Chapter 5
7 AM. The clear, honey-colored morning sunlight filtered through the glass windows of the architecture workshop, casting long streaks of light across the wooden worktables littered with calipers and blueprints.
James pushed the door open, intending to retrieve a planning file he had forgotten the night before. But the moment he crossed the threshold, his footsteps came to a sudden halt.
At the large worktable in the corner, Juhoon was fast asleep, his head resting on his arms. James's thin jacket was draped over the younger student's broad yet somewhat lean shoulders. Right beside Juhoon's hand sat the flawlessly completed foundation model, every slender balsa wood joint cut and assembled with astonishing precision.
James approached silently. He stared at the model for a moment before shifting his gaze to Juhoon's sleeping face. Normally so arrogant, impulsive, and constantly bristling at the world, Juhoon looked surprisingly docile in his sleep.
James's eyes lingered on Juhoon's sharp features, which were currently drawn with exhaustion from sleep deprivation. He watched him for a long time, subconsciously murmuring in a faint whisper:
"How is his face so small?"
His gaze drifted to Juhoon's fluffy, slightly tousled hair falling over his forehead. The thick black locks looked soft under the morning light, radiating an inviting softness that made one instinctively want to reach out and touch it.
James's expression remained calm and impassive, but inside, a fierce conflict raged: Should I touch it? What if he wakes up, gets annoyed, and I end up causing unnecessary trouble for myself?
Yet, his self-control ultimately lost to the tempting softness before him. James slowly extended his hand, his fingers gently sinking into the cloud-soft hair to brush aside the strands resting on Juhoon's forehead.
"It really is soft..." James whispered softly.
As if sensing the familiar warmth and gentle touch, Juhoon's brow, previously furrowed from tiredness, gradually relaxed. Seeing the younger student's face ease completely, a tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of James's thin lips-a rare, remarkably warm smile.
He gently patted Juhoon's head, running his fingers through the soft hair once more before murmuring in a low, warm voice meant only for the two of them: "You worked hard."
James quickly withdrew his hand, picked up the file from the table, and quietly turned to leave the workshop.
Just minutes after James's figure vanished down the hallway, the workshop door burst open with a bang. Keonho rushed in, gasping for air:
"Juhoon! Wake up, man! It's our team's turn to present in fifteen minutes!"
Juhoon blinked awake, slowly lifting his head. He sat dazed for a few seconds, raising a hand to lightly touch his soft hair where an unfamiliar warmth still seemed to linger. He stared at the thin jacket slipping off his shoulders, his eyes fixing on the empty space as a strange, indescribable ripple stirred in his heart.
The progress report in the main auditorium was intensely nerve-wracking. Under pressure from the panel's tough questions, Juhoon stepped up to the microphone. Gone was the baseless arrogance of his early days; instead, he presented the load-bearing structure with fierce, sharp, and absolute precision-using the exact arguments James had patiently analyzed for him.
Standing beside him, James offered subtle nods of support whenever necessary. The seamless teamwork between the two brilliant minds left the entire room impressed.
That evening, the team gathered at Martin's place for a small celebration.
At their usual round table, Keonho leaned back lazily in his chair, grumbling as he held out a hand: "Seonghyeon, since we finished the presentation today, can I turn in the infrastructure charts next week instead?"
Seonghyeon pushed up his glasses, his face stern as ever, though his hand quietly slid a glass of low-sugar orange juice toward Keonho: "No. Send it to my inbox by 8 PM tomorrow sharp. Drink your juice and go home to work."
Keonho pouted, but dutifully picked up the glass and drank, a faint smile on his lips. It was then that Keonho noticed James's jacket draped over Juhoon's chair. Curiously, he asked, "Hey Juhoon, why is Senior James's jacket with you?"
Juhoon, lost in thought, froze. He didn't answer, merely shifting his gaze toward James standing at the bar counter.
Behind the counter, Martin offered a subtle smile as he pushed a cup of coffee toward James. James accepted it, but his flustered eyes avoided Juhoon's piercing gaze from the dining area.
11 PM. The architecture workshop returned to its familiar silence.
James came back to store a few models. Just as he gathered the blueprints, he heard heavy, rapid footsteps approaching. Before he could turn around, a tall shadow fell over him.
Juhoon stepped forward, planting both hands firmly on the edge of the worktable, completely trapping James in the narrow space between himself and the wooden desk. The distance closed so abruptly that James could feel the heat of Juhoon's breath and the heavy rise and fall of his chest.
"How did I do today, Senior?" Juhoon lowered his voice, his eyes burning with a fierce pride as he locked gazes with James. "Are you finally willing to see me... as a real rival?"
Juhoon's bold advance caught James entirely off guard. His heart skipped a beat. His usual composure was completely shattered, replaced by a clear look of fluster in his eyes.
James swallowed dryly, his eyelashes trembling slightly. Trying to hide the heat creeping up his ears, he placed a hand lightly against Juhoon's broad chest, attempting to push him back to a safe distance, though his hand shook faintly.
"You... you did well. But move your hands back, don't stand so close."
The rare fluster and avoiding gaze from the usually icy senior made Juhoon pause. He didn't step back; instead, his lips curled slightly, his eyes turning razor-sharp as he caught James's unusual reaction: "Senior... are you flustered?"
James stiffened, his shoulders trembling slightly at the sharp call-out. Panic rising, he pushed Juhoon back firmly, brushed past him, and walked briskly toward the door as if fleeing from the perilous proximity.
"Go to sleep. Stop talking nonsense!"
James disappeared down the hallway much faster than usual. In the empty workshop, Juhoon stood watching him leave, his hands clenching into fists. James's fluster and retreat didn't dishearten him at all-on the contrary, it etched a powerful obsession deep into his heart:
James's walls were not as impenetrable as he had once believed, and he would make sure the man fully acknowledged him.
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