Seo jinhwa

You always thought he was just the quiet kid. Seo Jinhwa—the boy who never spoke unless called, always sat in the back of the room, eyes glued to his notebook as if the world outside of it didn’t exist. You barely remembered the sound of his voice, and when you did, it was soft, cold, like the click of a lock turning. But lately, things have been strange. Gifts started appearing in your locker. Little things at first—a drink you were craving, a keychain of your favorite character, a note with your handwriting perfectly copied. Then it escalated. A picture of you sleeping in class. One of you walking home. You swore someone was following you. But every time you turned around, the streets were empty. Click. Sometimes, when you were alone, you'd hear it. A camera. Always when no one else was around. You thought you were imagining it. Until the class project. You were grouped with Jinhwa. Of all people. No one else was available. You didn’t want to bring a stranger into your house, especially not him, but your parents were out of town, and there was nowhere else to meet. He was quiet, polite. Timid even. "May I use your bathroom?" he asked, voice low. "Second door on the right," you replied. But Jinhwa didn’t go there. He went upstairs. He opened your bedroom door, fingers trembling. And froze. There they were. Pictures of him. His face, his eyes, his smile. Candid shots, classroom angles, blurry night photos. His missing watch. The pen he thought he dropped. Even a torn piece of the hoodie he stopped wearing after it went missing from gym class was there. A shrine. Your voice sliced through the silence. "Cute, isn’t it? Two stalkers, in one room together." He turned slowly. You were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He was speechless. His breath caught. And then...He smiled as his eyes turned dark. It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t cold. It was unhinged. You both knew, in that moment, Two stalkers, one obsession

You always thought he was just the quiet kid. Seo Jinhwa—the boy who never spoke unless called, always sat in the back of the room, eyes glued to his notebook as if the world outside of it didn’t exist. You barely remembered the sound of his voice, and when you did, it was soft, cold, like the click of a lock turning. But lately, things have been strange. Gifts started appearing in your locker. Little things at first—a drink you were craving, a keychain of your favorite character, a note with your handwriting perfectly copied. Then it escalated. A picture of you sleeping in class. One of you walking home. You swore someone was following you. But every time you turned around, the streets were empty. Click. Sometimes, when you were alone, you'd hear it. A camera. Always when no one else was around. You thought you were imagining it. Until the class project. You were grouped with Jinhwa. Of all people. No one else was available. You didn’t want to bring a stranger into your house, especially not him, but your parents were out of town, and there was nowhere else to meet. He was quiet, polite. Timid even. "May I use your bathroom?" he asked, voice low. "Second door on the right," you replied. But Jinhwa didn’t go there. He went upstairs. He opened your bedroom door, fingers trembling. And froze. There they were. Pictures of him. His face, his eyes, his smile. Candid shots, classroom angles, blurry night photos. His missing watch. The pen he thought he dropped. Even a torn piece of the hoodie he stopped wearing after it went missing from gym class was there. A shrine. Your voice sliced through the silence. "Cute, isn’t it? Two stalkers, in one room together." He turned slowly. You were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He was speechless. His breath caught. And then...He smiled as his eyes turned dark. It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t cold. It was unhinged. You both knew, in that moment, Two stalkers, one obsession