Chapter 3 Na-ri and Jae-Hyun - Chapter 3

Jae-Hyun watched her flip over, his eyes tracking the movement with a cold, clinical intensity. He didn't offer a hand to help her up; instead, he waited until she was settled before stepping back into her space.

"You're groaning now," he noted, his voice a low, mocking drawl. "What happened to that 'I'm fine' attitude from ten minutes ago?"

He knelt beside her again, his presence looming and oppressive in the humid air. He didn't immediately touch her, letting the silence stretch between them, thick with the memory of everything they had once been. His gaze dropped to the curve of her hip and the tension in her legs.

"The left side is always worse for you," he murmured, almost to himself. It was a slip—a glimpse of the intimacy he claimed to have forgotten. He quickly masked it with a harsh expression. "Leg up."

As she complied, Jae-Hyun gripped her thigh with a firm, possessive strength, his tattooed arm flexing as he guided her leg back onto the roller. "Don't just lay there like a dead weight, Na-ri. Engage your core or you're just bruising yourself for nothing."

She wanted to snap but kept her mouth shut. It would be too easy to fall back into the old friction of their ruined relationship especially when there had been no real closure.

Just get through the session, Na-ri she thought to herself. Then you don't ever have to see him again.

She gritted her teeth and pushed herself to continue.

Jae-Hyun didn't miss the way she gritted her teeth. He leaned over her, his presence an oppressive weight that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the humid room. He didn't offer a word of praise for her endurance; instead, he watched her struggle with a cold, predatory focus.

"Still playing the martyr," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. "You always did love the feeling of suffering in silence. It makes you feel superior, doesn't it?"

He suddenly reached down, his large hand gripping her hip with a bruising strength to keep her from sliding off the roller. The contact was electric and unwelcome, a sharp reminder of how well he knew exactly where she was most vulnerable.

"Enough," he commanded, his tone snapping back to a clinical chill. He released her abruptly and stepped back, crossing his arms over his tattooed chest. "Get up. I'm done with the mobility work. Now we move to stability."

He pointed toward a set of unstable balance discs. "Get over there. If you wobble, you start over. And Na-ri?" He paused, his dark eyes scanning her with a flicker of something that looked like old hunger masked as contempt. "Try not to let your pride trip you up this time."

Jae-Hyun watched her walk toward the balance discs, his gaze lingering on the slight stiffness in her gait. He didn't say a word, but the silence was heavy, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with physical therapy.

"Step up. Both feet," he commanded, his voice low and devoid of warmth.

As Na-ri balanced herself on the unstable surface, Jae-Hyun stepped in close—far closer than a professional trainer needed to be. He didn't touch her, but he stood just behind her, his chest nearly brushing her shoulder blades. The heat radiating from his body was a sharp contrast to the coldness of his words.

"Close your eyes," he murmured, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. "I want you to find your center without relying on your sight. If you tip, I'll catch you. But if you can hold it for thirty seconds..."

He paused, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in slightly more. "I might actually consider you 'recovered'."

She closed her eyes and focused on her center.

Jae-Hyun stood perfectly still, his breath ghosting over her neck. He didn't move to touch her, but the proximity was a calculated torture. He could hear her breathing, see the slight tremble in her shoulders as she fought to maintain her balance on the unstable disc.

"Ten seconds," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to hum right against her skin. "You're swaying, Na-ri. Your center is off."

He shifted slightly, his chest now brushing against her back, the heat of his body radiating through their thin workout clothes. He didn't wrap his arms around her; instead, he placed his hands lightly on her waist—not to stabilize her, but to feel the tension in her core. His grip was firm, his fingers digging slightly into the soft dip of her waist.

"Twenty seconds," he whispered, his lips almost touching her earlobe. "Still fighting it. Still trying to be the perfect soldier."

He let out a slow, deliberate exhale that sent a shiver down her spine. "Five more... and then we'll see if you can actually handle what comes next."

That was the final straw. Stepped of the discs to create space as quickly as possible, her heart thundering in her chest.

What the fuck was that!? She thought, shaking her hands out.

"I am done." She spoke up, forcing herself to keep her voice calm and steady. "I have already paid for the appointment. I will rebook another session."

She grabbed her things quickly, refusing to look at Jae-Hyun as she made her escape. She had no intentions of coming back, at least not to be coached by Jae-Hyun. She thought being in a room alone with him was doable but she quickly realised it was as safe as a little match touching gasoline.

Jae-Hyun didn't move to stop her. He remained exactly where he was, leaning against the weight rack, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched her frantic retreat with a cold, clinical detachment, though a flicker of dark satisfaction danced in his eyes. He had known exactly which buttons to press to make her unravel.

"Rebook?" he called out, his voice echoing through the humid gym, sounding smooth and devoid of any remorse. "You can't even handle a thirty-second balance test without running for the door, Na-ri."

He let out a low, quiet chuckle that sounded more like a sneer. He didn't follow her; he simply stood there in the dim light, the silhouette of his tattooed arm stark against the grey walls.

"Go on then," he added, his tone dropping to a dangerous, knowing whisper that carried across the room. "Run back to your desk. But we both know you're not healed—and it's not just your hip that's broken."

As the heavy double doors slammed shut behind her, Jae-Hyun finally let out a long exhale. He looked down at his palm, still feeling the ghost of the tension in her waist, and a slow, predatory smirk spread across his face.