Jisung didn’t waste a second. He walked with light, quick steps to Suno’s office, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. The corridor was empty, and luck was on his side. He slipped inside just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Suno’s phone was on the desk, right where Jisung had seen him leave it. He picked it up and unlocked it with ease. No one could ever question how he knew the passcode.

.

.

.

He had been watching Suno closely for days. Pretending to be nonchalant whenever Suno used his phone. He had even taken the bold step of sitting beside him in the dining room during breaks, something that had surprised everyone, including himself. 

His heart pounding, his hands gripping his tray too tightly. 

‘Ah, the things you make me do,’ Jisung thought, shaking his head at his own audacity. 

“What is it, bunny? Why are you sitting beside me?” Suno had asked, one eyebrow raised in amusement.  

“I have the right to sit wherever I want,” Jisung shot back, feigning indifference. But his ears had burned, betraying him.

Suno had rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything more. And every time Suno had tapped in his passcode, Jisung’s eyes had watched closely, memorizing the movement of his fingers. It took patience and a lot of nerve. 

.

.

.

But now, it was paying off.  

  

Jisung scrolled through Suno's history calls, searching carefully for an unregistered number that matched the date they had gone to the flower shop. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. Jisung’s heart raced as he memorized the number, his fingers trembling slightly.

The door swung open. Shit! Suno stood there, arms crossed, his expression a mix of suspicion and amusement. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Jisung forced himself to breathe, his mind scrambling for an excuse. He turned to face Suno with practiced nonchalance. Jisung cleared his throat, his mind racing for an excuse. “I came to ask you about the case of the woman we went to investigate,” his voice steady despite the lie.

“That case is mine, Jisung. It doesn’t concern you,” Suno’s gaze didn’t waver.

“I just wanted to help you,” Jisung shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Suno said firmly.

“As you wish.”

Without another word. With a confident stride, he brushed past Suno and out of the office. His smirk barely concealed. His heart was still racing, but he wouldn’t let it show. It was almost pitiful, how easy it was. The mere idea of Jisung encroaching on his work made Suno stupid so fixated on territorial posturing that he became blind to everything else. He hadn’t even glanced at his own phone on the desk. Suno had walked in too late, Jisung had already gotten what he came for. He had slipped in, taken the number, and walked out completely undetected.  

Flawless.

But the moment he was alone in his own office, the confidence wavered. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a brief second as he let out a slow breath. His hands weren’t shaking, but he could still feel the residual adrenaline humming through his veins.  

Crossing the room, he pulled out his phone and quickly typed in the number he had memorized moments ago, saving it before he could second-guess himself. The digits stared back at him, glowing on the screen. So simple. Just a sequence of numbers.  

And yet, his fingers hovered.  

Jisung swallowed, his thumb hesitating over the call button.  

‘What if I’m bothering him?’  

‘What if he already has someone?’  

‘What if he doesn’t even want to hear from me?’  

His mind spun with every possible scenario, none of them ending well for him. He wasn’t usually the type to hesitate, but this was different. This man -this one man- had left him undone in ways he hadn’t fully processed yet.  

But he had come this far. There was no point in backing out now. Before doubt could sink its claws too deep, Jisung took a sharp breath and pressed the button.  

The phone rang.  

Once.  

Twice.  

Three times.  

Each second stretched unbearably, his heartbeat a frantic rhythm against his ribs. His grip on the phone tightened. His mouth felt dry.  

And then..

**“Jisung.”**

The voice was deep, smooth, and unmistakably familiar. The mere sound of it sent an unexpected shiver down Jisung’s spine.  

He opened his mouth—  

But the line went dead.  

Just like that.  

Jisung froze. He blinked at his phone, confusion clouding his mind. He barely registered the fact that the man had recognized him, had spoken his name like he had been expecting this call.  

Instead, all he could focus on was the abrupt silence. “What just happened?”  

A strange mix of emotions stirred inside him, disbelief, frustration, disappointment. Had the call dropped? Had the man hung up on him? If he had, why even answer in the first place?  

Jisung clenched his jaw, inhaling deeply as he tried to steady his thoughts. Without another second of hesitation, he hit redial. This time, the phone didn’t even ring. Straight to voicemail. His fingers tightened around the device. He tried again.  

Voicemail.  

Once more.  

Voicemail.  

Jisung exhaled sharply, his pulse still unsteady. His gaze lingered on the phone, irritation flickering in his chest. “So that’s how it is?”  

(⁠◍⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠◍⁠)

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