In-ho flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh and I sat down beside him, the cheap mattress dipping under our weight. His crimson blood seeped through the make-shift bandage, leaving a stain on the white sheets.

The others crowded around the bed watching us, but they all knew better than to interfere. All I wanted to do was to talk to them, tell them how happy I was that they all survived, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.

My voice came out strong despite the hesitation I felt, "Let me see." In-ho knew it was a demand, not a request.

I couldn't deny the way my stomach fluttered at the thought that I was the only one In-ho let help him, even if he was just playing into the aliases.

He reluctantly held out his arm and god . Now that I was up close I could see it was so much worse than I thought. I couldn't tell what was blood, flesh, or bandage, they all mixed together in a bloody mess. Wincing, I unwrapped it the best I could. In-ho hissed but didn't pull away, so I kept going.

I placed the blood-soaked covering on the bed beside us and turned my attention towards the long slice in his forearm. I didn't even know where to begin. He needed stitches, ointments, and a proper bandage, and I had nothing.

Before I could do anything, I was distracted.

The masked manager walked into the room, slamming the door behind them with a loud bang. Everyone turned their gaze towards the front of the room.

"Congratulations on your win. Here are the results." The room dimmed into its usual eerie darkness as the piggy bank descended, casting a yellow hue across the shadows. Stacks of money landed in the piggy bank accompanied by high pitched ringing noise, almost like when you win at a casino. The money just kept falling. The music kept playing. After what felt like forever, the manager finally announced the results.

"30 players were eliminated. An extra 3 billion won is added to the prize, now totalling at 38.6 billion won. Split evenly, that is about 551,428,570 per player."

In-hos breaths got heavier and quicker beside me. He leaned forward, trying to steady himself.

Surprised murmurs filled the room. On the X's side, people were hopeful. I mean, that was plenty of money to pay off their debts and live comfortably. Surely people would come to their senses and vote to leave?

But on the O's side, grumbles echoed throughout their area. A multiple scoffs, followed by a complaint. "That's it! We almost died and that's all we get!" Everyone on the O side nodded, agreeing with the old man who decided to voice his complaint. Player 100. He was definitely a politician of some sort, I remember he was billions of won in debt. Fat, shrewd, and heartless—practically a picture perfect politician.

I continued my hold on In-hos, now trembling, hand. The blood was starting to flow from his arm to hand, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

The players on the O side started their usual chant, though it was somewhat quieter with 230s absence.

"One more game!"

I had to hold back my sigh. How ignorant. Yes, they could play one more game, but what they didn't know was that half of the players were going to die. Tuho was played almost exactly like marbles, you would get into duos and only one would survive. I silently prayed that somehow, the X's would win. I don't think I could watch as half of my allies died.

The manager ignored their chants and complaints and promptly started the voting.

"Player 001."

His head perked up at his number being called and carefully stood up. He slid off the bed and his feet hit the floor with a quiet thud. As he stood upright, he stumbled, but caught himself before falling. I watched as he clenched his jaw and let out a hiss.

His gaze tentatively flickered to mine and our eyes met for only a second, but a whole conversation passed between us.

My widened eyes looked up at him, silently asking the question: Are you alright? Do you need my help?

He subtly shook his head: I'm fine .

I wasn't sure whether he just wanted to prove a point or if he didn't want to look weak in front of everyone, but either way his stubbornness would be the death of him. I guess I couldn't blame him. After years of being the front man, it must be difficult for him to trust anyone.

He sulked towards the front of the room, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. All eyes were on him. Some people let out gasps of shock when they caught sight of his blood stained arm, others watched him like a hawk, waiting to take down their prey.

Once he reached the podium, he pressed X without hesitation. The dull beep echoed throughout the room, commanding everyone's attention. He ripped the O patch off with his left hand and handed the bloody patch to the guard, who gave him a red X. He placed the patch on his chest and trudged over towards the X side of the room.

"002."

I swiftly walked through the crowd and made my way down the aisle, following In-hos blood trail. I pressed the X button and the same shrill beep echoed throughout the room, accompanied with some sighs and some cheers. My steps echoed throughout the room as I walked towards In-ho, grasping his arm.

The vote continued, but I decided In-ho was more important.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do, but I figured the best thing would be to keep putting pressure on the wound until we were able to get to the bathroom. So, that's what I did. I wrapped my hand around his forearm and pressed down. In-ho shifted, trying to get away, but I kept my hand steady.

He let out a quiet breath—whether from pain or frustration, I couldn't tell. But he seemed to know that pressure was the best thing for it right now and didn't complain.

For the first part of the vote, it was split pretty much evenly in half: Each X vote was countered with an O. However, after a few O votes in a row, Gi-hun decided to speak up.

Gi-hun stepped forward with heavy steps and even heavier breaths. "Do you guys want to die? You saw how many people this past game killed, is this money worth more than your lives?!"

A couple of people on the X's side nodded and shouted words of agreement.

Player 100 sauntered forward, "Yeah, maybe you bitches will die and we will get even more money. What's one more game? Especially with that asshole over there who's basically as good as dead."

It was almost comical, the way everyones' gaze shifted towards me and In-ho. In-ho held their gaze with fiery eyes, full of simmering anger. His eyes scanned the room, looking at every player as if silently challenging them to speak up.

A brief, tense silence spread over the room and moments later, exploded into chaos.

X's were shouting at O's trying to convince them to leave, but the O's were having none of it. Everyone was yelling at each other, attacking them for everything and anything. But, just before it could get physical, Gi-hun broke the tension.

He screamed, desperation laced his voice, "QUIET!"

That shut everyone up. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Do you really think that the game will be easier just because he's injured? Do you think the game discriminates? He could be dead just like you could. Do you really want to take that chance?"

Player 100 was silent for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal. I used this brief moment of silence to support Gi-hun.

I took one step forward, still holding onto In-ho's arm. "Think of your families. If you die here they will never know what happened to you. Think of your moms, your dads, your children. Do you really want them suffering like that?" My voice came out rather steady despite the nerves I was feeling.

The old man scoffed, "Ah! Shut up girl . Some of us don't have families to go back to."

I had to hold back a snicker, of course, he didn't have any family. The irony was almost too perfect. But before I could laugh in his face, he continued talking.

"And what are you, a plant? You and your husband sneak off every night—don't think we haven't noticed! And being numbers 001 and 002? That can't be a coincidence!"

Murmurs rippled throughout the group, everyone seemed to be staring straight at us.

"Yeah," Another voice chimed in, "And during the game 001 said, ' Turn around so that this game kills you before I can,' and he died . Is he the one controlling the game?"

"I-" I tried to come up with an explanation, an excuse, anything , but they kept accusing, kept yelling. I turned and looked towards Gi-hun and the others. They were trying to defend us, but I saw the slight glint in his eyes—he wasn't entirely convinced himself.

Then, a comment cut through the chaos, sharp and unmistakable, "During the game she called him In-ho. Is that his real name? Is Young-il just an alias?"

My heart dropped. Had I actually said that? I swallowed, hard.

I mean, what could I say? They clocked us. They were 100% correct about everything.

My stomach twisted and my mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse.

But then, I felt a bit of pressure on my hand and turned my gaze. In-ho was standing there, leaning against me, with the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. I let out a soft gasp, the memory almost felt like whiplash, pushing at the front of my mind.

Last night—God, it felt like forever ago— he said that he had a plan. I told him we would get caught and he reassured me that he had a plan. And here it was, unfolding in front of him like a perfectly wrapped present on christmas morning. This is exactly what he wanted to happen. So, I decided to stay quiet, waiting to see what he had to say.

A moment passed. And another. And suddenly, I was worried. He did have a plan, right? I looked at him, panic-struck.

And then— it started off quiet, so quiet I thought I was hallucinating—but it was undeniable, In-ho was laughing. It began with a raspy chuckle but quickly turned into a full on holler. Soon, he was doubled over, still leaning against me for support.

The arguments and yelling died off, and everyone turned to look at In-ho. I looked, too, clearly taken aback. I could only wait in suspense. What is he possibly going to say? What was so funny?

When he finally recovered from his laughing fit, his voice came out gruff, "See how this place turns people against each other?"

Silence.

"Are you seriously attacking us just because we go to the bathroom, at night?"

He scoffed, "What do you think we are doing in there? We're certainly not plotting the game."

A tense silence settled over the room as his words sank in. What was he talking abo-

Oh.

Oh my god.

My face felt like it was on fire, my entire body burned with embarrassment. I had never felt more embarrassed in my whole life. For a moment I just stood there, bearing the weight of everyone's eyes on me. Then, unable to resist, I let out a soft, awkward chuckle.

I stared at the floor. I don't think I would be able to look anyone in the eyes ever again. Of course, what he said wasn't true, but that didn't help. As long as they believed it, it might as well have been true.

In-ho started talking again, his voice carried throughout the whole room.

"It was pure coincidence that boy died, but I would have killed him regardless."

In-ho shifted his weight, putting more of it onto me, letting out a quiet gasp at the pain.

"And, In-ho is my given name, I changed it when my late wife died. Min-ji sometimes calls me that."

The players seemed to shrink back, embarrassed and uncomfortable at his confessions.

In-ho let out a cynical yet sarcastic laugh, "Any more questions?"

The uncomfortable silence seemed to stretch on endlessly. A few people cleared their throats, and others shook their heads.

"I am here for the money just like everyone else, so let's vote to leave so we all can survive."

The manager decided that this was an ample time to continue the vote, and—honestly—I couldn't have felt more relieved. It felt like there had been a weight lifted from my chest when the players turned their gazes towards the front of the room and away from us.

"120."

Finally, I took a deep breath, inhaling slowly and exhaling even more slowly. As I breathed out, I felt a subtle shift beside me and glanced over to find a subtle smirk plastered on In-hos face.

I was embarrassed, ashamed, and mortified, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of absurdity at the situation. These people actually thought I was being fucked every night. They didn't know that this was my boss nor that we had never actually even done anything besides holding hands.

Wait.

My thoughts circled back.

Every. Night.

I felt my face burn. These people actually believed I was being fucked nightly.

I turned my head, bringing my lips close to his ear, "Fuck you." I couldn't help the smile that spread on my face. I mean, what could I do but laugh? Probably not the best choice of words—In-ho's eyes gleamed with amusement. He was enjoying this far too much.

He didn't say a word and let out a soft chuckle. But then, without warning, he lost his footing and fell to the ground with a loud slap , falling right into the puddle of blood that he had created.

I gasped and dropped to my knees, also landing in the growing pool of blood. In-ho was panting, breaths coming rapidly and unevenly. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were distant. He was clearly trying to push through, but failing. He was losing too much blood, he needed to get cleaned up. Now.

I gritted my teeth and leaned close to him, "We are going to the bathroom." He nodded, knowing there was no room for argument.

In any normal case, the guards would have just ignored us, but—well—In-ho was obviously a special circumstance. If anyone questioned us we could just say no one was allowed to die during the vote, or something like that. There was no point in worrying about what hasn't happened, and I'm sure In-ho would have another stupid plan anyways.

I stood up, put his good arm around my shoulder and wrapped my arm around his back for support. He put most of his weight onto me which made it difficult to walk, but we hobbled up towards the door. I stole one last glance at the scoreboard: 16:19. It wasn't looking good for the X's.

We finally reached the door where a manager was waiting. I pretended to say something to them to maintain our aliases. I figured now that everyone suspected us, they would be watching us like a hawk. The manager nodded and quickly opened the door.

The second the door shut behind us the manager grabbed In-ho from me, clearly sensing my struggle.

"Can you take him to the bathroom?" I asked, and the manager hesitated. The manager knew as well as I did that he needed real medical attention. Even though they were wearing their black mask I could clearly picture the look on their face, skeptical and silently questioning. Though, they knew not to question their superiors, and carried In-ho, bridal style, to the bathroom. This guard will definitely have something funny to report to his friends tonight. Carrying the front man like that? That would be enough to make anyone laugh— even I had to hold back a snicker.

But, what worried me was that In-ho did not refuse nor fight back. At all. He just laid there, limp in the manager's arms. My heart hammered in my chest as I climbed the stairs.

After some struggle with balancing In-hos weight, the guard finally made it to the bathroom. I held the door open for them and he placed In-ho on the counter, right in between the sinks. He flopped down, slumping into a position that almost looked like the letter C. He placed his injured forearm on his lap and let out a breathless whine.

The manager stepped back, assessing the situation. We shared a glance, fear evident in both of our faces, though his was hidden by his mask. If the front man died I would never hear the end of it, especially because he got injured protecting me .

"Should I get a bandage or something? Some ointment?" The manager blatantly went against the rules—speaking without being spoken to—but that was the least of my worries.

"Yes-" "No."

Me and In-ho both started talking at the same time. I whipped my head towards him—he couldn't be serious! Did he not understand the situation he was in? He was losing blood at an alarming rate, there was blood seeping into the sinks just from him sitting there for a few seconds.

"If you don't get it cleaned you will die." I said and the manager nodded.

"At least let me get you a sterile bandage?" He looked at me for approval and I nodded, but In-ho stopped him just before he could go.

"No, I don't want the players to be suspicious." His voice came out strained and raspy. He looked at both of us through slitted eyelids. He was just barely hanging on to consciousness.

And still, he had the audacity to be stubborn.

"But-"

" No ."

I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth together as frustration burned inside me. It took everything I had not to snap at him.

Here he was, barely conscious in a bathroom with medical supplies just inches away. And yet, he refused because he didn't want the players to be suspicious— the players that would be dead in days? I couldn't tell if he was being cunning and prepared or just plain stupid.

The manager looked at me through his mask, questioning what he should do. I shook my head. I figured In-ho would never change his mind, and I didnt want to exhaust him even more by arguing.

"If you change your mind I'll be right out here, sir." He nodded at me and went to stand outside the bathroom. The door closed behind him with a quiet creak.

We were alone. The bathroom was silent, save for In-hos heavy breaths. I walked towards the counter where he sat, my footsteps echoing throughout the room. He looked almost like a doll, just sitting there.

Without asking for permission, I took his arm in my hand. It didn't look any better. His whole arm and hand were covered in blood. But now, dried blood mixed with fresh blood, leaving his skin hard and flaking.

In-hos gaze followed me as I turned on the faucet and walked around the bathroom, collecting anything that could be used to help him. My search ended up rather unsuccessful: only reaping toilet paper and soap. Well, I suppose it was better than nothing, at least the soap would be useful for cleaning it.

I walked back towards him and placed the items on the counter beside him. He said nothing, just looked up at me with tired eyes. His breaths were becoming more rigid and uneven by the second.

"I'm going to clean it, is that okay? It's going to hurt." I asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. In-ho shifted, giving me better access to his arm and slowly nodded.

I gently took his arm and pushed his sleeve up towards his shoulder. My fingers brushed against his skin as I rolled the bloody fabric upwards. He tensed, but didnt pull away. My hand remained on his shoulder for just a moment longer than I should have. The air between us grew thick, charged with a tension that was almost tangible.

He watched me as I folded up the toilet paper and held it under the faucet. Once it was doused in the warm water, I held it up to his bloody arm. I worked my way from his hand upwards, cleaning the dried blood off his skin. I ran the warm paper over each of his fingers and across his knuckles. Then, I made my way to his wrist, where most of the dried blood had accumulated. I gently scrubbed the skin around his wrist, cleaning him so delicately, like he was made of glass and would shatter if I touched him wrong.

Finally, once his wrist was cleaned I made my way towards his bloody forearm.

My heart pounded in my chest as I took his hand in mine to get a better angle, though I almost flinched away at the coldness. Even after being washed with a warm roll of toilet paper, his hand was freezing . Did he really lose that much blood?

I threw the bloody toilet paper aside and got another roll to finish cleaning the area around his cut. This proved to be a difficult task: everytime I cleaned it, it would just start bleeding again. The blood seemed endless. How was he still alive?

The room felt quieter, smaller, the air heavy with something unspoken. I tried to focus on the wound, but my hands weren't as steady as I wanted them to be. I could feel his heavy gaze on me as I cleaned his arm. I swallowed, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck.

Every brush of my fingers against his cool skin sent jolts of awareness through me. His breathing slowed, but his breaths were just as heavy as before. The way his body tensed made it clear he was in pain.

"You're freezing." I murmured, desperate to break the silence.

He hummed in agreement.

The silence returned. I, very gently, pressed the paper into his cut, making him groan. The noise came from deep within his throat, and it sent shivers down my spine, heat pooled in my stomach. The sound put thoughts in my mind I had no business thinking about, especially not right now when he needed my help.

I shook my head, trying to banish the thoughts along with the lingering warmth in my stomach.

His body shuddered under my touch. I wasn't sure whether it was the cold or something else, something that burned deep within me. Surely he felt the tension between us, too? As much as I tried to avoid thinking about it, it lingered in the back of my mind, burning with every touch.

"I'm going to have to clean it out." I said, my voice steady despite my unstable whirlwind of thoughts.

I held the paper in place, trying to apply pressure to the cut. With the added pressure it slowly started bleeding less.

He let out a shaky breath, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to mine and held my gaze. His brown eyes bore into mine, though lacking their usual cunningness.

"Do you want to do it?"

He sighed and slowly shook his head, averting his gaze.

I removed the bloody roll of toilet paper and got another, fresh roll. This time, instead of just water, I added a bit of soap. I wish I had an antiseptic or some other kind of ointment, but this would have to work in the meantime.

I sat down on the counter in the small space between the sink and In-ho. Our bodies were close, but not quite touching.

"Ready?" I rubbed the soap around on the toilet paper until it was full of suds.

He let out a soft laugh, "Not really."

"Well, get ready." I grabbed his arm and placed the warm soapy paper on his cut. I applied a bit of pressure and he winced at my touch. Slowly, I traced around the wound, cleaning out the dried blood and dirt. His breath hitched and when I hit a particularly sensitive spot, he flinched.

"Shit," He muttered under his breath. His other hand went to grasp the edge of the counter.

"Sorry."

I continued wiping the blood from around his arm and in the wound, the paper turning crimson with each pass. With each swipe, In-hos breaths became more ragged and his knuckles whitened around the counter. I tried wiping that sensitive spot again, but he flinched even more than before.

"God." He tried to pull his arm away from me but my grasp on his arm held firm, keeping him still.

"I'm almost done," I whispered, my eyes locked on his arm. I leaned in closer to get a better view, the space between us narrowing. I was so close our bodies were almost touching, I felt the dull heat of his skin brushing mine.

I dabbed at the deepest spot on his wound, tightening my grip on his arm. I did one final swipe, and he shivered. The cut was still red and raw, but it wasn't bleeding nearly as much as before. I pulled the paper away from his arm and looked up, meeting his gaze.

My heart stopped, suddenly aware of how close our bodies were. Sure, I felt it before, but we were much, much closer than I had thought—I was practically in his lap.

My breath hitched and for a moment I was completely lost in his dark brown eyes. The quiet noise of the bathroom seemed to fade away just leaving us staring at each other, eyes laced with something I couldn't quite name. All I could focus on was the space between us, and how desperately I wanted to close it.

I shifted, however slightly, trying to close the gap between us. I was hyper aware of everything: the coolness of the counter, the soft hum of the lights, the dried blood on my hand, but most of all—I was aware of him. His increasingly steady breaths, his warm body, his cold hands. It was all driving me crazy.

He swallowed, and my eyes instinctively followed the movement of throat, tracing the subtle shift of his jaw.

The silence between us stretched and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. It pushed me down, intimidated me, challenged me. And yet, I wanted nothing more than to revel in it. I loved his attention— I needed it.

It felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown on me as I realized that I always had. Ever since I had started working here, I had always gravitated towards him. Even as he was wearing his black, geometrical mask, I felt drawn to him. And then, when he took it off for the first time—I should have realized it then— I remember the way my pulse raced. I told myself it was just admiration, a harmless curiosity about my superior. But now, it was clear as day. I had fallen for him.

I was completely and utterly smitten with the front man.

The glint in his eyes and very, very, subtle smirk told me that he knew about my revelation. He posed the silent question: What are you going to do?

I hesitated.

What was I going to do? At this moment all I could think about was him. I craved him— every part of him. The ache in my chest was undeniable, burning with the need to close the distance between us.

He sat there completely calm and collected, though his eyes bore into mine revealing a hint of his lost composure. Did he want this too, or was I just projecting?

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but that couldn't be less true with In-ho. What was he thinking? Did he want me just as much as I wanted him, or was the blood loss causing him to not think straight? Was I overthinking again?

My lips parted slightly. I intended to speak, though I had no idea as to what. But then, for just a moment, his gaze flickered down towards my lips. I watched as his eyes traced the curve of my jaw, and went back to my lips, and finally settled on my eyes. A pit formed in my core—the need in his stare was undeniable.

We both sat there, waiting for the other to make a move. The tension between us was irrefutable. And still, I hesitated. What if I did something I couldn't undo, crossed a line that wasn't meant to be crossed?

My pulse raced as I battled with myself, torn between caution and desire.

His gaze never waivered, but neither did mine. The space between us felt fleeting yet endless at the same time. I so desperately wanted to close the space between us, and, for a moment, I imagined it. What could be if I just leaned forward ever so slightly and closed the space, connecting with his lips that looked ever so inviting.

His breaths were slower now, more controlled, but I could see the tension in his jaw. He was holding back —that much was clear by his rigid shoulders and his fingers curling around the counter. His body betrayed him, despite whatever war was going on in his mind. His body wanted this, at least.

Mine did too.

Every subtle movement confirmed what I had denied all this time— he wanted this . A thrill shot through my whole body at the thought. I felt his fingers twitch on the hand with the wound, the arm I was still holding. His fingers grazed the sensitive skin on my wrist and I felt my whole body shiver. My grip on his arm tightened.

Slowly, as if driven by some involuntary force, my gaze flickered to his lips. They were parted slightly—was that an invitation? His expression was as usual—unreadable—but there was a hint of something else there.

Hunger.

Pure, undeniable, hunger.

His gaze sent heat pooling in the bottom of my stomach. It was a slow burn that traveled throughout my whole body, lighting every single nerve on fire. I couldn't look away. Honestly, I didn't want to. His dark gaze pinned me down, holding me captive.

And then I felt it again—the unmistakable draw to his lips. My breath caught in my throat as I leaned in, slowly, utterly captivated by him. His lips were just within reach, so close I could feel the heat radiating from them...

BANG!

The door to the bathroom was slammed open, shattering the moment between us. I practically flew up from out of his lap and stood up straight, brushing invisible dust from my clothes. In-ho cleared his throat and shifted slightly, careful not to move his arm.

Gi-hun came in the room first, followed by Jung-bae, Dae-ho, and player 222 brought up the rear. My gaze turned towards their red patches on their shirts. I was going to question how the vote turned out, but by the solemn looks in their faces, I figured the O's won.

Gi-hun seemed to read my mind, "33 X's to 37 O's."

I let out a heavy sigh and ran my clean hand through my hair. As the others questioned In-ho, I tried to avoid thinking about the subtle smirks on their faces. No doubt, they were thinking about what me and In-ho 'did' in the bathroom at night.

Me looking so disheveled right now surely did not help their suspicions.

I ripped the other sleeve off my jacket and turned towards In-ho. The fabric was worn, but it would have to work as a makeshift bandage. I grabbed his arm and started wrapping the fabric around it. He was conversing with the others, but I couldn't be bothered to listen. I was too focused on his wound, too worried I would mess up bandaging it.

Starting at his wrist, I wrapped it around his arm until I reached the top of the cut. The fabric was thin and flimsy, but I managed. Then, I tucked the remaining fabric into the wrap and prayed it would stay secure.

"How's that?" I asked, and everyone turned to look at me, and then at In-ho as he tested it. He hesitantly moved his arm up and down, testing how well the bandage worked. To my surprise, it stayed secure on his arm, not moving an inch.

"Good," He moved his arm side to side, "That's perfect. Thank you, yeobo."

I had to stifle a blush from spreading on my cheeks, "Just don't move that much, I don't know how well it will hold up."

He nodded, and the others said something about being hungry and how they are going to start distributing food soon. They all started filing out of the bathroom and soon, it was just him and I again. All of the tension from earlier was gone, replaced by something warmer, something comfortable.

He shifted on the counter and I held out my hand. Without hesitation, he took it and I steadied him as he slid off the counter. Once both of his feet were on the floor, I held onto him for a second to make sure he was stable before turning my attention towards the sink. I needed to rinse the dried blood from my hand— it was starting to itch.

My hand reached towards the faucet and turned on the warm water. In-ho watched from his spot by the door as I lathered my hands, washing them in the water. The water momentarily turned red as the blood dripped from my hands, swirled down the drain, and disappeared, leaving the clean water in its wake. I dried my hands and made my way toward where In-ho stood.

Just as I was about to step through the doorway, In-ho held out a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned towards him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were intense, though no longer filled with that same hunger from earlier. Now, they were more thoughtful, almost caring.

"I'm sorry, for earlier." He swallowed, before continuing. "I didn't mean to embarrass you like that, but that was the only thing to get them off our backs."

I couldn't help the blush that creeped up my cheeks at the memory. I averted my gaze, looking at a particularly interesting spot on the floor.

I didn't know whether it was the exhaustion I felt or if the tension from earlier still had not entirely dissipated, but something in me stirred— a quiet need to challenge him, to push the boundaries. I took a chance, "You'll just have to make it up to me sometime."

The moment the words slipped from my mouth I regretted them. I didn't even want to meet his gaze—what was he thinking? But, there was no taking them back now, so I decided to hesitantly look at him, a faint smile traced the corners of my lips.

He returned my smile with more of a smirk, one eyebrow raised slightly, "Oh?"

He cocked his head, "What do you have in mind?"

My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't thought that far ahead. Hell, I wasn't expecting to ask him that at all, let alone him to actually respond.

"I... dont know." I said, trying to sound indifferent though my heart was racing. "I'll have to think about it."

He hummed in response and his eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer than normal before he moved his arm, letting me pass. We walked back to the main hall without a word, but the silence was rather comforting.