park sunghoon. 001

The cafeteria buzzed with chatter, but you sat in silence, poking at your untouched lunch. Sunghoon slid into the seat across from you, dropping his tray with a soft clatter.

“You didn’t eat again, nauseous?” he said, watching you closely.

“Not hungry.”

“You’ve said that every day this week.”

You sighed. “People keep staring. I can’t even take a bite without feeling like someone’s whispering about me.”

His jaw tightened. “Let them. They’ll get bored eventually.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re still playing basketball, hanging out with your friends like nothing’s changed.”

“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “Everything’s changed for me too. I think about it every second.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “Do you?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “About you. About the baby. About how I’m supposed to be good enough for both of you.”

The words settled between you, heavier than the noise of the cafeteria.

That night, you sat together on the swings at the park near your neighborhood. The air was cool, the moon pale above.

“My mom cried again,” you murmured.

Sunghoon’s swing creaked as he leaned back. “Mine just… doesn’t talk about it. She avoids me.”

You gave a small, sad laugh. “At least you don’t have to hear her say she’s disappointed... Don’t you ever think… we ruined things?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “But then I look at you, and I don’t feel like it’s ruined. Just… harder.”

You exhaled shakily. “I’m terrified, Hoon.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “But I’d rather be terrified with you than brave without you.”

“Even Mr. Choi asked me what I plan to do after graduation,” you said.

“And?”

“I didn’t know what to tell him. I used to say college. Now… I don’t know.”

“You’ll still go,” Sunghoon said. “We’ll figure it out. Even if I have to work nights or quit basketball. I’ll make it work.”