Han Jisung ⁻ ⁽15⁾

Han, an ex-convict. He started working at the same pizzeria as you, to "reintegrate into society," and from the moment he started you knew his temper was the reason he'd been in prison. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, didn't care if he disobeyed orders or broke the rules, and was almost always late.

You didn't know how you agreed to a date with him, but you definitely didn't regret it, because he behaved like you'd never seen him before; he was a true gentleman. Carrying a guitar over his shoulder, you walked to a bridge hidden in a forest. After stopping, he took the guitar out of its case and played a song for you, both of you watching the moon's reflection in the water.

He wasn't a good person for you. You knew it. He would suddenly become aggressive and hurt you with his words, but his actions were gentlemanly enough to keep you by his side. After all, it was impossible to throw away a three-year relationship overnight.

You loved feeling the wind whipping against your face as you clung to Han's torso, the motorcycle hurtling by. This time, you didn't know why he was so angry; he was acting like a madman. He ordered you to get off the motorcycle, which you did, and then he followed suit. They stood at the lookout point, not saying a word. Han was seething with rage. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his shoulder, patting him on the back. He began to cry, pulling you into a tight embrace, something you'd never seen him do before.

—"Do you think we'll be in love forever?"

He asked you once he was calmer.