"Violence isn't the answer, even for inanimate objects."
I spin around. Donghwa is standing there, hands in the pockets of his oversized coat, looking down at me. And I do meandown. I hate that he has four centimeters on me. It’s unnatural.
"Mind your business," I snarl, giving the machine another kick. "It took my money."
Donghwa steps forward. He pulls a crisp bill from his wallet and feeds it into the slot. He presses the button for the black coffee, retrieves the can, and cracks it open.
He takes a sip, watching me over the rim.
"Thanks," I say sarcastically, reaching for it.
He pulls it out of reach. "Oh, this is for me. I just wanted to show you how it works. You have to be gentle. The machine can sense desperation."
He walks away, sipping the coffeeIwanted.
I see red. I march after him, catching up as we reach the double doors to the courtyard. I try to shoulder-check him as we pass through the frame, putting all my gym-honed weight into it.
It’s like running into a brick wall. The guy is lean, but he’s dense. He barely stumbles, just shifts his weight and uses his hip to check me back. Since I’m already off-balance, I go stumbling sideways, nearly tripping over my own feet.
I catch myself, straightening my jacket, face burning.
"Careful," Donghwa calls over his shoulder, not even stopping. "You seem a little unstable on your feet lately. Maybe skip leg day and work on your core."
"I have a fantastic core!" I yell after him, which is exactly the kind of thing a cool, collected Alpha definitely screams in a crowded hallway.
I look around. A group of Omegas is giggling behind their hands.
And there, standing by the lockers, is Yoon Heesung. He’s looking at Donghwa’s retreating back with an expression I’ve never seen him direct at me—genuine interest.
My hands curl into fists.
This isn't just a rivalry anymore. He’s mocking me. He’s stealing my spotlight. He’s drinking my coffee.
Later I spot Donghwa immediately as I walk into the canteen. It’s hard not to. Kang Donghwa takes up space even when he’s sitting still, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of that ridiculous, overpriced black coat. He’s sitting with Jiyoon, looking at his phone, a pristine bunch of grapes resting on his tray like a still-life painting waiting to happen.
The opportunity is too good to pass up.
I alter my trajectory, aiming for the narrow gap between his table and the pillar. I speed up, feigning a distraction, looking over my shoulder at absolutely nothing.
"Whoops," I say loudly, swinging my arm wide as I pass.
My hand connects with his tray. It’s a beautiful, chaotic sweep. The bunch of grapes goes flying, scattering across the linoleum floor like green marbles.
I stop, putting a hand to my chest in mock surprise. "My bad, bro. Clumsy of me."
Donghwa looks at the empty spot on his tray, then down at the floor, then up at me. His expression doesn't change. Not a flicker of annoyance. He just stares.
"Clumsy," he says, his voice flat.
"I'll be more careful next time," I lie, flashing a grin that shows too many teeth. "Enjoy your... air."
I turn on my heel, feeling a surge of petty victory. That’ll teach him to drink my coffee. I swagger away, hips swaying, ready to join my table where Seungchan is already waving me over.
Thwack.
Something small and hard pelts the back of my head.
It stings, right at the base of my skull. I stumble a step, hand flying to the back of my neck. A grape bounces off my shoulder and rolls sadly onto the floor.
