𝑶𝑭𝑭𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 ★ 𝒊. 𝒔𝒂𝒆

004

[name] had always been intense—she knew that. But with Sae, it was different. It wasn't just a mere crush, or just admiration. It was all consuming. He had touched a part of her no one else had, even if he had done it with cold hands and indifferent eyes.

But after the last meeting, the way he looked at her with that expression—like she was just another inconvenience—[name] couldn't take it. The rejection should have stung, but instead, it made her desperation only grow further. She needed to see him again. She needed him to feel something for her, even if it was hatred but indifference was unbearable.

Sae had blocked her everywhere that day. The moment she left, she realized his name was gone from her contacts, her messages wouldn't go through, and his social media? Unreachable. It was a slap to the face. A cold, calculated erasure.

But [name] wasn't the type to let something go.

She scoured his fan accounts, stalking his every move online through them. He had a game in a few days and she knew the location, the time, and even the hotel the team was staying at. She could wait for him outside, catch him before or after the game if possible. But that wasn't enough.

She needed something more.

She created a new account. A fake one. She started messaging him again, sending voice messages with different variations—sometimes sweet, sometimes angry, sometimes just there to remind him she wasn't gone.

You think you can just erase me?

I still exist, Sae.

You can't pretend I don't.

Nothing. No response.

She upped her game. She started posting about him under different names, tagging him relentlessly. She made sure he'd see, even if it was just a glance before he dismissed her.

As she was rummaging through his fan accounts, a post from a fellow fan someone had spotted Sae at a small, private training facility. It wasn't publicized, wasn't meant for fans to know about. But [name] had her ways.

She was going to see him again.

—

The air was thick with anticipation as [name] stood outside the entrance to the facility, her hands clenched into fists to keep from shaking. She was patient, standing behind tinted windows, watching as players filtered in and out. Sae would be here—he had to be.

When he finally emerged, her breath caught in her throat.

Even in something as mundane as a tracksuit, he was breathtaking. He was him. The man who had consumed every waking thought, every late-night spiral.

She stepped forward.

"Sae," she called, loud enough to make him stop in his tracks.

He didn't react at first. Just kept walking in hope his ignorance will dismiss her. But she knew he heard her.

So she ran to catch up, slipping past security before they could register what was happening. She grabbed his sleeve, desperate, eyes wild. "Sae! You blocked me?" Her voice cracked, shaking between anger and despair.

Sae finally turned his head, looking at her with that same detached expression except for it was filled with displeasure and annoyance this time.

"Are you serious?" His voice was quiet, but cutting. "You're still doing this?"

[name]’s heart pounded. She had imagined this reunion a thousand times, but this wasn't how she wanted it to go. "You didn't even give me a chance to talk! You just disappeared."

Sae exhaled sharply, glancing around to check his surroundings. The last thing he needed was a scene. "That's the point."

"No, it's not!" She grabbed at his arm again, tightening her grip. "I know you don't feel nothing, Sae. I know it. If you did, you wouldn't have let me touch you, wouldn't have let me—"

"Enough."

His voice was sharper now, cold steel cutting through her frantic energy. He pried her fingers off him, his grip firm but not harsh. [name] shuddered at the contact, desperate for more and this short term contact was enough to excite her.

"I don't know what you think this is," Sae said, stepping back, "but it's not whatever fantasy you have in your head."

[name]’s throat tightened, her chest feeling like it was caving in. "Then why didn’t you leave yet?" she whispered. "Why are you still standing here?"

Sae didn't answer right away. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—hesitation, irritation, something else entirely. But before she could reach for him again, before she could force an answer out of him—

Security grabbed her by the arms.

"Miss, you need to come with us."

"No! Wait—Sae, please—"

She struggled, her vision tunneling on him, on the way he refused to look back at her as she was pulled away.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

—

[name] didn't need words anymore.

At first, she had been desperate; begging, pleading, forcing herself into his space, into his life. But Sae had proven one thing over and over again: he didn't care. At least, that's what he wanted her to believe.

So she decided to change tactics.

She became a shadow. His shadow.

She didn't try to stop him anymore. She didn't call out his name or grab his sleeve like before. Instead, she followed. Silently. Patiently.

It started with small things, standing outside his training facilities, watching as he left through the back entrance, always knowing exactly which exit he'd take. Then it became more. She learned his schedule, memorized the way he moved, predicted where he'd be at any given moment.

He noticed. She knew he noticed.

She saw the way his shoulders tensed when he passed by her, the way his gaze flickered toward her for just a millisecond before snapping away. Yet, He never stopped, never acknowledged her outright.

However, she believed he cared; if he truly didn't care, he wouldn't react at all.

She followed him through crowded streets, never too close, but never far enough for him to forget her presence or to lose his steps. She lingered near his team's bus after games, watched from a distance as he spoke with his teammates. She never made a move to speak to him, never made a scene like he feared. just waited.

Waited for him to break first.

And every day, she saw him fight the urge.

One evening, after training, she stood outside the facility as usual. Sae exited with his usual cold expression, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His steps were steady, purposeful. But the moment his eyes landed on her standing across the street, he hesitated.

For a second—just a second—his mask slipped.

His lips parted slightly, and his grip on his bag tightened. He wasn't indifferent. He was annoyed. Maybe even unsettled.

[name] smiled.

She didn't move, didn't call out. She simply stood there, letting the silence stretch between them.

Sae exhaled sharply and turned away, walking faster this time, as if distance would erase her presence.

But [name] would still be there tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

She was patient.

She had all the time in the world.

—

Sae had done everything in his power to avoid her.

He ignored her presence, refused to acknowledge the way she lurked at the edge of his vision, never once addressed her directly. If he gave her nothing, she'd get bored and disappear.

That's what should have happened.

But [name] wasn't like the others.

She never begged anymore. She never called out to him. She just existed in his space, pressing against the edges of his carefully controlled world like an unwanted shadow till he breaks.

And now, fate had played a cruel trick on him.

The event was a closed one—only VIP guests, high-profile figures, and selected media outlets. Security was tight, and no ordinary fan should have been able to slip in. Yet, there she was.

Sitting right across from him.

Sae felt his jaw clench as his gaze locked onto her from across the dinner table.

It was a formal gathering, one of those pretentious sponsor dinners where athletes were expected to smile for photos and pretend they enjoyed rubbing shoulders with businessmen who only cared about their marketability.

Sae had been prepared for that.

What he wasn't prepared for was [name], sitting comfortably in her seat, holding a wine glass she hadn't even sipped from, watching him with that quiet, knowing smile.

His stomach twisted. How did she get in?

His manager sat beside him, oblivious to the tension now filling the space between them. The other guests engaged in mindless small talk, laughter filling the air. No one else seemed to realize that an intruder had slipped in among them.

Because that's what she was; an intruder.

Sae exhaled through his nose, his fingers tightening slightly around his fork. He knew ignoring her wouldn't work this time. Not here. Not when she had managed to place herself this close.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair, turning his head just slightly toward her, his expression unreadable. "How did you get in?"

[name] tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Connections."

Bullshit.

Sae knew there was no way she had the kind of influence needed to secure an invite to an event like this. Someone must have helped her, but he had no way of knowing who.

He sighed sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're insane."

[name] didn't flinch. If anything, her smile grew. "Yeah? Why are you talking to me then?"

His eye twitched.

She had finally forced him into a situation where he couldn't pretend she didn't exist. He had to acknowledge her now, and she knew it.

Sae exhaled, his fingers tapping against the table in irritation. "What do you want?"

[name] leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough for only him to hear. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if you'd finally look at me."

Sae's grip tightened around his utensils. This girl...

He could feel the trap closing around him, the realization sinking in that no matter how much he tried to push her away, she always found a way back.

And this time, she had him right where she wanted.