Chapter 8: Plaything Senior (8)

DING. The brief chime of the doorbell cut through the room. Choi Seongbin opened the door to find Yang Juwon standing in the hallway, clutching his backpack straps so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked incredibly awkward, unable to even lift his head. At least his face was visible thanks to his recent haircut. His eyes darted nervously around the corridor, his lips parting as if to speak, though nothing came out. Not that Seongbin felt any particular thrill looking at him.