Eun-ji's room is quiet except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan.
Her phone glows softly in the dark.
A drama episode pauses halfway through the screen, the characters frozen mid-confession. Normally she would already be crying or squealing at the romance.
Tonight she hasn't even noticed the scene.
She's lying on her stomach across the bed, chin resting on her arms, staring at the phone without really watching.
Her mind is somewhere else.
Specifically…
Six feet tall.
Annoyingly calm.
Emotionally confusing.
Kang Ji-ho.
She groans softly and flips onto her back.
"Ugh… pumpkin," she mutters to the ceiling.
Her heart squeezes a little.
The way he fixed her bag strap earlier.
The way he kept staring.
The way he looked away like he'd been caught doing something illegal.
And the jealousy.
That part she definitely noticed.
Her lips twitch faintly.
"Idiot."
Her phone buzzes suddenly.
A message from Seo-yeon.
She taps it open.
Seo-yeon:
So… how is the situationship disaster going today?
Eun-ji snorts.
Eun-ji:
You're very supportive.
Three dots appear immediately.
Seo-yeon:
Did he apologize yet?
Eun-ji stares at the message.
Her fingers hover over the keyboard.
Then she types slowly.
No.
Another pause.
Seo-yeon:
Is he still doing the sad mysterious vampire thing?
Eun-ji laughs softly at that.
"If only you knew," she murmurs.
She types back.
He's being weird.
And jealous.
There's a dramatic typing pause.
Then:
Seo-yeon:
JEALOUS???
SPILL.
Eun-ji hesitates.
She remembers the moment on the street. The tension in Ji-ho's jaw when the statistics guy touched her shoulder.
Her cheeks warm slightly.
It wasn't obvious, she types.
But I know him.
A reply arrives almost instantly.
Seo-yeon:
Girl.
That boy is down BAD.
Eun-ji rolls onto her side.
"He's down emotionally constipated," she mutters.
But the thought still makes her smile faintly.
The smile fades quickly though.
Because something else keeps bothering her.
Something she can't explain.
The way he looked earlier.
Not jealous.
Not angry.
Almost…
Afraid.
—
Across the city, Kang Ji-ho stands on the rooftop of an old building.
The wind moves quietly through the night.
City lights stretch endlessly below like scattered stars.
His hands rest against the cold concrete railing.
He stares at the skyline, but his mind isn't here.
It's somewhere far away.
Dark trees.
Thick jungle air.
The smell of earth and blood.
The night everything changed.
His fingers tighten slightly.
The memory is fragmented but vivid.
Pain.
Hunger.
The moment his body stopped feeling human.
He closes his eyes briefly.
Then another memory pushes forward.
Eun-ji.
Laughing earlier that afternoon.
The way she called him pumpkin like it was the most normal thing in the world.
The warmth in her voice.
It hurts.
Because warmth is dangerous.
He exhales slowly.
"I should stay away," he murmurs to himself.
The words sound weak even to him.
His eyes drift downward.
Far below, people move through the night streets.
He hears everything.
Footsteps.
Conversations.
Heartbeats.
His senses are sharper now than they used to be.
Too sharp.
His gaze suddenly catches movement across another rooftop.
Two buildings away.
Someone jumps down from a fire escape ladder.
Ji-ho's eyes narrow slightly.
For a brief second the world shifts.
His vision sharpens.
And his eyes glow faintly in the darkness.
Not bright.
Not dramatic.
Just a quiet unnatural shine.
The person across the rooftop doesn't notice.
But if Eun-ji were here…
She would definitely think something was wrong.
Ji-ho straightens slowly.
The glow fades.
His jaw tightens.
"You're losing control," he mutters.
He runs a hand through his hair and turns away from the edge.
But even as he walks toward the stairwell door…
One thought repeats in his mind.
Eun-ji.
Her laugh.
Her tears in the stairwell.
The way she looked at him tonight.
Concerned.
Soft.
Still caring.
His chest tightens painfully.
"Stay away," he whispers again.
But deep down he already knows the truth.
Distance doesn't work.
Not when every instinct inside him keeps pulling him back to her.
—
Meanwhile, in her room, Eun-ji finally turns off her phone.
The room falls quiet again.
She stares at the ceiling.
And whispers softly into the dark.
"Why do I feel like something's really wrong with you, Ji-ho…?"
For the first time, the thought doesn't feel like overthinking.
It feels like intuition.
And that feeling refuses to go away.