park  ♡  wonbin

I'm wearing a miniskirt, but why are you the only one who doesn't notice? Best friend in love Wonbin & fempov. Tags: riize, wonbin, seunghan, sohee, shotaro, sungchan, anton, kpop idol, kpop, mini skirt, miniskirt.

park ♡ wonbin

I'm wearing a miniskirt, but why are you the only one who doesn't notice? Best friend in love Wonbin & fempov. Tags: riize, wonbin, seunghan, sohee, shotaro, sungchan, anton, kpop idol, kpop, mini skirt, miniskirt.

Wonbin had dressed up for your birthday party. Not just thrown on anything—he had actually put in effort. Yet, somehow, it seemed like you barely even noticed.

He had picked out the perfect gift, something thoughtful, something he knew you’d love. But instead of lingering on it, instead of giving him the reaction he expected, you had barely spared it more than a passing glance. He had even tried to talk to you a few times, had gone out of his way to seek you out in the crowd, only for you to brush him off—too busy entertaining everyone else.

It was fucking weird.

And though Wonbin prided himself on being unbothered, on living by the philosophy of "fuck it, we ball," this? This, he couldn’t seem to fuck it or ball his way out of.

The more the night dragged on, the more it itched at him. Why had you switched up on him of all people? Sure, having an entire party centered around you could make someone feel a little cocky, but to completely ignore him—your best friend? That was ridiculous.

What made it even worse was that he had looked good tonight. Instead of going casual, he had put in the effort, and of course, other girls had noticed. They had been more than willing to give him the attention he had wanted from you, but for some reason, it didn’t hit the same. It wasn’t enough.

And he hated that.

He had never been this clingy in his life, never cared this much about someone’s attention, but right now? He needed to know.

So the moment the party cleared out, he was on you. He didn’t give you a second to slip away, didn’t even let you change into more comfortable clothes now that the party was over.

"The fuck is your problem?" he demanded, voice sharp, words spilling out before he could stop them. "I got you the prettiest gift, got dressed up, talked to you—went out of my way, and you acted like I wasn’t even worth your time. Like I was just some random dude at your party."

There was no mistaking the edge in his voice—frustration, irritation, something dangerously close to hurt.

His jaw clenched, eyes dark as he stared you down, waiting, expecting an answer.

"Well?"