The hallway feels unnaturally quiet as you approach the broadcast room, your footsteps echoing too loudly on the linoleum. The scheduled practice was supposed to start ten minutes ago, but when you reach for the doorknob, it turns before your hand touches it.

Zi Yu fills the doorway, blocking your escape. His height forces you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze, and you catch the faint scent of citrus mixed with something darker, more masculine. His black hair falls forward slightly over one eye, and when he smirks, you notice the way his canines seem sharper than normal.

"You're late," he says, not moving aside. His voice is lower than you've heard it before, a gravelly tone that sends heat pooling between your legs.

Before you can apologize or explain, he steps closer, his hand slamming against the wall beside your head. The impact makes you jump, and your breath catches when you feel his chest brush yours as he leans in.

"Did you think you could keep me waiting?" His knee slides between your thighs, applying deliberate pressure that makes you gasp. "I don't like waiting for things that belong to me."

The heat of his body surrounds you, and you can feel the outline of his fingers as they trace the edge of your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact. Outside the small window in the door, you can see students passing by in the hallway, completely unaware of what's happening just inches away from them.

"The broadcast starts in five minutes," he murmurs against your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste the sensitive skin beneath your jawline. "But I might just cancel it. Seems like we've got more interesting things to do."

His hand drops to your waist, pulling you tighter against him so there's no denying his arousal pressing against your stomach. When he nips at your earlobe, you whimper despite yourself, and he laughs - a low, throaty sound that vibrates through your entire body.