook.

He sighed dramatically, kicking over another crate before strolling toward me, as if the destruction he’d caused was of no consequence.

“You’re such a stickler for justice,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “You know that, right?”

My blood boiled, torn between the urge to slap him and… something far less appropriate.

Scoffing, I pushed past him and began picking up the mess he’d made. He leaned against a shelf, watching me with a smirk that only fuelled my irritation.

“Stop standing there like a useless idiot and help,” I snapped, not bothering to look at him.

Instead of complying, he let out another exaggerated sigh and hopped down, his footsteps purposeful. He stopped just behind me, his voice dropping to a whisper that brushed against my ear.

“I was only doing it to get your attention.”

His breath warmed the side of my neck, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. His scent—something dark and intoxicating—wrapped around me, clouding my thoughts.

I spun around abruptly, my heart pounding. “Well, congratulations. Mission accomplished,” I said sarcastically, leaning back against the wall in exasperation.

A mistake.

He seized the opportunity, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with intent. Silence stretched between us, thick and charged. I could feel my resolve crumbling, and before I could think better of it, I leaned in.

Our lips met with an urgency that startled even me. His hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. The world outside that shed ceased to exist—there was only the heat of his touch and the way our bodies seemed to fit together perfectly.

But then, reality crashed down on me.

This is wrong. So wrong.

I tore myself away, breathing heavily. His smug expression faded as he registered the fury on my face.

“Y/N—” he began, reaching out for me.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” I shouted, my voice breaking with emotion. It was an act—a façade I needed to maintain. If I stayed a moment longer, I knew I wouldn’t leave.

I stormed out of the shed, slamming the door behind me. He didn’t follow.

Pushing down the turmoil raging inside me, I headed back to the field. Feigning illness, I approached the coach. “Sorry, Coach. I’m not feeling well. I think I need to go home.”

He studied me for a moment before nodding. “Alright, Choi. Get some rest.”

As soon as I was out of sight, my posture straightened, the mask falling away. I slipped into a secluded corner of the school grounds, ensuring no one was nearby.

With a deep breath, I unfurled my wings, the black feathers glinting faintly in the sunlight. They stretched wide, carrying me into the sky.

As the wind rushed past me, the weight of the day began to lift. For now, I was free.

━━

Flying through the crisp evening air, I approached my apartment, the city lights shimmering below like a scattered constellation. The wind whipped against my face, sharp and unforgiving, but the sight of my window brought a welcome sense of relief. Hovering just outside, I reached for the left side, my fingers instinctively finding the small, concealed crack in the frame. Sliding my nails into the groove, I pried it open with practiced precision. The icy night receded as I slipped inside, the warmth of my sanctuary embracing me like an old friend.

I stood there for a moment, letting the contrast settle into my bones. The day had drained every ounce of energy from me, leaving behind an aching weariness that clung to my limbs. Slowly, I peeled off my school clothes, letting them fall into a careless heap on the floor. The cool air kissed my skin as I moved to my bed, seeking refuge beneath the thick, comforting weight of my blankets.

The softness of the covers cradled me, and my eyes fluttered shut almost instantly. Sleep teased me at the edges, a hazy in-between where thoughts blurred and reality felt distant. I drifted, my breathing steadying, only to be stirred by a sudden rush of cold air that crept into the room.

I shivered instinctively, the chill biting at my exposed skin. Before I could fully awaken, a warmth enveloped me—a body pressing close, strong arms wrapping around me in a protective cocoon. The contrast was startling, the icy draft melting into the heat of their embrace. The familiarity of it seeped into my consciousness, soothing me in a way that words never could.

I was too far gone, teetering on the brink of sleep, to turn and face them. Whoever it was, whatever this was, it didn’t feel alarming. It felt safe. Comforting.

And it felt so achingly lovely, like slipping into a dream you never wanted to end.

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