୨⎯ Competitive Inhibition ⎯୧
✎: non-idol!eunseok x fem!reader
featuring — riize (sohee, anton, sungchan, seunghan, wonbin, shotaro), Sion (Nct Wish), Karina (Aespa) & Yujin (LeSerafim).
content — college au, stem au, rivals to lovers, forced proximity, academic rivals, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional distress, university stress, drinking, miscommunication, idiots in denial, tension, banter, fluff, humor attempt.
warnings — strong language (swearing, insults), academic stress/anxiety, alcohol consumption, emotional distress (crying, guilt, yelling), minor hangover mention.
note — This is my 100 followers special!!! I took a whole month to write this, i hope u guys like it!!! Reblogs are appreciated!
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You blame Biochemistry I.
If that class didn't exist, you would have gone your entire university career blissfully unaware of Song Eunseok's existence. He would have stayed in his chemistry building, you would have stayed in your biology labs, and you both would have graduated with your perfect GPAs and your sanity intact.
Instead, here you are. Two years later. Biochem III. And apparently, the universe isn't done torturing you yet.
It all starts on a sunny Tuesday. You're walking to uni with your usual group of friends: Sohee, same major as you; Anton, a chem major; Yujin and Karina, both physics majors.
You take a deep breath through your nose. "Start of a fresh year and semester. Can you guys smell that?"
"What, the smell of despair that this part of uni always carries?" Yujin offers.
You throw an arm around her shoulders. "Well yes, but no, my dear friend. The smell of another year of success and thriving."
"You mean another year of you and Eunseok fighting over who gets better grades in biochem?" Sohee cuts in.
You scowl. "See, this would have been a perfect day if you didn't remind me of that."
"You guys are still going at it?" Karina asks. "It's your third year. Aren't you tired?"
You shrug. "I'll stop when he stops being an asshole."
Across the circle, Anton's eyes go wide. He starts making frantic gestures—jerking his head to the side, widening his eyes, the whole performance. You're too focused on your righteous indignation to register it.
The voice comes from behind you. Smooth. Infuriating. Familiar in a way that makes your eye twitch.
You turn. Of course. Song Eunseok stands there with his group—Sungchan, Seunghan, Wonbin, Shotaro and Sion. They must have been walking right behind you this whole time. Anton's signals suddenly make sense.
Eunseok presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. "That hurts deep, sweetheart. At least you could try and find a better insult, don't you think?"
"Fuck off, Song. Don't ruin my day this early."
He holds up his hands in surrender, but that insufferable smirk stays firmly in place. "Just because I'm nice, I'll go away this time." He takes a step backward, then pauses. "But don't miss me too much, okay?"
Sungchan grabs his arm and starts dragging him away before you can respond. Seunghan lingers just long enough to shoot your group an apologetic look before following.
The thing is—unfortunately for you—even though you have your own friend group, your circle and Eunseok's circle basically overlap. They all know each other. They're all friends, actually. Student council, shared classes, mutual acquaintances—somehow, you're all tangled up together.
Except for you and Eunseok. You two are the exception.
You watch them walk away, then round on your friends. "You see??? He always starts this shit."
Anton raises an eyebrow. "Well... to be fair, you did call him an asshole."
"I—well. It's what he is. And it's not my fault he likes to overhear other people's conversations."
Anton shakes his head, laughing.
Sohee checks his phone and his eyes go wide. "Shit. Y/N, we need to go. Molecular bio starts in five."
You're already moving. Yujin calls after you, "See you guys at lunch!"
You wave without looking back, and then you're through the doors of the biology building. Safe. For now.
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Your morning has been going great. Everything flowing smoothly back into the rhythm of classes. Molecular bio was fine, your professors seem decent, and you even managed to grab a good coffee on the way in.
But now? Now it's time for Biochemistry III.
You grab Sohee's arm and start pulling him toward the science building. "Let's go. I wanna get there so I can find a good seat."
"I'm going, I'm going," he grumbles, trailing behind you. "Jesus."
You both enter the classroom and it's still relatively empty. You claim a spot in the second row—close enough to see the professor clearly, far enough that you don't look like a teacher's pet. You and Sohee fall into an easy conversation, catching up about summer break, and you don't notice when the rest of the classroom fills up around you.
Your attention snaps to the front when the professor walks in and greets the class.
Professor Kim is the same one you've had for Biochem I and II. He knows you. He knows Eunseok. He definitely knows that you two existing in the same space is a hazard. So when he starts his usual first-day introduction, you let yourself relax.
"Okay everyone, now for this year's evaluation," Professor Kim announces. "You will have a test worth 40% of your grade. But this year, I decided to do something different. You'll have a practical component worth 60%. This practical will consist of an essay worth 20%, a seminar presentation of that essay topic worth another 20%, and finally, the lab component worth the remaining 20%. This will last all semester and will be done in pairs."
The classroom erupts into chatter.
"Settle down, everyone." Professor Kim holds up a hand. "I know you're all already planning partners, but I will be the one doing the pairing."
The whole class groans in unison.
He pulls out a clipboard. "I'll start pairing now."
You zone out a little, mentally running through who you'd want to work with if you had a choice. Sohee, obviously. Maybe that quiet girl in the back who actually does her readings—
Sohee suddenly cheers next to you, spinning around to dab up someone behind him. You turn. Anton. You must have missed him entering class. Of course. Of course Sohee gets paired with his best friend.
"L/N Y/N..." Professor Kim scans his paper. "And Song Eunseok."
The chatter around you shifts—whispers, giggles, a few people openly turning to stare. You're already on your feet before you fully process it. Across the room, Eunseok stands at the exact same moment.
"Professor, this has to be a mistake. Surely," you say, trying to sound reasonable and not like you're about to commit a crime.
"I request re-pairing on academic incompatibility grounds," Eunseok says smoothly, and you shoot him a glare. Who does he think he is, using big words to sound smarter while also trying to escape you?
Professor Kim looks between you both with an amused glint in his eye. Like this is entertaining to him. "You both sit down. I am not changing pairs. This will be good for you—force you to work on teamwork."
You drop back into your seat with a huff loud enough to make Sohee wince.
He pats your shoulder carefully, like you're a bomb about to go off. "It could be worse, Y/N. It could be someone who doesn't work at all."
"No offense, Hee, but I would rather do all the work alone than work with dipshit over there."
Behind you, Anton giggles. You throw him a pointed look over your shoulder and his hands shoot up in immediate surrender.
You groan and drop your forehead onto the desk, letting it thunk against the surface a few times for good measure. Under your breath, you murmur every curse word you know. A few hexes too, just for good luck.
When you finally look up, you make the mistake of scanning the room.
Eunseok is already looking at you.
He smirks. Then—slowly, deliberately—he brings two fingers to his lips and blows you a kiss.
You stare back with a look that should put him six feet under.
Anton and Sohee exchange a glance over your head. "This is gonna be a long semester," Anton sighs.
The rest of class passes in a blur. You don't hear a single word Professor Kim says about the syllabus. You're too busy plotting how to survive this without committing murder.
When class is finally dismissed, you're the first one out the door. You need air. You need to scream. You need to find a hole to crawl into and never come out.
Sohee and Anton catch up to you quickly. Sohee loops an arm around your shoulder, steering you toward the path off campus. "Let's go to the café. Karina and Yujin are already waiting."
You let yourself be dragged.
The café near campus is busy, but your friends have already claimed a table by the window. You drop into a seat across from Karina, scowl firmly in place.
Karina raises an eyebrow. "What could have possibly happened in morning classes that has you looking like that already? It's the first day back."
"Right?" Yujin teases. "You were so happy and joyful this morning."
You open your mouth to answer, but Sohee beats you to it. "The biochem professor paired her with Eunseok for a semester's worth of work."
Karina and Yujin exchange a look. Then they both start snickering.
"Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on that classroom wall," Yujin says.
Anton leans forward eagerly. "You missed them both jumping up at the same time to beg the professor to change partners. It was like a coordinated attack."
They giggle. Karina turns to Anton. "Who did you get paired with?"
Anton grins and slings an arm around Sohee's shoulders. The two of them beam like they've won the lottery.
"Lucky bastards," you mutter. Then, louder: "The teacher did this on purpose. I'm sure of it. He knows me and Ass Song don't get along at all."
Yujin tilts her head. "Maybe you can try and resolve your differences? Or whatever you guys have going on?"
Karina's eyes light up with mischief. "Maybe the teacher is trying to make his own rivals-to-lovers show happen right in his classroom."
Sohee snorts into his drink.
You give Karina the most disgusted look you can muster. "Take that back."
Yujin shrugs. "I mean... he is good looking. And there's definitely some tension between you two..."
You slap both hands over your ears. "La la la la la. Can't hear you."
The table dissolves into laughter.
You drop your hands and glare at all of them. "Can we just have lunch before I barf what I don't even have in my stomach yet? Thanks."
They're still chuckling when the food arrives, but you're too busy eating—and thinking—to join in.
You need a plan. A strategy. A way to survive this semester with your grades and your sanity intact.
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When you finally get back to your dorm room, you're greeted by the familiar scent of your incense. You breathe it in deep, letting it ground you.
It's a small dorm—barely big enough for a bed, a desk, and a closet—but you're lucky enough to have a private bathroom and a mini kitchen. A luxury in student housing terms.
You toe off your shoes, drop your bag by the door, and launch yourself onto the bed. Face-first. Into the pillow.
It's muffled and probably sounds unhinged to anyone passing by in the hallway, but you don't care. You let the day's frustration pour out until your lungs burn.
You groan, fumbling for it blindly.
You squint at the screen.
Unknown Number: the greatest partner you'll ever have in your life ;)
Your blood runs cold. Then hot. Then cold again.
You: who gave u my number
You make a mental note to kill Anton tomorrow. Slowly. Painfully.
Song Eunseok: well partner we need to figure out how we're gonna do this project
You: meet me after classes at 5 pm near the cafe. and dont be late
Song Eunseok: yes ma'am. don't wanna upset miss scholar over here
You bury your face in the pillow again and scream. Louder this time.
Dinner is takeout. You're too drained to cook, too irritated to pretend otherwise. Some greasy noodles from the place down the street become your dinner, eaten cross-legged on your bed while some random Netflix movie plays in the background.
You're not really watching it. You're just... existing. Letting the noise fill the space so you don't have to think.
Eventually, sleep pulls you under.
You need it. A good night's rest, because God knows you'll need every ounce of strength to deal with the devil tomorrow.
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It's 4:55 PM and you're pushing open the door to the café, fully prepared to wait at least ten minutes for Eunseok to show up like the inconsiderate asshole he is.
Sitting at a table by the window. Two drinks in front of him. Looking annoyingly comfortable, like he owns the place.
You swallow your irritation and drop into the seat across from him. No hello. No pleasantries. Just: "How are we doing this?"
Eunseok raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. You're the one who likes to be bossy all the time. Now you're not?"
You paste on your most sarcastic smile. "I was trying to be nice. Give you a chance to think about something in your life for once."
"Fine." You lean back, crossing your arms. "I'll tell you my plan. We pick a topic we're both good at. I do the bio part, you do the chem part. In a few weeks, we meet up again to put it all together."
Eunseok tilts his head. "And the lab?"
"You stay out of my way and let me work. I don't bother you, you don't bother me."
He lets out a short laugh. "Me stay out of your way? Sweetheart, I'm not the one in this conversation who got a 80% in Biochem II lab, am I?"
Your jaw tightens. The jab lands exactly where he aimed it—right in the sore spot you've been trying to ignore. You don't give him the satisfaction of an explanation. You don't tell him about the family emergency that semester, the sleepless weeks, the way that grade still haunts your GPA.
You just stare him down. "Do we have a deal or not?"
Something flickers in his expression. Too fast to name. Then it's gone.
"Sure." He shrugs like he couldn't care less. "Let's meet in a month to see how we're doing. Let's just pick a topic and get this over with. I have better shit to do than be here."
"Like I wanna be here either," you mutter under your breath.
You manage to agree on a topic in record time—something boring enough to be safe, interesting enough to pass. Then you're both out of your seats and heading in opposite directions without a backward glance.
You stop by your dorm just long enough to change into something more comfortable. Sweatpants. An oversized hoodie. The uniform of someone who needs to decompress.
Tonight is a small gathering at Anton and Sohee's apartment—just dinner, drinks, and the familiar chaos of your friend group. It's close to campus, maybe a ten-minute walk, which means you don't have to think too hard about navigating there on autopilot.
You're the last to arrive, because someone had to be responsible and pick up drinks on the way.
Sohee opens the door with a grin, immediately snatching the bags from your hands. "My hero."
He jerks his head toward the kitchen. "In there."
"Thanks." You step inside, past the girls already settled on the couch, and take a deep breath.
The volume startles Karina and Yujin, who whip around with wide eyes. Sohee freezes mid-step, drinks still in hand, looking confused as hell.
In the kitchen doorway, Anton freezes too.
You march toward him. "What made you think it would be a good idea to give my number to Eunseok and NOT TELL ME?"
His face cycles through several expressions—confusion, realization, fear—before settling on something pitiful. "Well... he asked? Said it was for the project? I didn't know I wasn't supposed to—" He pouts. Actually pouts.
The anger drains out of you as fast as it came. You deflate with a sigh. "Fuck. Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. You didn't do anything wrong. Just... give me a heads-up next time, okay?"
He brightens immediately, nodding eagerly.
Sohee appears behind you, handing you a drink. "Can we eat now? I'm starving."
You take the drink and let him steer you toward the living room, where food is already spread out on the coffee table. The night dissolves into what you needed it to be—loud laughter, terrible game decisions, the warmth of people who don't require explanations.
By 1 AM, you and the girls are ready to head back to the dorms. Karina and Yujin share a room next to yours, so the walk home is a group effort.
"Bye, guys. See you tomorrow," you call over your shoulder.
Sohee waves from the doorway. Anton is already half-asleep on the couch behind him.
You're halfway down the path when you remember. You spin around. "SOHEE. Don't forget your lab coat tomorrow. Biochem lab at four."
He gives you a thumbs up. Or a middle finger. It's too dark to tell. You decide to believe it was a thumbs up.
Karina loops her arm through yours as you walk, Yujin on her other side. The campus is quiet this late, streetlights casting soft pools of light along the path.
"You okay?" Karina asks quietly.
You think about it. The project. Eunseok's stupid face.
"Yeah," you say. And mean it. "I will be."
The dorm building comes into view. Tomorrow is another day. Another battle. But for now, you have good friends, a full stomach, and the kind of tired that promises actual sleep.
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The day you've been dreading arrives earlier than expected.
Your head throbs gently from last night's drinks—nothing debilitating, just a persistent reminder that maybe downing that last shot with Karina wasn't your smartest move. Especially not the night before your first lab session with Eunseok as your official partner.
You, Sohee, and Anton walk into the biochem lab together. They peel off toward one of the benches near the window, already chatting about something stupid, while you make your way to the bench where Eunseok is already seated.
You nod at him. Barely. The bare minimum of acknowledgment required to function as human beings sharing a workspace.
He takes one look at your face and grins.
"Too much fun last night, huh? Right before lab." He clicks his tongue. "So rebellious of Miss Academic."
You drop your bag onto the bench with more force than necessary. "Did you come with the asshole factory setting, or did you acquire it later in life? I'm genuinely curious."
Behind Eunseok, Seunghan—his best friend, who's taking this class as an elective—lets out a bark of laughter. "She clocked you, not gonna lie."
Eunseok turns and flicks his forehead. "Whose side are you on?"
Seunghan just shrugs, still grinning.
Before Eunseok can retaliate, the professor walks in and starts handing out the protocol sheets. You reach for yours—
Eunseok snatches it first.
"Excuse me. I was reading that."
He holds it just out of your reach, scanning the page. "Well, I gotta read it too, partner. Don't you think?"
You bite back the first five responses that come to mind. Not worth it. Not in front of the whole class. You settle for a long, slow exhale through your nose and turn to gather materials instead.
The first part of the lab goes... okay. Stilted. Functional. You work on opposite sides of the bench, communicating in grunts and pointed silences. It's almost sustainable.
Then you reach the final part of the protocol.
You pick up the micropipette.
Eunseok's head snaps up. "Why are you doing that part?"
"Because I reached it first. And I'm used to doing this."
"And I'm not?" He reaches for the pipette. "Give it to me. I can do it better."
"You literally don't even know what volume we're—"
"I know how to read a protocol, thanks."
"Then read it and back off—"
Your hands are both on the pipette now. The bench vibrates. A beaker near the edge wobbles once, twice—
Solution spills across the bench, dripping onto your lab coats, pooling around the equipment. You both freeze.
"You see what you did?" You yank the pipette free. "If you'd just stayed quiet and let me do this, this would not have happened."
"Me?" He stares at you, incredulous. "You knocked it down."
The professor appears at your elbow like a particularly inconvenient ghost. You force your face into something resembling calm and paste on a smile.
"No, sir! Just a little spill. We'll clean it right up."
The professor eyes you both. Suspiciously. For a long moment. Then he nods and moves on.
Eunseok mutters under his breath, "Kiss ass."
You shoot him a look that could kill.
The rest of the lab is spent in tense, meticulous silence. You clean up together—physically close but emotionally light-years apart—and somehow manage to finish the protocol without any more disasters.
When class ends, you're packing your bag with aggressive, jerky movements. Eunseok slings his bag over his shoulder and pauses.
"Don't get in my way next time, sweetheart. Okay?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. Just walks off toward the door like he didn't just ruin your entire morning.
You stare after him. Your hand closes around the nearest object—a textbook, heavy, perfectly throwable—and you're already calculating the trajectory when someone grabs your wrist.
"He's just trying to get under your skin," Anton says gently, prying the book from your fingers. "Don't let him."
You drop your forehead into your palm and groan. Long. Loud. From the soul.
Sohee appears on your other side, patting your shoulder sympathetically. "One lab down. How many more to go?"
"The rest of the semester," you say into your hand. "The rest of my life. Forever."
They walk you out of the lab, one on each side like bodyguards escorting a witness in danger. Which, honestly? Accurate.
Another day of dealing with the devil done.
You might actually go insane by the end of this semester.
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Two weeks of successfully ignoring Eunseok and avoiding fights with him. Two weeks of peaceful, blissful, rivalry-free existence.
And now you have to ruin it by calling him.
You stare at his contact name—"Ass Song (do not answer)"—for a full thirty seconds before finally pressing call. He picks up on the third ring.
"Sweetheart." His voice drips with amusement. "Miss me so much you're calling me now?"
"Please. You flatter yourself too much." You lean against your desk, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I need you to send me your part of the project. We have to deliver the first draft tomorrow."
A pause. You can practically hear him smirking.
"Sure. I'll send it right now."
You blink. No argument? No jab about you being bossy or rushing him?
You hang up before he can say anything else.
True to his word, his file arrives in your inbox five minutes later. You merge it with yours without actually looking at it—future you problem—and submit the whole thing to the professor with a relieved sigh.
One less thing to worry about.
Your dorm feels too small tonight. Too quiet. You fire off a text to the group chat.
You: hey are u guys in ur dorm? im bored and wanna hang
You grab your pillow (their couch is somehow always uncomfortable) and make the short trip next door.
You knock once before pushing in. "Sup, ladies! What are y'all up to?"
Karina looks up from her bathroom mirror, face half-covered in green clay. "We were about to do our skin care and were literally about to call you."
Yujin waves from her spot on the floor, already in pajamas. "Great minds think alike."
You drop onto the couch and accept the sheet mask Karina tosses at your face.
The next hour is peaceful in the way only girl nights can be—face masks, gossip, the low hum of a playlist in the background. But you notice Yujin keeps glancing at her phone. Smiling at it. The kind of smile that has nothing to do with whatever Karina is saying about her physics TA.
You narrow your eyes. "What's got you so interested in that phone of yours?"
Yujin looks up, and her cheeks go slightly pink. "Well... I've been talking to this guy. Sion."
Karina gasps. "WAIT. The one you were crushing on in thermodynamics class last year? That Sion?"
"How?! How did this happen? Spill everything right now."
Yujin tucks her legs under her, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably. "Okay, so you know how me and my ex—Chaeyoung—stayed friends after we broke up first year?"
You nod. Chaeyoung is a legend in your circle purely for how gracefully she handled that situation.
"Well, I ran into her at the cafeteria last week. She was with her new friend group, and Sion was there. I got all weird and awkward—" Yujin makes a face "—and she must have noticed, because she texted me later. Asked if I still thought he was cute."
Karina squeals. Yujin shushes her.
"I told her the truth. And she... set us up. Wingwoman ex-girlfriend style."
You stare at her. "That's one hell of a nice ex. I'm genuinely impressed you two stayed on such good terms that she's actively wingwoman-ing for you now."
Yujin grins. "Right? But anyway. We've just been texting for now. Nothing serious." She pauses. "We do have a date this Saturday, though."
Karina launches herself at Yujin in a hug that nearly knocks them both over. "OMG. We need to help you pick outfits. Full fashion show. You're trying on everything you own."
Yujin laughs, hugging her back. "Deal."
You stay up way too late. Gossip turns into deep talk turns into random YouTube videos turns into Karina attempting to read everyone's palms.
At some point, you stretch out on the couch and sigh contentedly.
"Can I sleepover tonight?" you ask. "I know I'm literally next door, but we don't do this as much anymore. Third year is so packed with stuff."
Karina side-hugs you from her spot on the floor. Yujin nods from her bed.
"Of course, babe," Karina says. "One big sleepover like old times. It's been due."
You end the night squished together on various surfaces, watching rom-coms and ruthlessly making fun of every unrealistic moment.
"They would never catch that flight in real life," you mutter.
"He literally just ran through an airport without a ticket. Security would never."
"He's hot though," Karina offers.
"Doesn't matter. Realism matters."
Yujin throws a pillow at you. You throw it back.
Eventually, one by one, you all fall asleep—warm, safe, and exactly where you're supposed to be.
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You like to call this week "Stay Tuned: Will I Survive Midterms or Will They End Me?"
Except midterms haven't even started yet. It's Friday. The calm before the storm. And instead of using this precious, sacred, once-in-a-lifetime weekend to prepare for the hell that awaits you on Monday, you've been sitting in this study room for five hours, watching your brain slowly liquefy.
Four midterms. Five days. Starting Monday. Who in their right mind would schedule bioinformatics, molecular biology, biochemistry, and statistics in a single week? The answer, apparently, is your university's scheduling committee—a group of people who have clearly never experienced the existential dread of trying to memorize metabolic pathways while running on three hours of sleep and pure spite.
You're currently in a study room you booked specifically so you could have peace and quiet. No roommates. No friends asking to grab food. No distractions.
Five hours. Five. Your back hurts. Your eyes burn. And you've been staring at the same bioinformatics slide for what feels like an eternity, except the words have stopped making sense and now they just look like random letters arranged in a cruel, meaningless pattern.
You drop your head into your hands and let out a desperate sigh that echoes off the walls.
Why did you choose this major? Why didn't you just do something easy?? Like professional napping?
You don't look up immediately. Probably Sohee, coming to check on you, or maybe a stranger who booked the room after you—except you have it until 8 PM, so—
"Thought this room was supposed to be for studying, not for hosting a funeral."
Your head snaps up. Eunseok stands in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the frame, looking annoyingly well-rested. Like he didn't just walk out of a perfectly good nap while you've been here slowly decomposing over a laptop.
"What do you want?" Your voice comes out dry. Sandpaper. You haven't had water in three hours.
He steps inside, letting the door close behind him. "Just came to check up on you." His eyes sweep over the disaster zone that is your study space—crumpled papers, empty energy drink cans, your laptop with seventeen tabs open. "This room reeks of desperation."
"Eunseok." You press your fingers to your temples. "I don't have the patience for your remarks right now. I really, really don't."
"Don't be like that, sweetheart." He's moving closer now, and there's something in his hands you can't quite see. "I'm only here to grace you with my presence. I even brought you something."
He sets a bag on the corner of the table. A familiar logo. Your favorite coffee shop. The one ten minutes off campus that you never have time to go to anymore.
Something inside you snaps.
"Why are you really here?" The words come out sharp, jagged. You push back from the table, chair scraping against the floor. "Does this seem funny to you? I have four midterms starting Monday. Four. And you show up here—" Your voice cracks. You hate that it cracks. "What, to watch me lose my mind? Get a front-row seat to the breakdown before finals even start?"
He blinks. "I—I was just—"
"You were just what?" You're standing now. Your hands are shaking. You can't tell if it's from hunger, caffeine, or the overwhelming pressure of knowing that everything hinges on next week. "Trying to sabotage me? Distract me so I fall behind before the first exam even hits? Or worse—coming here to antagonize me so I go into midterms already defeated?"
His jaw tightens. "That's not what this is."
"No? Then what is it, Eunseok?" You laugh, but there's nothing funny about it. "Because that's what you do, isn't it? Every single class, every single project, every single grade. You have to be there. You have to be better. You have to rub it in my face every chance you get."
"Where is this coming from—"
"And now you show up here, with coffee from my favorite place, like you're some kind of—what? Good Samaritan? Like you actually care?" Your voice is rising. You can't stop it. The words are pouring out now, all the stress and exhaustion and three years of never quite measuring up finally finding an outlet. "You want to see me break. That's what this is. You saw me struggling and thought you'd come watch. Maybe get a laugh. Maybe take a picture so you can remember the moment you finally beat me."
He stares at you. His face is very still. Too still.
"Is that really what you think of me?"
"Tell me I'm wrong." You're breathing hard now. "Tell me you didn't come here just to see me like this."
He doesn't answer right away. And in that silence, something in his expression shifts. The easy amusement is gone. The playful smirk. Everything. What's left is something you've never seen on his face before.
"Wow." His voice is quiet. Controlled. "Good to know that's what you think."
He reaches into his bag. You hadn't even noticed he had more. He pulls out a sandwich. A banana. A pack of your favorite chips—the pink ones you always grab from the vending machine. The ones you didn't even know he knew you liked.
He drops everything onto the table. The coffee sloshes against the lid.
"I saw you through the window." His voice is steady, but there's something underneath it that you've never heard before. Something raw. "You looked like you were about to pass out. Or cry. Or both. And even though we're not—" He stops. Exhales sharply through his nose. "I thought you might need food. And coffee. Because believe it or not, I'm not actually a monster."
He steps back. The space between you suddenly feels like a canyon.
"But apparently, I'm always the bad guy in your story." He holds your gaze for a moment. His jaw works, like he's swallowing something he wants to say. "So I'll gladly 'fuck off.' Have fun with your midterms. Wouldn't want to sabotage you."
He turns. Walks to the door. Doesn't look back.
The door slams behind him with a sound that echoes through the small room and settles deep in your chest.
You stand there for a long moment. Frozen. The silence presses in on all sides.
Your eyes drift to the table. The coffee. The sandwich. The chips. The stupid banana like he was actually concerned about your potassium intake.
The coffee from the shop ten minutes away.
He went off campus. For you.
He saw you through the window. He went out of his way. He brought you your favorite coffee, and snacks, and he didn't even ask for anything in return. He just... wanted to help.
And you threw it in his face.
Your hands are shaking. You slide back into your chair, suddenly boneless. A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. Then another. Then a sob catches in your throat.
You bury your face in your hands and let them come.
You really, really fucked up.
And now you have to get through the worst week of the semester carrying this guilt with you.
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You're in your dorm now, replaying what happened a million times in your head.
The coffee. The chips. The look on his face right before he walked out.
You don't even know what got into you. You never should have let the rage get the best of you. He was just trying to help. He went off campus. He brought your favorite coffee. And you—you threw it in his face like he was the enemy.
You're still sitting on your bed, staring at nothing, when a knock comes at the door.
You drag yourself up and open it. Karina and Yujin stand on the other side, already dressed up, energy buzzing off them like they've been mainlining caffeine.
"Get ready," Karina announces, pushing past you into the room. "We're going to a party."
You blink. "A what? No. Guys, I'm not in the mood."
"Yeah, no." Yujin follows Karina in, already heading for your closet. "You're going. You need to let loose before midterms week. You look like you haven't slept in weeks."
She's not wrong, but that's not the point.
You cross your arms, giving them your most stubborn look. "I said I'm not—"
"You're going, and that's final." Karina grabs your arm and starts steering you toward the bathroom. "Go shower. Me and Yujin will pick an outfit for you."
"We need to hurry," Yujin adds, already rifling through your clothes. "Anton and Sohee are picking us up."
You pause at the bathroom door. "Whose party even is this?"
"Seunghan's," Karina calls over her shoulder. "At his shared apartment with Wonbin and Sion."
Your stomach drops. Seunghan. Which means Eunseok will probably be there. Eunseok, who you screamed at four hours ago. Eunseok, who you accused of trying to sabotage you.
You eye Yujin, who is suddenly very focused on sorting through your tops. "I see why you want to go so badly."
A flush creeps up her neck. "Ugh. Well." She waves you off. "Go shower. We're gonna be late."
You laugh despite yourself and step into the bathroom.
When you get out, the outfit is laid out on your bed like a verdict.
A red leather skirt. Thigh-high boots. A black bodysuit that definitely shows more than you usually show. The whole thing screams attention.
You stare at it. Then at Karina.
She throws her hands up defensively. "Girl, you need to look hot. Maybe find a man while you're at it."
You open your mouth to argue, then close it. You don't have the energy to fight tonight. You're already drained from the study room, from replaying Eunseok's face, from the guilt sitting heavy in your chest.
You put on the outfit. Do some light makeup—enough to look alive, not enough to look like you're trying. When you catch your reflection in the mirror, you almost don't recognize yourself.
Hot, Karina's voice echoes in your head. Maybe find a man.
The last thing you need is more complications.
Karina grabs your hand. "Let's get this party started."
Yujin is already halfway out the door, and you let yourself be pulled along, the weight in your chest only getting heavier with every step.
The ride to the party is lively. Sohee is already buzzed—definitely from pre-gaming if the slight slur in his voice is anything to go by.
"You didn't tell us you were pre-gaming before the party, Hee," Yujin says from the back seat.
Sohee twists around to look at her. "Yeah, because when you guys pre-game, me and Anton have to babysit the three of you. I wanna make the most of this party." He gestures between himself and you. "Y'all don't have four midterms next week. I need to let loose before them."
You smile a little at the girls bickering with Sohee. Maybe this will be fun. Maybe you should let loose.
Anton parks the car, and everyone piles out.
You stop in front of the building and your brain short-circuits. This isn't a normal apartment. This is a full-on house. Three stories, nice exterior, the kind of place you'd expect to see in a movie about rich college kids, not actual people you know.
Anton follows your gaze. "Yeah, they're loaded. Three live in one apartment, the other three in another. Top floor is storage, from what I heard."
You shoot him a confused look but don't question how he knows so much. Anton is like that—collects information like a magpie collects shiny things.
Karina bounces on her heels. "Let's go, guys. Party's already started."
You step inside and the noise hits you first. Then the smell—alcohol and something sweet, bodies pressed together, music vibrating through the floorboards. The party is already full blast, people spilling across two floors, cups in hand, dancing like there's no tomorrow.
Sohee and Anton peel off immediately to find Seunghan. Yujin practically floats toward the kitchen, probably looking for Sion.
That leaves you and Karina.
You push through the crowd to the kitchen, which is somehow just as packed. Karina grabs a beer and hands it to you, but your eyes are fixed on the row of bottles on the counter.
She raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"
You don't answer. Just reach for the bottle and pour yourself a shot. Then another.
Karina watches you with growing concern. "Babes, maybe slow down?"
You're already pouring the third. "I'm fine, Rina. Not even buzzed yet."
That's a lie. You can feel the warmth spreading through your chest, the edges of your thoughts starting to blur. But that's the point. You want to forget today. You want to scrape the guilt out of your ribcage and leave it here, on this sticky floor, where it can't follow you into midterms week.
Someone calls Karina's name from across the room—a friend from her physics class.
"You gonna be okay?" she asks, already half-turned toward the voice.
"Yeah." You grab your beer. "Gonna dance a little."
She squeezes your hand and disappears into the crowd.
You lose yourself on the dancefloor. The music is loud enough to drown out thoughts, the bass heavy enough to vibrate through your bones. You close your eyes and let it happen—let your body move, let the alcohol blur the edges, let the guilt loosen its grip just enough to breathe.
At some point, the heat becomes too much. Too many bodies. Too loud. You need space.
You stumble toward the stairs—definitely drunk now—and make your way up to the second floor. It's quieter here. Fewer people. The ones that are around are either deep in conversation or pressed against walls, too occupied to notice you.
You wander down the hallway, looking for somewhere to sit, and spot a door slightly ajar. Probably the bathroom. You push it open—
And walk straight into someone's chest.
Hands catch your waist to steady you. You look up, already forming an apology, and the words die in your throat.
His face shifts from surprise to something harder to read. Your stomach drops. The guilt comes rushing back, sobering you faster than anything else could.
"Hi." Your voice comes out slurred. "I—hey. So."
He stares at you for a beat. "You're drunk." It's not a question. "Jesus."
He pulls you into the room—his room, you realize, glancing at the photos on the wall, the familiar jacket draped over a chair, the mess of textbooks on his desk. A room that feels painfully him.
"Sit." He guides you to the edge of his bed. "I'm going to get one of your friends."
"No." Your hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist before you can stop yourself. "Can you—can you stay? I need to talk to you."
He hesitates. You can see the war playing out on his face—the part of him that wants to walk away, the part that's too stubborn to leave you like this.
He sighs and grabs a bottle of water from his desk. "Drink this. You need to sober up."
You take it, drinking obediently while he crouches in front of you. His eyes scan your face, searching.
"I've never seen you this drunk." His voice is quieter now. "What the hell is up with you?"
You press a hand to your chest, right over the spot that's been heavy all night. "Wanted to get rid of this feeling." You look at him. "Guilt."
"I'm sorry." The words tumble out before you can stop them. "This afternoon. I was—I was overwhelmed, and I blew up on you. And all you did was try to help me."
A tear slips down your cheek. He watches it fall, something flickering in his expression.
"You brought me coffee." Your voice cracks. "From the shop ten minutes away. And snacks. And I—I said all that stuff. I know you're not the type of person to sabotage someone. I just needed someone to blame in case midterms go wrong. And you were there. And I'm sorry."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then he sighs and reaches up, wiping the tear from your cheek with his thumb.
"I know you didn't mean it." His voice is softer than you've ever heard it. "Don't worry about it, okay?" He pauses. "I just want you to know that even if we're 'rivals'..." He does air quotes. "Doesn't mean I don't care."
He settles onto the bed next to you. Close. Closer than he needs to be.
The tequila is still buzzing in your veins, lowering every wall you've ever built. You turn to look at him. Really look.
His eyes. His nose. His lips.
"Might be the tequila talking." Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. "But you have really pretty eyes."
You let your gaze travel. "And nose." Your hand moves before you can think better of it, fingers brushing against his lips. "And lips."
His breath catches. You can feel it against your fingertips.
"You're drunk," he says, but his voice is rougher now. "You don't know what you're saying."
You lean closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, can see the exact moment his eyes drop to your lips—
Anton stands in the doorway, chest heaving like he ran up the stairs. His eyes bounce between you and Eunseok, taking in the proximity, the position, the way you're leaning into his space.
Eunseok leans back immediately, putting distance between you. But you catch the way his jaw tightens.
"There you are." Anton exhales. He looks at Eunseok. "Thanks, bro. Karina was spiraling looking for her."
Eunseok nods, voice steady again. "Yeah. No problem. She's a little out of it. Gave her some water. She should start sobering up."
Anton crosses the room and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you up. "Y/N? Come on. Let's go."
You let him guide you toward the door, but you look back over your shoulder.
Eunseok is still sitting on the edge of his bed, watching you. Something unreadable in his expression.
You give him a small, drunk smile.
He doesn't smile back. But he doesn't look away either.
And then Anton is pulling you out the door, and the hallway is spinning, and your memory fuzzes into nothing.
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