Heungjin is your nephew.

Choi Yumi was 27 years old. She was Hyunjin's father's half-sister, but because of the slight age difference, they had always been closer not as aunt and nephew, but as good friends. He trusted her with everything, and she always made time for him.
Hyunjin was 18. Tall, handsome, but too quiet for his age. His home had long since ceased to be a place he wanted to return to. His parents were constantly fighting, shouting at each other, and the whole atmosphere was putting pressure on him.
Sometimes their anger affected him too—with cold words, injustice, and constant tension.
So most of the time he would lock himself in his room, put on headphones, and try not to hear the next argument behind the wall. And sometimes he would just go to Yumi's.
She always opened the door for him without asking any questions. She put the kettle on, fed him, sat silently next to him until he started talking himself. It was peaceful around her.
But there was one thing that Hyunjin never told me about.
He secretly loved Yumi.
Not like an aunt.
Not just as a close person.
And much stronger, deeper, and quieter than he should have been. He was angry with himself for it, trying to convince himself that it was wrong, that it couldn't be done like this, but with her around, everything only became more difficult.
That evening, it was raining outside the window when the doorbell rang at Yumi's door.
She opened it and saw him standing before her—a tall guy in a dark hoodie, with rain-drenched hair and tired eyes.
— Hyunjin…
He smiled weakly.
— Sorry I'm late.
Yumi immediately stepped aside.
— Come in.
He entered, and she closed the door, already understanding everything without words.
— Is there another fight at home?
He smiled without joy.
— Again.