The morning sun glinted off the polished floors of the training camp gym. Ji-hye stood with the rest of the team in matching tracksuits, stretching and chatting, her ponytail swaying gently with each motion. Her smile was easy, her body light—far lighter than it had felt in weeks.
From the sidelines, Joon-ho observed her quietly, arms folded. Beside him, Harin gave a low hum of satisfaction.
"She's moving smooth," Harin whispered. "Looks like someone fixed more than her injury last night."
He gave her a brief look, unreadable, but said nothing.
Ji-hye was warming up, her joints flowing, her muscles uncoiled. Every rotation of her shoulder, every twist of her hips told her the same truth—her body felt right. Flexible. Fast. Almost like she was back at her peak.
She started with basic serves, her palm slapping the ball crisply, the sound echoing through the gym. Then they moved into drills. Spikes. Blocks. Quick step-digs. Ji-hye ran it all.
But every so often, her eyes drifted sideways.
To him.
Joon-ho stood like a wall, impassive but watchful. The memory of his hands haunted her skin. She shook her head quickly and turned her focus back to the court.
It was just a massage. Just... intense muscle release.
But her body remembered how it arched, how her legs trembled under his hands. Her nipples prickled just thinking about it, and she felt her thighs clench involuntarily.
"Fuck," she muttered to herself. "Focus."
When the practice match started, Ji-hye transformed.
She dominated.
Flying blocks. Fluid digs. Spikes that slammed with power and precision. She was fast, relentless, and in total control.
Her teammates shouted her name, laughing in exhilaration. Even the coach barked a loud whistle of approval.
"She's back," someone murmured.
After the match ended and the team broke off into cooldowns and showers, Ji-hye pulled off her sweat-soaked jersey and wiped her face. Her eyes flicked again to the viewing area.
Still there. Watching.
Her heart beat just a little faster.
She knew Harin had noticed too—every side glance, every breath Ji-hye caught when thinking about last night. That teasing smirk on Harin's lips was driving her mad.
Later, the three of them returned to the villa.
Ji-hye collapsed onto the couch with a satisfied groan. "I haven't moved like that in months…"
Joon-ho said nothing, but his eyes flicked to her legs stretched out over the cushions. Harin threw her a bottled water and smirked.
"You were killing it out there. Feeling proud?"
Ji-hye gave a half-smile, then looked at Joon-ho. Her voice lowered. "I'm just… surprised. At how much it helped."
"You mean the massage?" Harin teased, voice drenched in innuendo.
Ji-hye flushed and looked away. "Don't make it weird…"
"Oh, babe. It was weird. But in a good way." Harin winked. "Let's just say, I'm glad it was you this time."
Ji-hye shook her head, hiding her grin behind the water bottle. "It's not like that."
But her eyes slid back to Joon-ho anyway.
He met her gaze—calm, unreadable. Watching.
And Ji-hye's core gave a quiet throb.