Chapter 4 – Payback

Eric found them behind the convenience store, the same place he’d first seen them cornering Sunwoo. Three guys, laughing, smoking, the smell of cheap cigarettes clinging to the damp air.

The moment they spotted him, their smirks faltered.

“Well, well,” one of them sneered, trying to act tough. “If it isn’t Mr. Hero. Come back to play?”

Eric’s lip curled. “Play? You think beating on someone smaller than you is fun?” His fists clenched at his sides. “Try me instead.”

One of them scoffed. “What, because we touched your little boyfriend?”

The world went red.

Eric lunged before the guy could blink, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. “Say that again.”

The others moved, but Eric’s glare stopped them cold. His fists trembled with restraint—barely. He could end this in seconds, but his head wasn’t clear. All he could see was Sunwoo’s bruised face, the way he’d tried to brush it off, the way he’d muttered, This probably happened because of you.

His grip tightened. “You touch him again, and you’ll regret it.” His voice was low, deadly serious. “I don’t give second warnings.”

The guy stammered, trying to shove him off, but Eric only released him when he heard the crack of fear in his voice.

He stepped back, shaking out his hands. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. Rage still clawed at him, but he forced it down, shoving it behind his usual wall of indifference.

Later that evening, Sunwoo spotted him by the school gate, leaning against the railing like nothing had happened.

“You look like you murdered someone,” Sunwoo muttered.

Eric smirked, though his knuckles were red. “Relax. They’ll live. Probably.”

Sunwoo narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t—”

“I told you,” Eric cut him off, voice calm but sharp. “No one else gets to touch you.”

The words hit Sunwoo harder than the thugs’ fists ever had.

“…You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” Eric leaned closer, smirk curling. “But you’re mine to mess with. Don’t forget that.”

Sunwoo rolled his eyes, but his racing heartbeat betrayed him.

Sunwoo’s eyes lingered on Eric’s bloodied knuckles. “…You’re insane,” he muttered, trying to sound detached. His voice cracked anyway.

Eric clicked his tongue, shoving his hands into his pockets like nothing mattered. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s just some trash getting taken out.”

Sunwoo’s lips pressed thin. He hated himself for noticing—but Eric’s hands were shaking, just slightly. Not from fear. From holding back.

“Tch. Idiot,” Eric muttered under his breath, turning away. “Should’ve told me sooner if someone was bothering you.”

Sunwoo blinked. His heart stuttered. That wasn’t Eric’s usual mockery—it was too sharp, too heavy, like he was blaming himself.

“…Why do you even care?” Sunwoo asked, voice quiet, almost drowned by the wind.

Eric froze, shoulders tensing. For a long second, he didn’t answer. Then, without looking back, he said, low and rough:

“Because I do. Don’t make me say it twice.”