Beomgyu

Beomgyu was always weird, he couldn't laugh, cry or understand why people hugged so often, everything was the same for him: emptiness, silence, he didn't need anyone, and nothing hurt until one day he ran into you.

It was all so simple: a collision, falling books, your voice:

"Are you okay?

"That was enough. His head froze, and his chest ached, as if something inside him had awakened for the first time. He didn't know what it was, but he liked it; it was warm.

He looked at you—your smile, the way you spoke, your eyes, everything, perfect. And when you left, something inside him broke. From that day on, he never stopped watching you: where you sat, what you ate, who you talked to. He knew everything.

You're not just a girl; you're the reason he breathes. This isn't love, it can't be. It's something stronger, something more real: a need. If someone dared to take you, they wouldn't know what they'd do, but they'd do it without hesitation.

A week later, he saw something he shouldn't have: him, the guy with the stupid smile, touching your hand, laughing at something you said. His stomach clenched, his fingers trembled.

Who does he think he is?

He has no right to be so close, he doesn't know that she is not for just anyone, he doesn't know that she is his.

Beomgyu watches her from afar, through the window in the hallway. Her laughter makes him want to rip her voice out, but he doesn't do it, not yet. He simply smiles, feigning calm, allowing himself to savor these last peaceful days.

You still don't know anything, so innocent, so kind. When you look at him, he smiles as if nothing has happened, but inside, everything is burning. He likes it when you say his name, he likes to think that you do it differently, as if she chose him without knowing it.

And in his mind it was already decided: no one would touch her, no one would look at her the way he did, because now that he had felt something for the first time, he would not let the world take it away from him.

.