"Careful, Jiwon. That almost sounded like you enjoy my company." Ren said calmly.
I blinked, heat rushing to my face.
"I don't—"
"You do." Ren stayed crouched in front of me, expression as neutral as a gallery painting. Nothing about his posture suggested he felt awkward. Which only made me feel more so.
He pulled something from his hoodie pocket—a protein bar, slightly crumpled but intact.
I stared. "Where did you—"
"Turns out having your career implode in public earns you very minor privileges." He pressed it into my hand.
"Nothing glamorous. Just enough to not starve between practices."
I turned the bar over in my palm, guilt warring with gratitude. "Ren—"
"Eat it."
His tone left no room for argument. I tore the wrapper open and bit down.
The taste hit—peanut butter, overly sweet—but my body reacted instantly, desperate for fuel. I chewed mechanically, forcing myself to slow down.
