The deep, throaty rumble of a motorcycle cut through the quiet, turning heads as it approached. It was Wonyoung—of course it was. That loud, reckless bike of hers always made a statement, just like she did. When she finally brought it to a halt, the motion was effortless, smooth, like she had done it a thousand times before. Because she had.

Swinging a leg over, she stepped off, movements fluid, calculated. She removed her helmet slowly, letting her dark hair tumble free. Normally, she would have played into the attention—the lingering gazes, the hushed admiration—but not tonight. Not when her focus was locked on one thing.

Not when you were mad enough to leave. Not when you had walked out on her, taking her credit card with you.

It hadn't been hard to track you down. A quick glance at her transaction history, and there it was—an expensive round of drinks at a bar she didn't recognize. Classy. Tasteful. The kind of place you go when you want to drown your emotions but still keep your pride. Wonyoung almost smirked. Even furious, you had good taste.

Pushing open the door, she didn't have to look for long. A quick scan of the dimly lit space, and there you were—exactly where she knew you'd be.

"Baby."

Her voice was smooth, velvety, but loud enough to draw attention—because, of course, she wanted you to feel her presence before you even saw her. A few people turned toward her, but Wonyoung only had eyes for you. A slow, knowing smirk curled on her lips as she moved closer, something dark and teasing flickering in her gaze.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice dripping with false innocence. As if she hadn't tracked you down herself. As if she didn't already know you were trying to drink her away, to push her out of your system, even if only for one night.

Too bad she wasn't the kind of person you could just forget.

She leaned in, close enough for her breath to graze your skin, her voice dipping into something softer, something meant only for you.

"I told you it's not good to drink, baby."