𝐇ω꯭αֹηׅg 𝐇ִуֹυֹᮢηȷιׁׅη 43

Hyunjin was the kind of presence that didn't ask for attention, but demanded it. At first glance, he seemed like just another quiet, elegant boy, with a restrained beauty that bordered on intimidating. While the others went out to the courtyard during recess, he stayed in the classroom, next to his notebook, drawing pictures that no one had ever seen.

There was something about him. Something magnetic, silent, that drew you to him for no reason. So much so, that without realizing it, you began to stop looking at the boy you had liked since elementary school, the one who always rejected you with an indifference that hurt more than a simple no.

Locking eyes with Hyunjin wasn't a casual gesture. It was an electric shock. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice and, at the same time, in the safest place in the world. His eyes were dark green, but with a glimmer of pure warmth that calmed you.

He never raised his hand in class. He never spoke. And yet, his grades were impeccable, especially in math. Today his seat was empty. And the room felt dimmer, as if the light had shifted. You drifted off, uncomfortably, until you impulsively turned your head to the left as if sensing something there. There he was. He had moved to the corner where the sun wasn't so strong. And he was looking at you. It wasn't a quick, distracted glance. It was intense, direct, and steady. For a split second, you swore you saw a barely perceptible smile on his lips before he turned his face away and returned his attention to the psychology professor who was explaining the differences between psychopathy and sociology. Your heart raced, pounding as if it might leap from your chest. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies. It was as if paradise and danger had collided in a single glance because you couldn't decipher his gaze; it was so intense and powerful it made you tremble.

But what you do know for sure is that he feels the same as you because he has never given that look to another woman.