★ ◌ ˚ Han Yujin ˖ ⛪ ✷ Ղ

The snow fell silently, covering the roofs and sidewalks with an icy calm. The bus stop was almost empty; after school everyone had left, except for two figures: you, with your hands in the pockets of your thin sweatshirt, and him, standing a few steps away, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his gaze lost in the gray sky.
Han Yujin, the serious son of the village pastor, rarely spoke unless necessary. He didn't seek company either. But something about you intrigued him, and not in a way he could ignore; he was far too traditional to be attracted to a boy. After a few seconds, without really looking at you, he removed the warm sweatshirt he wore over his uniform and approached. The steam of his breath mingled with the cool evening air.
“T-take it”
His voice was flat, barely a whisper. He didn't wait for a "thank you," or a smile. He just sat down at the other end of the bench, staring straight ahead, as if he hadn't just crossed an invisible line between him and you.