itzy's ryujin x txt's beomgyu

the dimly-lit hallway backstage was empty, save for two people lounging near the vending machine. one clutched a peach soda can in her hand, mind racing and heart beating wildly against her ribcage while the other person cornered her in between his outstretched arm that touched the wall and the side of the vending machine with a coy smirk playing against his chiseled face.

ryujin has noticed him staring ever since the start of the show, it's hard not to when he makes it so painfully obvious and uncomfortable to the point where she had to excuse herself in the middle of taping just to get him out of her sight but the damned boy group member had followed her all the way to the back where she just wanted peace and a drink. 

he tells her, whispers dangerously close to her ear more like it, that he's watched her since their debut and that he's mesmerized every time she dances and moves her hips swaying back and forth. he asks her if she has a phone, to which ryujin lies blatantly. 

"no," in her head, she is strong and resistant but her voice comes out weak and cracks at the tiniest movement of his hands that were itching to touch her face.

"sunbaenim," she inhales sharply and both of them whip their heads at the source of the voice who turned out to be a familiar looking gray-haired idol. he looks at ryujin then at the taller male whose hands were just inches away from touching her face but has now retracted them as he took a step backward. "the director is looking for you. he says he needs to discuss your segment in the show." his voice is low and monotonous tha