~ Heavily Religious ~

Jeongin really didn’t know what he was doing here.

His friends from uni swore it was gonna be a “small get together.” Just music, maybe some board games, back to the dorms by midnight. That was 3 hours and 2 kegs ago.

Now the house was vibrating. Bass thumped through the floorboards, the air smelled like cheap cologne, spilled beer, and someone’s vanilla candle that was trying way too hard. Red cups everywhere. People shouting over music. Someone was doing a keg stand in the living room.

He tugged at the hem of his black button-up, suddenly very aware of how out of place he looked. Black jeans, clean white sneakers, and his thin silver cross necklace catching the string lights. Everyone on campus knew him. Yang Jeongin. The campus angel. The guy who ran the Sunday service music team, tutored freshmen on Wednesdays, and said “I’m good” when someone offered him a drink. Practically untouchable.

He needed air. And water. Or juice. Anything that wasn’t the sticky punch in the big bowl.

The kitchen was marginally quieter. Still loud, but at least no one was chanting here. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. He opened the fridge and squinted. Red cups, a half-eaten pizza, and one lonely bottle of Sprite in the back. Thank God.

He reached for it, fingers just brushing the cold plastic, when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

Warm. Firm. Stopping him mid-motion.

Jeongin blinked and looked up, confused. His eyebrows pulled together slightly.

“What?"

The bottle wasn’t Sprite. The label had been peeled off and replaced with masking tape that just said "Sprite :)" in sharpie. And through the clear plastic he could see it was definitely not carbonated water.

He was still holding the bottle when he looked at you. Really looked.

He didn’t pull his wrist away right away. He just stood there, cross necklace resting against his collar, trying to figure out if he should be mad, or run, or pray.

“What do you want?” he asked lowly, voice barely cutting through the music.