"Be more careful," he muttered under his breath. "You're important, Jiwon."
My heart skipped.
But before I could fully process those words, Sunghoon spun around, sharp and purposeful. "Where's the first aid kit?" he snapped, his voice louder now—urgent, commanding.
The room fell into a hush.
Jay—still lounging halfway in the salon chair with his signature messy charm—blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Uh… I think the stylists keep one in the bottom drawer over there?"
Sunghoon didn't hesitate. He strode across the room, yanked the drawer open, and returned with the kit in hand like he'd done this a hundred times before.
"Sunghoon—seriously, I'm fine," I tried, reaching for it. "It's not even that bad—"
He didn't even look at me. "Stop talking for once and let me see it," he said, pulling out the ointment.
I sighed, flustered. "You're overreacting."
"And you're underreacting," he shot back, voice tight as he gently took my hand again. "Why are you always like this? Acting like you don't matter."
There was a tremor in his voice. Barely there, but I felt it. And it made something in my chest twist.
I stayed quiet. Not because I had no words—but because my voice might betray me if I tried.
Sunghoon's fingers moved gently as he dabbed ointment onto the reddening skin on my wrist. His touch was deliberate, careful—like he was afraid I might shatter.
He didn't meet my eyes. His jaw tensed, his brows drawn low like he was holding something back.
"Hyung…?" Jay's voice cut in, soft but confused. "Are you okay?"
Sunghoon glanced up, briefly. "I'm fine."
Jay squinted. "You're kinda acting like she's dying or something. It's just a small burn, right?"
He wasn't being rude—just honest. In Jay's eyes, I was staff. Makeup. Someone helpful, but replaceable. Not someone worth panic. Not someone who could crack through Sunghoon's rigid calm.
Sunghoon said nothing. He kept wrapping the bandage slowly, almost too slowly.
Jay looked between us. "Since when do you notice stuff like that, hyung?" he asked, only half-joking. "You won't even let the stylists touch your collar sometimes."
I bit my lip and looked away, my chest pounding.
Because I didn't know what to say.
Because I couldn't say what I wanted.
Because whatever this was—it wasn't supposed to exist.
Then Sunghoon spoke, quietly. "She's different."
Silence.
Jay stilled. His smile faded slightly, his brows knitting together. He didn't say anything, but his eyes lingered on us a little too long.
My wrist was wrapped in clean gauze now, but I didn't feel healed.
If anything, it felt like something had cracked wide open.
Sunghoon's hands were still on mine, gentle and warm, when the door swung open.
"Hey, have you guys seen—"
Junguwon's voice broke the stillness, casual and calm as always. The leader of LoVersX had that natural charisma, the kind that filled a room even when he wasn't trying. Tall, grounded, always effortlessly composed.
But the moment he stepped in, the atmosphere shifted.
I flinched.
Without thinking, I pulled my hand from Sunghoon's grasp. Too quickly. Too obviously.
Sunghoon's fingers hovered in the air for a second longer, like he hadn't expected me to let go. His expression barely changed, but something about his posture sagged. Like I'd taken something away.
"Jiwon?" Junguwon asked, eyes moving over the scene. "What happened? You okay?"
"I'm fine," I said quickly, tucking my injured hand behind my back like it didn't matter. Like he didn't matter.
Jay still looked like he was trying to make sense of it all. His gaze bounced between me and Sunghoon, piecing together something he wasn't meant to see.
"Sunghoon was just overreacting," I added with a light laugh, trying to soften everything. "It's just a small burn."
But Sunghoon didn't laugh.
Didn't move.
Didn't say a word.
He just stood there, his eyes still fixed on the space where our hands had been moments before.
Like he was trying to hold on to something already gone.
I hated it—that flicker of hurt in his eyes before he turned away, brushing past Junguwon like none of it mattered.
But it did.
It always had.