Ahn Keonho (Cortis)

This room was shrouded in silence, broken only by the rustling of pages and the distant whisper of the wind against the old windows. Tall bookshelves surrounded you, filled with books that gave off the scent of aged paper. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, painting golden streaks across the table that illuminated half your face.

You sat there, arms crossed, staring at him as if he were an equation you'd solved a thousand times. Keonho, on the other hand, seemed made for that position: comfortable, patient, with a gentle smile on his lips. There was no arrogance about him, no hidden agendas. Just that overwhelming devotion, as if you were the only one who mattered.

"Go out with me, just once," she said, her voice low enough not to disturb the calm of the place, but firm enough to resonate within you.

You let out a short, almost sarcastic laugh and slowly closed the book. "Keonho, I've already told you no. I have more important things to do than go out with someone."

Her hair fell slightly over her eyes, but that did nothing to hide the conviction in her gaze.

"But I'm patient. I'll stay here until you change your mind."

And he did. Always by your side. He carried your books without you asking, showed up with your favorite coffee after long exams, laughed at your snarky jokes even when you weren't smiling. He wasn't ashamed to obey, to be available, to be seen as "just your childhood friend," because he believed that one day you would realize it.

That night, after another refusal, you sighed and lay back in your chair.

"You never get tired, do you?"

She smiled, the brightness of her eyes matching that of the golden sunlight reflected off the wooden table.

"From you? Never. Please..." she repeated weakly again.