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Ryujin swore she was over it.She had moved on.At least, that’s what she told herself every time she scrolled past Yeji’s Instagram posts without liking them. Because liking them would mean something, and she wasn’t about to give Yeji that satisfaction.But then Yeji had to go and post that picture.The kind that made Ryujin stop mid-scroll, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek as she glared at her phone. Yeji was leaning against a balcony railing, the Seoul skyline behind her bathed in golden sunset light. Her hair was tousled like she’d just rolled out of bed—like someone had run their fingers through it. And she was wearing Ryujin’s hoodie.The caption?“Comfy, but missing something.”Ryujin almost threw her phone across the room.Oh, so that’s how we’re playing?She was not about to let Yeji win whatever this was. She opened her camera roll, scrolled past a few safe options, then stopped. A smirk curled on her lips.Five minutes later, her own post was up—her in an oversized button-up, just barely off her shoulder, hair damp like she’d just stepped out of the shower. Low lighting, slightly smudged eyeliner, lips parted just enough.Caption?“Found it.”She tossed her phone onto the couch and crossed her arms, waiting. It didn’t take long. A notification popped up.@yeji_official liked your photo.Ryujin smirked.Then, another one.@yeji_official commented: ‘Come here.’And that was when Ryujin knew—this war was far from over.
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Ryujin stared at the comment.“Come here.”Two words. Simple. Direct. And yet, her pulse spiked.She should ignore it. Leave Yeji on read the way she deserved. But her fingers twitched, her pride battling with something far more dangerous—want.Before she could overthink it, another notification popped up.@yeji_official liked your comment.Comment?Ryujin frowned and scrolled down—only to realize she had, in fact, replied.“Say please.”She sucked in a breath. When the hell did she type that? Was muscle memory betraying her now?Yeji’s response came almost instantly.“You never made me.”Ryujin clenched her jaw. Oh, this— this was exactly why she hated Yeji. Because Yeji knew how to get under her skin, how to play her like a game she’d mastered.And the worst part? Ryujin let her.—An hour later, Ryujin was not thinking about Yeji’s comment. Nope. Not even a little.She was lying to herself.Because here she was, standing outside Yeji’s apartment complex, hands in her pockets like an idiot.The door unlocked before she could even knock.Yeji was leaning against the doorway, one brow raised, arms crossed. She was still in that stupid hoodie, still wearing that smirk that made Ryujin want to both kiss and ruin her.“You’re predictable,” Yeji mused.Ryujin scoffed. “And you’re cocky.”Yeji stepped closer, and Ryujin refused to step back. Their chests almost brushed. The air between them hummed.“I should make you beg,” Ryujin muttered.Yeji’s smirk widened. “You won’t.”And god help her—she wouldn’t.Ryujin grabbed Yeji by the hoodie strings and pulled her in, lips crashing together in something desperate, heated, inevitable.Because maybe they weren’t over it.Maybe they never had been.