#maari

Frightened, she took long strides to peer into the alley. At first, she thought it was just another drunk person leaving through the club's emergency exit when she saw someone stumbling. But when a groan of pain reached her ears, she felt a jolt of recognition. When the person lifted their head, hand clutching their ribs, she realized exactly who it was.

“Haechan?” she called out, her voice fragile from shock and surprise at seeing him there. He searched for her with his eyes, and upon finding her, attempted a smile, but it transformed into a grimace of pain. It was then that she noticed a cut on his lower lip.

She ran to him, eyes wide, and realized, even in the dim light, that it wasn't just his lip that was injured. He had a gash on his right eyebrow that was bleeding, and his eye was extremely red. She suspected he had a rib injury, given how he held his side.

"What happened?" she asked, visibly worried. "Who did you get into trouble with this time?”

He managed a soft laugh and leaned against the wall, drawing her attention to his torso. The black leather jacket and dark t-shirt obscured any injuries to his ribs, but it wasn’t hard to guess.

"You talk as if I'm famous," he tried to maintain a steady voice, masking the pain.

She raised an eyebrow, studying his face. Beyond the bruises, the smudged black eyeliner matched the dangerous look and aura he projected. In fact, he was famous. Every month, he'd appear with a new bruise on his face in the university hallways, sparking gossip about what had happened. From fighting with San, cheating in a race against Bangchan, to flirting with Jeno's sister—his own best friend—and getting punched on campus, he had quite the reputation.

“Modesty doesn't suit you," she replied, causing him to tilt his head, eyes locked on hers.

"And you know me?" he asked, now intrigued.

She laughed, placing her hands on her hips. She should have been offended, but why would he know her? She was just an ordinary student at the university, without stellar grades or anything to stand out. She worked as a barista on weekends to earn some money, and although she was roommates with Karina and Giselle, who were well-known among students, she was just another introvert. A mere mortal.

"You're the ACE," she shrugged. "Baseball, basketball, hockey—there's not a sport you don’t know. You dye your hair every six months to match the latest college fashion trend you start. You race your black Bugatti in that leather jacket every two weeks, and take money from kids who dare to compete with you."

He stared at her, speechless and shocked.

Why didn’t he remember her at all? Why had he never noticed her before? Did they share any classes?

"Oh, and I forgot, you're a womanizer," she added with a wry smile. "Is that enough for you?"

Rolling her eyes, she started to leave and return to work.

"Good job, cutie," he said, pushing himself away from the wall, but he couldn’t stand on his own, so he ended up leaning a hand on her shoulder.

Y/N was about to move away, but when she noticed his hand was red and cut, with blood on his fingers, she helped him stand, resting her hands on his arms. Haechan looked worse than he let on.

"Where's your car?" she asked seriously.

He looked at her as if he hadn’t heard, as if she’d said something absurd. "What?" Although his voice was weak, that was all he managed.

"Where's your car?" she repeated, more firmly.

Haechan glanced at the end of the alley where his Bugatti was parked. She saw the trash cans knocked over; he had crawled and clung to whatever he could to get there.

Y/N sighed deeply, looking up at the dark sky. This wasn’t how she planned to end her shift that Saturday.

"Whoa, what are you—" Haechan began as Y/N started patting his thigh, specifically his jeans pocket.

"Don’t even think about it," she interrupted, searching for the keys in his pants pocket. As she suspected, she found them. She made him rest his arm on her shoulder while she pressed the button to unlock the car doors.

His loud, breathless laugh caught her off guard.

"Have you ever driven a car like that before?" he asked, and she didn’t like his smug tone.

"I’ve had a driver’s license since I was 18," she replied, unimpressed.

Haechan said nothing, but before she helped him to the car, she caught a glint of amusement in his eyes. He was mocking her, and she was still trying to help him.

She led him to the passenger side but paused when she realized the door didn’t have a conventional handle. Of course, nothing about that car was conventional, and she certainly had never touched a car worth more than double her college scholarship.

Haechan noticed her confusion and chuckled softly, as much as the pain allowed.

"You open it from the side and pull it up," he explained, nodding toward the door. Y/N nodded silently and did so, stifling her gasp of surprise and admiration as the door swung upward, like a scene from a Fast and Furious movie.

Y/N felt adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart pounding and hands sweating. This wasn’t how she expected her night to unfold, but she certainly wouldn’t complain about the chance to drive a car like that, even if the circumstances weren’t what she once dreamed of.

There was something thrilling about driving that car with him beside her. She wasn’t a car aficionado, but guys like Haechan showing off in a Bugatti and racing at dawn made everyone aware of who he was and what kind of car he had.

Haechan leaned heavily on her, his body trembling slightly from the effort to stay upright.

"Careful," she murmured, helping him into the passenger seat. He winced as he settled in, the pain etched across his face despite his attempt to mask it with a cocky grin.

"Are you sure you know how to drive?" he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism and genuine curiosity.

Once she was in the driver’s seat, getting a full view of the car’s interior, a smile escaped her lips. She shot him a sidelong glance while he waited for an answer.

"I might surprise you," she replied, determination lacing her words. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

The car roared to life with a deep growl, the engine vibrating beneath her hands. It was a beast of a machine, and she felt its power thrumming through her fingers. Five seconds behind the wheel and she understood his obsession with that car.

Haechan watched her, a mix of admiration and amusement playing on his features.

"Just don’t crash it," he teased, though there was underlying trust in his words.

With a deep breath, Y/N shifted the car into gear, the Bugatti gliding smoothly out of the alley onto the main road. She was cautious with the accelerator since the car responded to the slightest touch with more force than she was used to. She didn’t want the police to pull her over or receive a speeding ticket—not that Haechan was worried about either.

She didn’t need him to tell her where he lived; everyone knew he resided in a penthouse in the city center. For a moment, they were silent. The only sounds were the engine's purr and the occasional hiss of tires against the pavement, but the quiet between them was comfortable.

"You know," Haechan began softly, "you're not like the others. Most people would have just walked away."

"I guess I just couldn’t leave you there. Plus, I wanted to see if the rumors were true," she replied before she could stop herself, focusing on the road ahead.

He chuckled, the sound rich and genuine. "And?"

She hesitated. Everyone knew Haechan was famous, but she didn’t want to seem like she gossiped about him in the hallways like everyone else.

"You really should stop getting into so much trouble," she said, glancing over.

Haechan smirked, the expression making him look mischievous, which he clearly was.

"I’ll consider it," he replied playfully. He settled into the seat, his head resting on the backrest. She thought he might fall asleep, but he just watched her attentively, making her self-conscious.

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, ignoring the voice in her head telling her to look at him.

After parking the Bugatti in Haechan's building's garage, Y/N turned off the engine and faced him, still seated, trying to manage the pain. She didn’t need to say anything because, the next moment, she was already out of the car, helping him, taking the keys as he looked at her, confused and hesitant for a moment.

"You need to take care of this," she said, gesturing to his injuries, her voice firm yet gentle. Haechan raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn't protest. He knew he needed help, even if his pride was reluctant to admit it.

With a nod, he agreed. Carefully, she supported him as they made their way to his apartment. Haechan quietly mentioned the apartment number as they entered the elevator, enveloped in silence.

Once they arrived on the floor, Haechan showed her the key, and she opened the door without hesitation. As she expected, the penthouse was spacious and luxurious, with a personal touch that felt too intimate for her to scrutinize closely. She didn't want to invade his privacy.

Without delay, she guided him to the couch. "Do you have a first aid kit?" she asked. He nodded, settling into the couch.

"Laundry room," was all he managed to say.

"Stay here," she instructed, though she knew he wasn't going anywhere. She quickly located the laundry room, which was larger than her dorm's bathroom, and returned to the living room.

Haechan watched her with a mix of curiosity and gratitude as she sat next to him, opening the kit.

"Have you done this before?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

She laughed softly. She had learned at the club that there was always some drunk who'd end up in trouble.

"More times than I'd like," she replied, grabbing a cotton ball and some antiseptic. "Now stay still and let me help."

With gentle precision, Y/N began to clean the cut on his eyebrow. Her touch was light but steady, making Haechan close his eyes with a grimace, though he didn't pull away. When she finished, placing a bandage on his eyebrow with an almost imperceptible touch, he opened his eyes, realizing how close she was. The corners of his mouth threatened to curve into a smile as he saw her brow furrowed in concentration mixed with concern.

"You really didn't have to do that," he murmured, gratitude evident in his voice. She shook her head as she discarded the dirty cotton ball and grabbed another to clean the cut on his lip.

"I couldn't leave you lying in an alley," she retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze. She'd never realized how intense his eyes were, perhaps because she'd never seen them so close. "Besides, I couldn't pass up the chance to drive your car."

He chuckled softly, thinking how he never let anyone drive his Bugatti.

"Well, I'm glad I provided some excitement." She smiled a little shyly as he watched her intently.

Y/N leaned in to clean the cut on his lip, resting her free hand on his chin to steady it. She had to ignore her racing heart and the sensation in her stomach—oh no, butterflies were too much. She exhaled through her nose, but Haechan's unwavering gaze didn't help calm her.

After cleaning, Y/N stepped back momentarily and looked at his torso.

"I'm going to need you to take it off," she said, referring to his jacket.

"Oh, that fast? You're not even going to buy me a drink?" He feigned an offended expression, and she felt her cheeks warm.

If she knew him well, she'd say this was the second time that night he was trying to flirt with her.

"Don't start," she warned, wanting to hide her blush.

She rose from the couch to help him remove his jacket, but what she didn't expect—and what made her jaw drop—was when he tore off his black t-shirt, revealing his bare torso. She shook her head to clear her thoughts about his abdomen. The privileged view of his bruises, that's all.

She examined his ribs, pursing her lips at the forming bruise.

"That looks bad," she commented, worried.

"I've had worse," Haechan replied with a shrug, though the pain on his face told another story.

Y/N sighed and continued her task. He had a small cut on his right side. She grabbed another cotton ball and knelt in front of him to clean it. When the cotton touched his skin, Haechan quickly placed his hand on Y/N's wrist, making her pause. The touch, though unexpected, was gentle, and she felt a tingle under his fingers.

He took a deep breath, trying not to wince at the burning wound, and she looked at him with concern and sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and he just shook his head.

Y/N cleaned the wound more delicately, not wanting to hurt him. She sighed, grabbing a bandage to stabilize the area.

"You need to take better care of yourself," she warned. He nodded, sincerity in his eyes.

"You do it better than I do."

The unexpected compliment made her pause, her eyes meeting his. There was something genuine in his words. With a shy smile, she finished bandaging his ribs, but the air between them seemed to shift. Given her position, she was physically close to him, practically embracing Haechan to wrap the bandage around him. The warmth he radiated was inviting, and his attentive gaze wasn't helping. She wasn't sure if she preferred him to speak or remain silent.

After she finished, Y/N stepped back, taking in a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, admiring her careful work. Haechan's eyes were fixed on hers, a newfound intensity in his gaze, leaving her disconcerted.

"It's done," she said, trying to maintain composure. "Now you need to rest."

Haechan nodded but didn't move. Instead, he continued to stare at her, as if seeing something for the first time. He'd spent the night observing her, trying to understand why he'd never noticed her before, how someone like her could go unnoticed. She seemed too sweet and innocent to have escaped his attention. There was a tension in the air, something unspoken between them that was strong and undeniable.

"You really are different," he murmured, his tone soft yet full of meaning. There was an internal struggle in his eyes, a conflict Y/N couldn't quite decipher. He'd always been confident and self-assured, one of the reasons people admired him, so seeing him like this was new for Y/N.

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words died on her lips as he leaned forward, his movements slow, giving her a chance to retreat. But Y/N didn't move. Her heart raced faster than ever, and she wondered how she hadn't had a heart attack yet, caught between surprise and anticipation, as if on the edge of a cliff. One she wouldn't hesitate to leap from because Haechan's eyes drew her into an immensity she'd never seen in anyone else.

When their lips finally met, it was like fire, igniting quickly. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as if they were both trying to understand what was happening, battling the whirlwind of emotions threatening to engulf them.

Y/N adjusted herself on her knees as he brought a hand to her face, exploring her lips with more intensity, just as his gaze had been intense throughout the night. It felt so good, as if they'd been waiting for this kiss their entire lives.

Haechan pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers, seeking confirmation that this had been the right move. Y/N kept her mouth slightly open, the stolen air feeling like it hurt her lungs, making it hard to recover when she was so close to his face. She could still feel the texture of his lips on hers, as if they were etched there.

The silence between them was heavy, charged with palpable tension, a mutual recognition that something had changed irreversibly. His palm was warm against her face, making her heart race, her body reacting to his proximity in ways she couldn't control. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come, trapped in the confusion of emotions swirling in her mind.

"Sorry, I just... felt like I needed to do this," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly, a lovely contrast to his usual confidence that left her speechless. There was a vulnerability in his voice, an admission of something he wasn't ready to name. At the same time, he didn't seem like the Haechan she saw in the university hallways, who spoke without a filter, who lived for adrenaline and the thrill of street racing. He seemed like an ordinary boy, just like her.

"It's okay," she finally replied, her voice soft, smiling shyly. "I wanted to, too." She admitted, and saw his smile grow, unguarded.

He cleared his throat, wincing at his ribs, and Y/N pulled back completely, almost lamenting the loss of contact.

"You need to rest." Her cheeks flushed once more, remembering his bare torso, her mind drifting to less-than-pure thoughts, and her lips yearning for another kiss. But she stood up, afraid, ready to head home and leave him alone, as he might prefer.

However, Haechan stopped her by gently grabbing her wrist once more. She looked at him in surprise, seeing the light in his eyes.

"Are you staying?" She hesitated at his eager request.

"Only if you want me to," she replied quietly, sighing. "I don't want to intrude."

"You won't!" he assured, still holding her wrist. The contact was too good to break. "Besides, I can't let you walk home alone."

She smiled, partly shy.

"Be careful, Haechan. It'll seem like you care about me," she joked.

He raised an eyebrow, making the bandage shift slightly.

"What if I do?"

Y/N felt her voice catch, words escaping her. She hadn't expected such sincerity.

"Does that scare you?" he asked, his hand gently caressing her skin.

She lowered her eyes to his hand on her wrist, the caress sending tremors through her legs, warming her heart in an unfamiliar way.

"No. I like it," she admitted, surprised at her steady voice. "You really should rest," she insisted, changing the subject as she stepped back, breaking the connection. Haechan nodded, rising from the couch, but not before giving her one last meaningful look.

"Thank you, Y/N."

Unexpectedly, he kissed the corner of her mouth before heading to the bedroom, leaving her in shock, her hand touching where he'd kissed in a mix of ecstasy and surprise. Watching his bare back disappear into the hallway's darkness, a soft smile spread across her lips.