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Chapter Text

The first day of college always carried with it an odd kind of silence. Not the absence of sound since there were plenty of that: shoes squeaking against the newly polished floors, nervous laughter spilling down the hallway, and the occasional shuffle of papers clutched too tightly, but a silence that lingered inside Jungwon. 

He wasn’t the type to expect much from days like these. No grand new beginnings, no serendipitous encounters. Just another routine to figure out, another set of strangers to sit beside, another classroom where his name would be called and quickly forgotten. People often mistook him for being aloof, the kind who deliberately built walls just to look unbothered. But the truth was simpler, and lonelier: he wasn’t good at reaching out. Words often stayed stuck in his throat, feelings trapped between ribs, and by the time he thought of something worth saying, the moment had already passed. 

He adjusted the strap of his bag as he stepped into the lecture hall, eyes sweeping over unfamiliar faces already clustered into small groups. Some were laughing too loudly, already comfortable in their own skin; others fidgeted with their phones, trying to look occupied. Jungwon, as always, found the empty corner seat near the window. It was safer that way, no one ever bothered the quiet kid by the window.  

The hum of conversation rose when the professor entered. He wasn’t alone. Another voice trailed after him, younger and lighter, like sunlight slipping in through the blinds.

Jungwon looked up. 

The boy stood at the front with three others, friends by the way their shoulders leaned into one another with ease. Jungwon caught names as introductions began; Riki, Jake, Sunghoon, but the name that clung to him was Sunoo.

Sunoo spoke like laughter woven into syllables, like every word carried its own kind of brightness. His voice wasn’t loud, but it had the kind of clarity that made Jungwon forget the rest of the room existed. His smile lingered a little too long after he finished speaking, a curve so natural it almost seemed unreal. 

And Jungwon couldn’t look away. 

It was strange, the pull he felt. They weren’t friends, not even acquaintances, just two people breathing the same air in the same room. Yet something about Sunoo held him still. The tilt of his head when he introduced himself. The small pout when Jake teased him mid-sentence. The spark in his eyes when the class laughed at a joke he didn’t even realize he made. 

Jungwon should’ve looked down at his notes, focused on the schedule written on the board, or anything else. But his gaze betrayed him, tracing every detail as though he were already sketching Sunoo in his mind; shapes and shadows, the curve of his lips, and even the slope of his nose.

It wasn’t love. Not yet. But something quiet began to stir in him that day. 

When the introductions ended and Professor Jay started explaining the syllabus, Jungwon found himself only half-listening. His pen hovered above his notebook, unmoving. Instead, he pressed the word into the top corner of the page, soft and careful, like a secret.

Sunoo.

And even after he closed the notebook, the name remained, echoing inside him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

________________________________________ 

Professor Jay’s voice filled the lecture hall, smooth and practiced, speaking of color theory and the weight of perspective in art. He gestured with his hands as he spoke, pacing slowly across the front, each word sinking into the air with the certainty of someone who had lived through every lesson he was teaching. 

Jungwon should have been taking notes. He should have been listening, nodding along, underlining important terms the way he saw the others do. His pen hovered above the lined page, ready to obey. But all it took was one glance forward, and his hand stilled. 

Three seats in front of him sat Sunoo.

His posture was careful, shoulders slightly hunched as he leaned closer to his notebook. The pen in his hand moved quickly, as though afraid the words might vanish if he didn’t catch them in time. Every so often, his hair would fall across his forehead and he’d blow it away with a small huff, lips pursed, only to fall back into concentration. 

The lecture blurred. Professor Jay’s explanations turned into background noise, like static on a radio while Jungwon’s world sharpened into the small details only he seemed to notice. The way Sunoo tapped the back of his pen against the desk when he was thinking. The tiny crease between his brows when he couldn’t keep up. The soft laugh that escaped him when Jake whispered something from the seat beside him. 

Jungwon found himself tracing the curve of Sunoo’s cheek with his eyes, memorizing the way light caught against his skin. He wanted to sketch it right there, right then but the risk of being seen kept his hand frozen. Still, in his mind, he drew: a quick outline, a shadow, a line curved into a smile. 

The clock ticked louder than Jay’s voice, each second stretching, dragging the morning into something eternal. 

______________________________ 

By the time lunch arrived, Jungwon felt the weight of solitude pressing against him. He had no one to walk with, no familiar group to join. It didn’t bother him much, he had already planned to eat somewhere quiet, somewhere overlooked, where he could hide away with his sketchbook and silence.

But as he stepped into the hallway, a sound stopped him mid-step. 

Sunoo’s laugh.

It rang brighter than the chatter of students, carried down the corridor like a melody he had been waiting to hear without knowing it. Jungwon’s chest tightened, and before he could think better of it, his feet moved. Not toward the empty corner he’d planned for, but toward the noise, toward the cafeteria crowded with voices and trays clattering against tables.

He hated crowds. But today, his body didn’t care.

The cafeteria was loud, buzzing with energy, every seat filled with clusters of students. Jungwon spotted Sunoo almost instantly, he was easy to notice, surrounded by Riki, Jake, and Sunghoon. They laughed around him like they had known each other for years, even though it had only been hours. Sunoo fit there naturally, as though the space had been carved out for him from the start. 

Jungwon slid into a seat in the far corner, angled just enough to catch glimpses of him without drawing attention. He pulled out his notebook, opening to a blank page. His hand trembled faintly as he set his pen against the paper. 

He wasn’t doing this to be creepy, he told himself. He wasn’t drawing Sunoo to claim him, or to capture him like some object. He was just preserving something fleeting, something fragile. A laugh. A glance. The way his hands moved when he gestured mid-story. 

Every line Jungwon sketched felt like a secret he wasn’t supposed to keep. And yet he did.

By the time his tray of food sat cold in front of him, the page bore the outline of Sunoo, unfinished, imperfect, but alive in a way that words could never be.

________________________________  

The day stretched on with more introductions, more professors. Heeseung appeared for another course, warm and approachable, but even his humor couldn’t cut through the fog in Jungwon’s mind. 

When the final bell rang, Jungwon packed his things slowly, almost reluctantly. The world outside had turned soft with the colors of late afternoon, and he walked home with the quiet thrill of someone carrying a secret. His notebook stayed tucked under his arm, but every so often, he would open it, just for a second, just to see the sketch again. 

He smiled down at the page, foolish and unguarded, the way schoolchildren did when they clutched love letters they would never send. His heart beat lighter with each step, as if the sketch itself had given him something to hold on to. 

By the time he reached home, the smile hadn’t faded.

“What happened to your first day at uni?” his mother asked from the kitchen, her voice casual as she stirred a pot on the stove.

“Mm,” Jungwon replied, slipping his shoes off. “Introductions. Syllabus. The usual stuff.” 

She glanced over her shoulder. “That’s it? Nothing new? No friends?”

He shrugged, setting his bag down by the stairs. “It was… fine. Just the boring first-day routine.”

He didn’t mention the boy whose laugh had followed him out of the cafeteria. He didn’t mention the sketch folded carefully inside his notebook, hidden like a secret pressed between pages. 

Not because he didn’t want to. Not because he didn’t trust her. But because he wasn’t used to saying things like that out loud. Some feelings, he thought, were safer when kept quiet. 

Later that night, when the house fell into silence, Jungwon sat at his desk. He opened the notebook once more, fingertips brushing lightly over the pencil lines that shaped Sunoo’s face.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungwon went to sleep smiling.

Chapter Text

The second day of classes carried the weight of routine already beginning to form. The walk to campus felt shorter, the halls less intimidating, the air a little easier to breathe. But for Jungwon, none of it mattered much. He kept his steps even, his expression neutral, blending into the tide of students as he slipped into the classroom. 

He told himself today would be the same as yesterday; quiet, uneventful, invisible. But the universe had a cruel sense of humor.

Professor Jay stood at the front of the room, papers in hand, glasses slipping down his nose. “Alright,” he announced, clapping once for attention. “For this project, you’ll need to work in groups of three. I want collaboration. I want creativity. Don’t just pair up with your best friends, okay? Challenge yourselves.” 

The class stirred immediately, whispers rising like restless waves. Groups were already forming; friends leaning toward each other, names being called, hands tugging on sleeves.

Jungwon stayed where he was.

He hated this part. He hated the way the room seemed to split into clusters, while he lingered on the outside. His mind raced, but his body stayed frozen, as though moving would only make him look more pathetic. Should he approach someone? Should he wait for someone to ask him? Would anyone ask him? 

His throat tightened. He adjusted his grip on his notebook, retreating toward the back of the classroom. Standing there felt safer, though he wasn’t sure if he was waiting for a miracle or simply prolonging the inevitable rejection. 

From his vantage point, he saw them, Sunoo and his circle. 

They were huddled together, voices overlapping as they debated. Jake gestured animatedly, Riki shook his head, Sunghoon sighed dramatically, and in the middle sat Sunoo, looking increasingly exasperated.

“It’s a group of three, not four,” Jake argued, tapping the edge of his desk.

“Then we’ll just ask to bend the rules—” Riki started.

“No, Jay’s strict about this,” Sunghoon cut in. 

Sunoo let out a soft sigh, his shoulders sinking as though the weight of his friends’ stubbornness had finally gotten to him. And then… he looked up. 

Jungwon froze.

For a terrifying second, he thought their eyes had met. But no, it couldn’t be. Sunoo must’ve been looking at the paintings hung on the back wall. That had to be it. People didn’t just look at Jungwon like that. 

But then Sunoo smiled.

Small, unassuming, the kind of smile that seemed to fold the air around it into something warmer. And it was directed at him.

Jungwon’s heart thudded so loudly he was sure the entire room could hear it. His palms grew damp, his breath shallow. He scrambled for explanations, maybe Sunoo smiled at everyone, maybe he was just being polite, maybe Jungwon was in the way. Anything but the truth pressing against his ribs.

And then Sunoo stood. 

He walked past his friends, weaving through desks until he stopped directly in front of Jungwon. Up close, the boy’s presence was overwhelming, the brightness of his eyes, the easy tilt of his posture, the softness in his voice when he spoke. 

“Do you… want to join my group?” Sunoo asked.

Jungwon blinked. His brain stalled, words catching like static. He wanted to answer, but all he could hear was the erratic beat of his heart.

“Um,” he managed, throat dry. “Sure.” 

The word felt clumsy, too small for the storm inside him. But Sunoo’s smile widened anyway, and in that moment Jungwon swore he could have floated off the ground.

“Great,” Sunoo said, gesturing back to the others. “It’ll be us three, then.”

Us.

Jungwon followed quietly, still dazed, as they began to rearrange themselves. Jake, Riki, and Sunghoon regrouped together, their argument settling once the numbers finally worked out. That left Sunoo stepping away from them, a small sigh escaping his lips before he moved closer to Jungwon.  

Beside them, another classmate, someone whose name Jungwon didn’t catch slid into the seat, completing their trio.

And just like that, it was set. Sunoo, Jungwon, and a stranger. 

The project outline blurred in front of his eyes. The chatter of his group faded into background noise. All Jungwon could think about was the warmth of that smile, the way his chest ached as if something new had taken root there.

For the rest of the class, he said little, nodded when spoken to, pretended to focus on the task at hand. But every now and then, his gaze betrayed him, flicking toward Sunoo like a compass that couldn’t help but point north.

_________________________________ 

Professor Jay adjusted his glasses, holding up a stack of papers that rustled as he handed them to the first row. “Listen closely, everyone. This project is not just about technical skill, it’s about vision.” He tapped the board with the tip of his pen. “You’ll be combining photography and painting. The goal is to capture scenery, but not just any scenery. I want creativity. I want you to take something ordinary and make it extraordinary.”  

The papers made their way down the rows, students already murmuring in excitement or groaning in dread.

“You’ll photograph your chosen scenery, then interpret it into a painting. Think beyond the obvious. A tree is just a tree until you find the right angle, the right light, the right story behind it. You have one week to complete it. Be smart with your time.”

A week.

The words sank into Jungwon like a stone thrown into water, rippling through him in waves of disbelief. A whole week. That meant meetings, discussions, planning sessions and time. Time with Sunoo.

He ducked his head, hoping no one could see the way the corners of his lips tugged upward before he forced them back down.

Jay dismissed them to begin discussing within their groups, and almost immediately Sunoo straightened in his seat, eyes bright with determination. He turned toward their little trio, his presence instantly taking charge in a way that was both natural and gentle. 

“Okay,” Sunoo began, his voice soft but clear, “so we need a scenery that’s not just… plain. Something that tells a story. It could be a park, or maybe even the city streets at night. I think we should research a few places and decide together.” 

The unnamed classmate nodded eagerly, already scribbling ideas. Jungwon, however, could barely form a thought. His hands were clasped too tightly around his notebook, knuckles pale. He wanted to say something useful, anything that didn’t make him look like dead weight. But when Sunoo’s gaze flicked toward him, waiting for input, his throat closed. 

“J-Jungwon?” Sunoo tilted his head, patient. “What do you think?”

Jungwon’s mind blanked. He opened his mouth, but what came out was a jumble. “Uh—I, um—I think—scenery is—good—uh, I mean—yeah.”

Silence. His ears burned. He wanted the ground to open up beneath him, swallow him whole, anything to erase the pathetic mess he had just made of himself.

But then Sunoo laughed.

Not mocking, not cruel, just a soft, melodic laugh that filled the space like sunlight slipping through curtains. His shoulders shook lightly, and he covered his mouth as though trying not to make a big deal out of it. 

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, you know,” Sunoo said, smiling, his tone warm enough to melt the mortification clinging to Jungwon’s skin. “I don’t bite.” 

Jungwon’s heart lurched, thudding against his ribs. He wanted to curse himself, wanted to demand why he couldn’t just speak like a normal person, but Sunoo’s reassurance only made his chest ache more. How could he be so kind?

“R-right,” Jungwon mumbled, looking down quickly. He tried to steady his hand as he jotted something aimless in his notebook, anything to look occupied.

Sunoo didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notebook. “Anyway, how about this, we meet outside the university tomorrow? It’ll be easier to brainstorm if we’re not cramped in here. We can look up some spots tonight and share ideas.”

The other classmate agreed immediately. Jungwon nodded too, perhaps too quickly, like his body had answered before his brain could.

“Great,” Sunoo said brightly. “Tomorrow after class, then. Let’s meet at the café near the main gate.”

Jungwon sat still as his group shifted to lighter chatter, his mind buzzing louder than anything happening around him.

Outside the university. Tomorrow.

It felt almost like fate, like the universe had finally decided to give him something. A chance but not much, not anything close to what he secretly wished for but enough to hold onto.

He stole one more glance at Sunoo, who was busy doodling little shapes on the corner of his notebook while humming softly under his breath.

And Jungwon thought: if the universe was truly in his favor, he hoped this week would never end.

______________________________________________________ 

Jungwon trudged home with the weight of his bag digging into his shoulder, but for once he didn’t care. His head was too full, buzzing like static. The classroom scene replayed in an endless loop: Sunoo’s laugh, the curve of his smile, the way he’d said you don’t have to be nervous around me. 

By the time he reached his house, his mother had already set dinner out. He barely muttered a greeting before sitting down, shoveling food into his mouth without really tasting it. It was almost mechanical, spoon, bite, chew, swallow. His brain was elsewhere, in that little café near the university gate, imagining tomorrow and all the possible ways he might embarrass himself again. 

When his plate was empty, he washed it quickly and darted straight to his room. He shut the door, tossed his bag to the corner, and flopped onto his bed with his phone in hand. 

Okay, focus, he told himself. Research. Places. Ideas. Be useful.

But before he could even type a single keyword into the search bar, his phone buzzed.

A notification.

He glanced down. His heart nearly stopped.

Sunoo has added you on KakaoTalk.

For a moment he thought his eyes were tricking him. He blinked, rubbed at them like some cartoon character who’d just seen gold coins glimmer in the distance. But no, it was real. Sunoo’s name was there, his profile picture, a sunny candid with his friends, staring back at him.

Jungwon’s throat went dry. His thumb hovered, trembling slightly. Of course, he knew why. Sunoo had added him because of the group project. There was no special meaning, no hidden intention. It was a necessity. Practicality. 

And yet, Jungwon grinned like a fool, falling back against his pillow with a laugh bubbling up in his chest.

Because this meant one thing: if he ever wanted to, he could message Sunoo. Anytime. About anything.

Not that I would. That’s ridiculous, he thought. But I could. Like… I could accidentally ‘wrong send’ him. Pretend it was for someone else. God, that’s such a dumb idea.

He laughed harder, covering his face with one hand as if embarrassed in front of no one but himself. Still, the thought of it thrilled him. Silly or not, it was enough.

Another buzz. This time, a group chat notification.

Sunoo has created a group chat: Project — Group 5.
Participants: Sunoo, Daniel, Jungwon.

Jungwon’s eyes flicked to the third name. Daniel. So the nameless classmate wasn’t going to remain faceless anymore. He scrolled up to see Sunoo’s message. 

Sunoo: hi guys! let’s use this to share ideas and updates for the project ☺️

Immediately, Daniel replied.

Daniel: got it 👍 i’ll start looking for some good scenery spots near campus 

Jungwon sat frozen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wanted to reply quickly, not seem uninterested, but also didn’t want to look overeager. His stomach twisted as though he were about to take a plunge off a cliff.

He finally typed:

Jungwon: okay 👍 

He stared at the little text bubble. So plain. So boring.

Ugh, I’m pathetic, he groaned inwardly, burying his face in his pillow again.

But then, another message popped up.

Sunoo: thanks jungwon! let’s all try to list down at least 2-3 places tonight so we can compare tomorrow 💡 

His name. Sunoo had typed his name. Jungwon felt ridiculous for how warm his chest grew over such a simple thing, but it didn’t matter. It mattered to him. 

He scrambled upright, determination renewed. He opened his laptop, pulling up maps, travel blogs, and old photography posts. Parks, riversides, rooftops with city lights, even a tucked-away greenhouse café. He typed each option carefully into the chat. 

Jungwon: maybe the riverside? It's close by and has a nice view at sunset.
Jungwon: also found a greenhouse café, lots of plants and glass windows… might be cool for lighting.

Daniel responded quickly:

Daniel: the greenhouse café sounds unique 👀 i like that idea 

And then came Sunoo’s reply.

Sunoo: ooo that DOES sound good! jungwon you’ve got an eye for this 👏 

Jungwon stopped breathing. He reread it five times. You’ve got an eye for this. From Sunoo. Directed at him. Complimenting him.

His cheeks burned hot. He dropped his phone onto the bed, rolling onto his back with a strangled sound that was half laugh, half groan.

The chat went on, stretching longer than Jungwon expected. They tossed ideas back and forth, Daniel was efficient, Sunoo enthusiastic, and Jungwon… he tried, fumbling but managing to contribute here and there. Every time Sunoo replied to him, Jungwon’s chest swelled, a balloon threatening to burst. 

The hours slipped by unnoticed. His room grew darker, his only light the glow of his phone screen. By the time he realized it was late, his eyes were sore, but his heart—his heart felt lighter than it had in months. 

Lying back against his pillows, he scrolled up through the messages one last time, lingering on Sunoo’s little smiley faces and cheerful exclamations.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a group chat for a school project. Nothing more, nothing less.

And yet, for Jungwon, it was everything.

As he finally drifted off to sleep, his phone clutched loosely in his hand, one thought carried him into his dreams:

This might just be the happiest night of my life.

Chapter Text

The third day of classes felt no different for most students. The same hallways filled with chatter, the same clatter of shoes against tile, the same scramble to finish assignments that were somehow already piling up.

But for Jungwon, today was anything but ordinary.

He woke up earlier than usual, lying in bed with the ceiling fan humming above him and his heart beating a little too fast for a normal school day. His phone sat on the nightstand, dark and silent, yet he kept glancing at it as if Sunoo’s name might suddenly light up the screen. It was silly and ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. 

By the time he reached campus, his steps were lighter. He pretended it was just a regular day, but inside, he was buzzing. The thought of the café meeting after class made every boring lecture, every long minute, worth sitting through. 

When class finally ended, Jungwon lingered by the doorway, trying not to look too eager as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Sunoo waved at him, that sunshine smile breaking across his face like it had been waiting just for Jungwon.

“Let’s go?” Sunoo asked. 

Jungwon could only nod, his voice lodged somewhere deep in his throat.

The café was warm and cozy, tucked just outside the campus gates, the kind of place students claimed as their own secret study spot. The smell of roasted coffee beans lingered in the air, blending with the sweetness of pastries lined up in the glass display. 

Sunoo led the way, and Daniel trailed behind, already flipping through something on his phone. They found a table by the window, where the afternoon light spilled in golden streaks across their notebooks. 

“So,” Sunoo started brightly, pulling out a pen, “we need to finalize where we’ll shoot for the project.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair. “The riverside’s too crowded. Everyone and their mother takes pictures there.”

“It’s still a classic,” Jungwon muttered, surprising himself by speaking up. His eyes flicked toward Daniel, expecting to be ignored.

Instead, Daniel smirked. “Oh, so you do have opinions. Thought you were just gonna sit there like a silent bodyguard.”

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. “I can talk. I just don’t waste my words.”

“Sure,” Daniel teased, sipping his iced Americano. “Real man of mystery.”

Sunoo laughed at the exchange, clapping his hands softly. “You two are funny.” His voice was light, teasing, but warm enough that Jungwon’s chest squeezed.

They tossed around more ideas, debating locations until Sunoo tapped the table with his pen. “What about the greenhouse café? It’s a bit out of the way, but the light is amazing. We can photograph the scenery and capture how it changes at different hours.”

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “That could work.”

“It’s settled then,” Sunoo said, scribbling notes. “Let’s visit the spot today to check, and then we’ll come back tomorrow for the actual shoot. We’re free tomorrow, right?”

Jungwon nodded quickly, a little too eagerly. “Yes. I mean—yeah, I don’t have classes.”

“Great!” Sunoo beamed at him, and just like that, Jungwon felt stupidly lucky again.

The greenhouse café was every bit as pretty as the photos Jungwon had seen online. Glass walls stretched high, framing the sky like a painting. Sunlight poured through, bathing the plants and flowers in soft gold. The air smelled faintly of soil and jasmine, warm and alive. 

Sunoo and Daniel moved around, testing angles with Sunoo’s phone, pointing out spots that would make good backdrops. Jungwon followed at first, nodding along, but soon his hands itched for his notebook. 

He found himself at the edge of the room, sitting near a potted monstera, pulling out his sketchbook like it was second nature. His pencil slid across the page almost on its own. Not the flowers, not the glass walls, not the elegant light that framed the whole place, just Sunoo.

Sunoo, tilting his head as he studied the plants.

Sunoo, laughing at something Daniel said.

Sunoo, sunlight brushing the edges of his hair like a halo. 

Jungwon sketched quickly, his heart pounding in his ears, terrified someone would notice. Terrified—but also thrilled. It felt like bottling the moment, keeping it safe in graphite lines.

“Jungwon?”

He froze. His head snapped up. Sunoo stood a few steps away, brows lifted curiously.

Panic shot through him like lightning. He slammed the notebook shut, hugging it to his chest so quickly he almost dropped it.

“Y-Yeah?” His voice cracked embarrassingly.

Sunoo tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing. You just looked… focused. Didn’t want to bother you.”

Jungwon swallowed hard, heat crawling up his neck. “Oh. Yeah. Just… notes.”

“Notes?” Daniel snorted from across the room. “What are you, a spy?”

“Shut up,” Jungwon muttered, glaring at him.

Sunoo just laughed again, bright and unbothered. “You two are funny,” he repeated, shaking his head before walking back to Daniel.

Jungwon exhaled shakily, his pulse still racing. He opened his notebook just slightly, enough to glance at the half-finished sketch. Sunoo’s smile stared back at him in pencil strokes. He bit back his own grin, heart swelling in his chest.

He was a fool. A hopeless, ridiculous fool. But in moments like this, he didn’t mind one bit.

The walk back from the greenhouse café was calm, the kind of golden hour quiet where the streets softened and every sound felt muted. Students spilled out of nearby stores, laughter echoing faintly, but Jungwon barely registered any of it. His mind was still full of the glass walls, the sunlight, and most of all, the boy who had smiled at him like it was nothing, and everything at once.

“Tomorrow then,” Sunoo said cheerfully as they reached the bus stop. He lifted his phone like a reminder. “We’ll meet at the front gate, twelve sharp. Don’t forget your cameras, notebooks, brushes, basically everything, okay? I don’t want us to waste time running back for supplies.”

Daniel nodded. “Got it.” 

Jungwon, who had been staring at Sunoo like he hung the moon, snapped himself back to reality. “O-Okay. I won’t forget.”

Sunoo smiled at him, just a normal, polite smile but Jungwon felt it down to his bones.

They parted ways soon after, Sunoo reminding them one last time before waving goodbye and disappearing into the crowd. Jungwon’s chest was light, his footsteps carrying him all the way home as if on air.

Dinner came and went, but he hardly tasted it. Once in his room, Jungwon pulled out his sketchbook immediately, flipping to the unfinished page from earlier. He studied the faint lines of Sunoo’s hair, the curve of his smile, the way the light had kissed his shoulders. Slowly, carefully, he filled in the details. 

Every pencil stroke felt like a confession he’d never dare speak aloud.

When he finished, he leaned back, staring at the drawing until his lips curved into a foolish grin. His phone buzzed on the desk, the sudden glow making his heart leap.

Sunoo?

He snatched it up quickly, pulse racing, only to see a different name.

Daniel.

The message was short, direct.

Daniel: you look so obvious, i wonder why he hasn’t noticed your stares yet 

Jungwon froze, the blood rushing in his ears. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, his mind scrambling. Obvious? He’d been careful and subtle. Or at least, he thought he had. His stomach twisted with embarrassment.

Finally, he typed back, fingers stiff.

Jungwon: …you don’t have to say anything about it
Jungwon: let’s just keep it a secret

The reply came almost instantly.

Daniel: fine, i’ll keep quiet
Daniel: but only if you treat me to ice cream after the shoot tomorrow 🍦

Jungwon stared at the little emoji. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Seriously?”

But the alternative, Sunoo finding out, was far worse. With a heavy sigh, he typed back.

Jungwon: …fine

Daniel’s only response was a thumbs up, as casual as if they’d agreed to something meaningless. Jungwon tossed his phone aside and buried his face in his pillow, groaning again.

Obvious. I’m not obvious. Am I?

Sleep came slowly that night, tangled up with nerves and the faint thrill of seeing Sunoo again.

The next day, Jungwon was up hours before the meeting time. His bag was packed neatly; camera, brushes, sketchbook, all double-checked twice. The clock read 10:30 a.m., though they weren’t meeting until noon. Still, he left the house early, muttering to himself, a good impression, I need to make a good impression.

By the time he arrived at the gate, he was the only one there. He leaned against the railing, trying not to look too much like he was waiting specifically for someone.

Thirty minutes later, footsteps approached. Jungwon looked up and there he was.

Sunoo. Hair slightly mussed from the wind, sweater sleeves pulled down over his hands, a bright smile on his face as he spotted Jungwon. Somehow, he looked twice as adorable as usual, which was saying something.

“Morning!” Sunoo greeted, even though it was already close to noon. “You’re early.”

Jungwon’s ears burned. “I just… didn’t want to be late.”

“That’s cute,” Sunoo said simply, brushing past him to lean on the railing as they waited for Daniel. Jungwon nearly combusted on the spot.

The shoot at the greenhouse café went smoothly. Sunoo directed with ease, adjusting angles, snapping photos with excitement written all over his face. Daniel handled the technical details, while Jungwon stayed nearby, trying to be useful but mostly sneaking glances at Sunoo whenever he thought no one was looking.

Unfortunately, Daniel was looking. More than once, Jungwon caught him smirking, eyes glinting like he knew exactly what was going through Jungwon’s head. Each time, Jungwon’s stomach knotted, his cheeks warming, but he forced himself to ignore it.

After the last set of photos was taken, they gathered near a table inside, reviewing the shots on Sunoo’s phone.

“This one,” Sunoo said, tapping a photo of the café framed against the sunset, with a couple visible through the glass, sharing coffee. His eyes sparkled. “I think this could be our main piece. There’s a story in it already.”

Daniel nodded. “Yeah. It’s not just about the scenery, it’s about the people too. We should call it First Love. Not just the couple inside, but the way you fall for the café, the sunset, the whole feeling of seeing it for the first time.”

Sunoo’s face lit up. “That’s perfect.”

Jungwon swallowed, nodding along. The words first love echoed in his mind, heavier than they should’ve been.

They finalized the concept, Sunoo scribbling notes before glancing at the clock. “I have to go or else my dad will kill me if I’m not home by eight.” He packed quickly, flashing them a quick smile. “See you tomorrow!”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving the other two behind. 

“Well,” Daniel said, stretching. “Guess it’s time for you to buy me ice cream.”

Jungwon groaned. “Do I really have to?”

“A deal’s a deal.”

They ended up at a small shop a few blocks away, cones in hand as they sat on the curb outside. Jungwon licked at his vanilla scoop in silence, but Daniel was watching him with that same unreadable look from earlier.

Finally, Daniel broke it. “So. Sunoo, huh?”

Jungwon stiffened, his spoon clattering against the cup. He glared at Daniel. “Can you not?”

“I’m just saying,” Daniel said casually, taking a bite of his own chocolate cone. “You’re not exactly subtle. The way you stare at him—it’s like you’re trying to memorize his face every second.”

Jungwon’s shoulders slumped. He wanted to deny it, brush it off, but the words tangled in his throat. Instead, what came out was quiet, almost a whisper.

“…I know it’s one-sided. I’m not stupid. I just… I don’t know. He makes everything feel lighter. Like I can breathe easier just being around him.”

Daniel looked at him, and for once, there was no teasing in his eyes. Just quiet understanding. “That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. He’d expected mockery, not comfort.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” he muttered, staring at his ice cream. “I don’t usually—open up like this.”

Daniel shrugged. “Maybe because you needed someone to hear it. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Something in Jungwon eased at that, a small knot loosening in his chest. He didn’t know why, but he believed him.

They sat there in silence, eating their ice cream as the night settled in around them, two unlikely confidants bound by one secret, Sunoo, and the quiet love neither of them spoke aloud again.

Jungwon parted ways with Daniel just as the night breeze began to pick up, the faint sweetness of ice cream still lingering on his tongue. He walked the familiar streets home with his hands in his pockets, the cool air brushing against his cheeks, but inside he was burning. Every step carried with it a replay of the day, the laughter in the café, the golden shimmer of the greenhouse under the sunset, the way Sunoo tilted his head while peering through his camera. Even the teasing glances Daniel threw at him earlier. Everything stitched itself together into a day Jungwon wanted to bottle up and keep forever. 

By the time he reached his house, he realized he was smiling like an idiot again. His mom, who peeked from the kitchen as he slipped inside, raised an eyebrow, but he quickly ducked into his room before she could comment. He tossed his bag onto his bed and collapsed into the chair by his desk, resting his chin against his hand. The sketch he finished of Sunoo last night sat on top of his notebook, the lines crisp and clean, Sunoo’s expression frozen in graphite. He ran his fingers lightly over the page, as if it were a precious relic, and whispered under his breath, “I really need to get a grip…”  

Just as he was sinking into that thought, his phone buzzed. The notification banner made his stomach flip when he saw KakaoTalk – Group Chat. His pulse quickened as he unlocked it. 

Sunoo had sent a message.

Sunoo: Hey, about the painting part of our project. Who wants to help me with it? I'm not asking everyone since one of us still needs to do the reporting part. 

Jungwon’s eyes widened, his throat suddenly dry. Sunoo was asking for help. With him. His hands hovered above the keyboard, unsure whether to volunteer or stay silent in fear of sounding desperate. He was still overthinking it when another message popped up.

Daniel: Why not Jungwon? He's the one who suggested the spot anyway, and he’s really good at drawing. I think it’ll turn out better if he does it. 

Jungwon’s heart slammed against his ribs. For a second, he thought he misread it, but no—Daniel had just casually handed him the opportunity he didn’t even dare dream of out loud.

And then came the next line.

Sunoo: That's a good idea!! 😄 if that’s okay with you, Jungwon. we can do it at my place, I've got all the brushes and paints we’ll need. 

Jungwon froze. His chair creaked as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. At his place. The words rang in his head like a bell. He could feel the edges of a grin tugging at his lips, so wide it almost hurt. He wanted to scream into a pillow, to punch the wall, to run laps around the block until this restless, giddy energy burned out of him. But instead, he pressed his phone tightly against his chest, forcing himself to inhale and exhale slowly.

Finally, with hands trembling, he typed:

Jungwon: Yeah, that’s fine. I'll help with the painting.

Simple. Plain. Devoid of the chaos happening inside him.

Sunoo responded almost immediately.

Sunoo: great!! thank you, Jungwon ☺️ we’ll figure out the schedule tomorrow.

Jungwon let out a groan, muffling it into his pillow this time. His heart wasn’t going to survive this. He sat up again, eyes flickering back to his phone when another notification arrived, this time a private message.

Daniel.

Daniel: You're welcome, btw. don’t say i never did anything for you.

Jungwon blinked, then quickly typed back:

Jungwon: …thank you for being the love god and doing the good work. 🙏🏻 

He immediately regretted the dramatic wording, burying his face in his hands. But before he could unsend it, Daniel replied with a laughing emoji and a short message.

Daniel: Then buy me another ice cream next time. 

Jungwon snorted, shaking his head. For the first time in a long while, his chest felt light, like maybe, just maybe, the universe really was conspiring in his favor. And as he leaned back into his chair, eyes drifting to the sketchbook where Sunoo’s face lived in pencil lines, he thought to himself:

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Chapter Text

The fourth day of classes began just like any other, with the shuffle of students filing into their seats, the faint echo of footsteps along the tiled floor, and the scratch of chairs dragging back against the ground. Jungwon sat quietly at his usual place, sketchbook closed but resting on top of his desk, his fingers drumming against the hard cover as if to keep his nerves occupied. 

Jay, their professor, stood at the front with his usual air of calm authority. “I’ll keep this short,” he said, flipping through his notes before snapping the folder shut. “Your project deadline is next week. Don’t forget, it’s not just the artwork that matters, but also your presentation, your ability to explain the creative process behind it. Be ready for both.” 

A few groans rippled across the classroom, some whispered complaints about the tight timeline, but Jungwon only nodded faintly. His mind wasn’t on Jay’s reminders; it was already racing ahead, toward what the day might bring.

Jay glanced at the clock. “I’ll excuse myself now and leave the rest of the period for group discussions. Use your time wisely.” He left with a final wave, the door clicking shut behind him.

Almost immediately, the classroom dissolved into clusters of chatter. Jungwon, still tapping his fingers against his sketchbook, looked up in time to see Sunoo weaving through the aisles. His heart jumped.

And then Sunoo sat down beside him.

“Hey,” Sunoo greeted, cheerful as always, his bag dropping softly onto the floor. “About the painting part…” He leaned closer, his voice casual, as if the proximity between them was nothing unusual. “Do you think we can start on it today? We’re out earlier, so we’ll have more time before it gets too late.”

For a second, Jungwon’s brain blanked. His pen slipped from his hand and clattered softly onto the desk. Today? He wasn’t ready—not mentally, not emotionally—but every fiber in his body screamed not to waste the chance.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep eye contact, though his ears were burning. “Y-yeah. Sure. Today works.”

Sunoo smiled, satisfied. “Great. After class, then?”

Jungwon nodded too quickly, mentally cursing himself for looking so eager. He tried to focus on the “discussion” they were supposed to be having, but really, all he could hear was the steady, deafening beat of his heart. 

Their walk toward Sunoo’s house after class was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The air carried the warmth of the late afternoon sun, the shadows long on the pavement as they walked side by side. Sunoo hummed softly under his breath, a little tune Jungwon couldn’t place, while Jungwon’s mind spiraled in endless loops.

Act normal. Don’t stare too much. Don’t trip over nothing. Don’t embarrass yourself.

Yet despite the frantic self-reminders, he found peace in the silence. The simple rhythm of their footsteps matched in sync, the gentle breeze brushing past them, the way Sunoo occasionally tilted his head to glance at shop windows as they passed, it all stitched together into a moment Jungwon wanted to stretch forever.

When they arrived, Sunoo stopped in front of a large gate, pressing a code into the keypad. The iron bars slid open slowly, revealing a house that made Jungwon’s jaw slacken.

It was huge.

The kind of house with wide, open lawns and tall windows that caught the sunlight like glass. Yet despite its size, there was something curiously plain about it. The hedges were neatly trimmed, the façade clean, but it lacked warmth, no flowers by the windows, no welcome mat at the door. A house impressive in scale, but almost too perfect, too polished, like it was missing a pulse.

Inside, Sunoo led him down a hallway and opened a door to what could only be described as an art sanctuary.

Jungwon froze at the threshold.

Canvas after canvas leaned against the walls, filling the room with color and texture. Some paintings were abstract swirls of blue and red, others delicate landscapes, and still others portraits with eyes so alive they seemed to follow him. The air smelled faintly of acrylics and turpentine, a sharp but oddly comforting scent.

“Wow…” Jungwon whispered before he could stop himself. “It’s like… a museum.”

Sunoo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I paint a lot whenever I have time. Or when I’m bored. I guess it just piles up after a while.”

Jungwon’s gaze drifted to an easel tucked into the corner. On it was an unfinished canvas, still just an outline, the faint sketch of a man’s figure waiting to be fleshed out. The lines were delicate but deliberate, the beginnings of something that already carried weight.

Curious, Jungwon tilted his head. “Is this…?” 

“Oh, that?” Sunoo followed his gaze, lips curving faintly. “It’s supposed to be a gift. I haven’t finished it yet, though. I don’t know when I will.”

Something tightened in Jungwon’s chest, but he quickly looked away, forcing a small smile. “It’s… beautiful. Even like this.”

Sunoo didn’t reply, just gave a soft hum before pulling out another blank canvas and setting it up. “Let’s start with ours.”

The work began with Jungwon sketching their chosen scenery onto the canvas, pencil lines flowing with careful precision. His hand moved steadily, though his heart was far from calm. Beside him, Sunoo gathered paints, the faint sound of brushes clinking in jars. 

Then came music. A soft tune filled the room, delicate and melancholic, wrapping around the air like smoke. Jungwon’s hand stilled. He knew the song.

“First Love” by Utada Hikaru.

It played on repeat as they worked, Sunoo humming faintly along with it.

“Do you like this song?” Jungwon asked at last, unable to ignore it anymore.

Sunoo’s brush swept gently across the canvas, laying down the first streaks of color. “Yeah. It’s my favorite. I heard it when I met my first love.” He laughed lightly, as if it were nothing more than a passing memory. “That was a long time ago, though. I just like the song now.”

Jungwon’s throat went dry. He lowered his gaze back to his sketch, willing his hand to stay steady. First love. Someone before. Someone who isn’t me.

The thought pressed against him like a weight, heavy and unrelenting. He told himself it didn’t matter, that it was in the past. And yet, bitterness crept in, curling at the edges of his chest. He didn’t say a word, he just drew, silently screaming inside where no one could hear.

I wish… I could be that for you. Even just once.

Time slipped away unnoticed until Sunoo finally leaned back with a sigh. “It’s getting late. Let’s stop here for today and continue tomorrow.”

Jungwon blinked at the clock, surprised at how quickly the hours had dissolved. He nodded, reluctantly putting down his pencil.

Sunoo smiled and gestured toward the door. “I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”

The evening air was cool as they stepped outside, the quiet of the neighborhood wrapping around them. The walk was calm, easy, and though Jungwon’s insides were a storm of fluttering wings, he forced himself to match Sunoo’s casual pace.

When they reached the bus stop, Sunoo turned to him with that bright smile that always made Jungwon’s knees weak. “Thanks for today. I actually had fun, kind of like a mini painting date, huh?”

The word hit Jungwon like a thunderbolt.

Date.

His face went red instantly, heat crawling up to his ears, but he scrambled to keep his expression neutral. Sunoo, oblivious, just waved casually. “See you tomorrow!”

Jungwon managed a stiff nod, heart hammering so hard he thought the whole street might hear it. As Sunoo walked away, the boy’s silhouette bathed in the glow of the streetlamps, Jungwon slumped onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.

A painting date. He called it a painting date. I’m doomed.

But even as he groaned at himself, he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

The bus ride home felt lighter than usual, the rhythm of the wheels against the pavement keeping pace with Jungwon’s quiet humming. He replayed the day’s moments over and over again; the teasing glances from Daniel, the soft curve of Sunoo’s smile as he leaned over their canvas, the casual way “mini painting date” had left Sunoo’s lips like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

By the time Jungwon reached his stop, he was grinning like a fool, clutching his bag close to his chest as if it held something fragile. His steps quickened as he made his way down the familiar street. He couldn’t wait to flop onto his bed, finish the sketch of Sunoo he’d left half-done, and maybe, just maybe reread the group chat messages until sleep claimed him. 

But the moment he pushed the front door open, that lightness shattered.

The house wasn’t quiet the way it usually was at this hour. Instead, muffled voices floated from the kitchen, his mother’s shaky sobs, and another voice. A voice Jungwon hadn’t heard in years.

His blood ran cold.

There, sitting at the kitchen table, was his father.

The same father who had walked out one morning without looking back. The same father whose absence had hollowed out their home until every corner felt like an echo. He was leaning forward, elbows braced on the table, speaking low and urgent, while his mother sat with red-rimmed eyes and trembling hands wrapped around a half-empty cup of tea.

For a second, Jungwon froze in the doorway, his breath stuck in his throat. His mind scrambled to process the sight, the man’s familiar jawline, the tired set of his shoulders, the voice that was both alien and achingly familiar.

Something inside him cracked. 

Years of buried feelings surged all at once; anger sharp as glass, longing that burned like acid, a pain so old and so deep he had almost convinced himself it had dulled. But standing there now, it was fresh. Raw.

The wall he’d built, stone by stone, year after year, crumbled in a heartbeat.

His mother looked up first, startled. “Jungwon—”

“Why are you here?” His voice shook, though he tried to make it firm.

His father turned slowly, eyes soft with something that twisted Jungwon’s stomach. Regret? Guilt? “Jungwon… I wanted to see you. To explain—”

“Explain?” The word burst out like a laugh, bitter and sharp. “After all this time? You just… show up? Do you know what it was like watching Mom cry herself to sleep? Do you know what it was like walking into every school event alone? Do you even care?”

“Of course I care—”

“No!” Jungwon’s fists clenched at his sides, his voice breaking against the weight of years unsaid. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have left. You wouldn’t have made me grow up thinking it was normal to be invisible to you. You don’t get to walk back in like nothing happened!”

The silence that followed was suffocating. His mother reached out as if to calm him, but Jungwon stepped back, shaking his head. His chest heaved, every breath too tight, too heavy.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hear it,” he whispered, voice raw. And before either of them could stop him, he turned and fled up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Inside, the anger melted into something worse, emptiness. He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to ease away the tears that blurred his vision. But they came anyway, silent and relentless.

Why now? Why is it like this?

For the first time in a long while, he felt like a child again; small, unwanted, helpless. 

The next morning, Jungwon moved through his routine like a ghost. His mother’s soft knock on the door went unanswered. Breakfast sat untouched on the table. The world felt muted, drained of color.

At school, the difference was noticeable.

He sat in Heeseung’s class, staring blankly at the board, the professor’s voice nothing more than a distant drone. Even when Heeseung called his name to recite, Jungwon didn’t flinch, didn’t even register it until Daniel nudged him sharply in the side.

“Jungwon?” Heeseung frowned when he finally looked up, dazed. “Are you alright?”

He nodded quickly, muttering a half-hearted apology, and the professor let it go, though his eyes lingered with concern.

Sunoo, sitting just a few rows ahead, turned slightly in his seat, worry etched into his usually bright features. Jungwon’s smile, the one that always lit up his face, even in the smallest ways was gone.

After class, as they packed up, Sunoo lingered by Jungwon’s desk. “Hey,” he said softly. “You don’t look well. Do you want to reschedule the painting today? We can always continue tomorrow if you need to rest.” 

Jungwon hesitated. His first instinct was to say yes, to curl up in bed and shut the world out. But then Sunoo’s eyes met his, warm with concern, and something in Jungwon couldn’t bear to lose this chance.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. “Let’s… let’s continue today.” 

Back in Sunoo’s studio, the atmosphere was different. Yesterday, it was alive with color and quiet comfort. Today, it was heavy, the silence strained. Jungwon sketched mechanically, his pencil moving without life, while Sunoo mixed paints with distracted hands.  

At last, Sunoo broke the silence. “You know… I don’t usually talk about this.” He set down his brush, staring at the half-finished canvas. “But maybe it’ll help if I do.”

Jungwon glanced up, surprised, but said nothing.

“My parents… they moved to the States when I was younger. Didn’t even ask me. One day they were just gone. They left me with my grandparents, and that was it.” Sunoo’s tone was steady, but underneath, there was a tremor. “I guess that’s why the house feels the way it does. Too big. Too quiet. Like it’s theirs, not mine.”

He gave a small laugh, though it was hollow. “My grandparents… They're busy, but they try. They include me in everything. They love me, I know they do. But it’s not the same. It never will be. A part of me… it’s like it died the moment my parents left, and no matter how much love I get now, it doesn’t fill the space they carved out.”

The words hung in the air, raw and unvarnished.

Jungwon’s throat tightened. For a moment, he simply stared at Sunoo, at the way his shoulders slumped as if carrying a weight he’d grown too used to. And suddenly, Jungwon understood. He understood that emptiness, that silent grief of being left behind. 

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out.

“My dad came back yesterday,” Jungwon whispered. His hand tightened around his pencil until the wood bit into his skin. “After years of nothing. Just… appeared in our kitchen, like it was the most normal thing in the world. My mom was crying, and all I could think about was every time she cried when he wasn’t there. I thought I’d moved on. I thought I’d buried it. But seeing him… it was like ripping open a wound I didn’t even realize was still bleeding.”

His voice cracked, and he pressed his lips together, forcing himself to hold it in.

For a long moment, the room was silent. Not the heavy, strained silence of earlier, but something gentler. Sunoo didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell him it was okay, didn’t try to fix it. He just let Jungwon’s words linger, letting them exist without judgment. 

And for the first time in his life, Jungwon felt… heard.

Truly heard.

The pain was still there, sharp and jagged. But in Sunoo’s quiet presence, it didn’t feel as unbearable.

He exhaled shakily, his chest loosening just enough to breathe.

Maybe, he thought, this is what it feels like to not be alone anymore.