Min Sanghan’s attitude hadn’t changed, but ever since Min Yugeon had learned early on how not to submit, that suffocating pressure in his chest had begun to ease, if only slightly. The air that once choked his throat finally felt like it was doing its job. Of course, whenever Min Sanghan tried to crush Yugeon’s spirit by treating him like a defiant brat, Lee Minha would step in more sharply than before, and the situation would usually settle down from there.
Then, the day of school entrance arrived—not just a day but a pivotal turning point in Yugeon’s childhood. Before entering school, every day had felt like a monotonous loop, joyless and stifling. But after starting school, life was simply… happy. Being able to spend most of the day with Seo Suho was pure bliss.
He stared openly at Seo Suho as he sat with perfect posture, diligently taking notes during class. The round, chubby face from childhood had long since sharpened into a slender profile, his delicate features harmonizing like a painting. If Min Yugeon’s face looked naturally cheerful, then Suho’s slightly upturned eyes gave him an impression of being aloof—someone with a prickly edge. That image, along with his graceful appearance, made him difficult for most students to approach. And Yugeon liked that very much.
“Look forward, not at me.”
Suho murmured quietly, his gaze still fixed on the open textbook. His low, composed voice carried the essence of his personality.
Yugeon propped his chin on his hand and squinted.
“Nope.”
“Ugh…”
That groan hadn’t come from Suho. Another student nearby had made the sound, clearly disgusted by the two of them. Even under that disapproving glare, Min Yugeon shamelessly grinned at Suho.
Apparently deciding this couldn’t go on, Suho sighed and grabbed the back of Yugeon’s head, turning it forward.
“Cut it out already.”
“Mmkay.”
Only when he felt the pressure of Suho’s grip tightening did Yugeon finally comply. Physical force was Suho’s way of saying he seriously didn’t like it, so it was best to behave when that happened.
Maybe it was because he’d been drawn to Suho since they were little—Min Yugeon had never hesitated to express how he felt. People said feelings could fade, but the longer they spent together, the more his attachment grew. In a world this small, finding someone you genuinely wanted to be with forever felt like a miracle. That’s how Yugeon saw it.
There wasn’t just one reason for this long-standing emotion. At first, it had been Suho’s dazzling looks that made him want to get close, like any child might. But as time passed, it was the contrast—how someone with such a cold demeanor could be so thoughtful and kind—that drew him in deeper and deeper… until one day, every part of Suho became lovable.
…Was “lovable” a weird word to use?
“……”
Yugeon glanced at Suho again.
Suho had grown so much that the tiny boy from back then was barely a memory. Though not quite as tall as himself, Suho was still considered tall. Yugeon was well aware—thanks to the reactions of those around them—that his feelings and behavior weren’t exactly considered normal. The way Suho accepted it all without question made many students assume the two of them were dating.
“What do you think of me?”
And yet, people still approached him.
Min Yugeon looked down at the upperclassman who had called him over while he was exercising during lunch break. The guy was popular thanks to his soft, handsome face. His eyes brimmed with expectation and confidence, like someone used to hearing only affirming words.
But he was dealing with Min Yugeon. Even in a stage of life bursting with hormones, Yugeon had zero interest in romance. No matter who approached him or expressed interest, he never felt a thing. The confessions that came just often enough to be annoying were nothing but a hassle. If he had to stick with someone, it would be Seo Suho—why bother with anyone else?
And this particular upperclassman? He was the clingy type who didn’t know how to take a hint, despite Yugeon having already drawn a clear line. If all his past behavior had been leading up to this, Yugeon found it laughable. He tilted his head.
“Hmm… I don’t think anything?”
“…What?”
Cracks formed in the upperclassman’s expression. Yugeon kindly repeated himself.
“I said, I don’t think anything. About you, I mean.”
“……!”
“Oh. If I had to say, maybe… discomfort? You’ve been a little too intense with your attention lately.”
He said it with a casual smile, as if it were no big deal.
“Didn’t think you’d ask me so directly like that. From now on, if someone clearly avoids you, you should probably try to develop the social awareness to take the hint.”
His breezy comment left the upperclassman’s mouth hanging open.
“H-How can you say that?!”
His face flushed bright red from delayed embarrassment as he glared at Yugeon. His clenched fists trembled.
“You always act so nice and sweet… Is this the real you? If it’s because of Seo Suho, you could’ve just said you’re dating him! Why go out of your way to mock someone like this?”
It was true that Yugeon had spoken in a deliberately cold, cutting tone to kill any lingering feelings. He shrugged.
“I’m only interested in Seo Suho. That enough for you?”
“…Ha!”
“If possible, don’t go around poking at people who are already seeing someone, Sunbae.”
Min Yugeon wasn’t actually dating Seo Suho, but it felt shameless for someone to behave like this under that mistaken assumption. From beneath his curved eyelids, cold eyes swept over the upperclassman. The older student flinched instinctively and fell silent for a moment.
Lunch break was nearly over. With a quick glance at the clock, Yugeon offered a curt goodbye and turned to leave. The humiliated upperclassman shouted insults and complaints behind him—things like how annoying Yugeon was or to wait up—but once Yugeon started walking, he never looked back.
As he entered the building with the auditorium, he spotted Seo Suho standing just inside the entrance. Suho was always the first to sit down and get ready before class, so seeing him in such an unexpected spot made Yugeon’s eyes go wide.
“Suho?”
Hearing the dazed call, Suho turned to look at him. After recognizing him, he furrowed his brow and gestured as if to ask what he was doing. Yugeon dashed over and clung to his side.
“Why are you so late?”
Suho spoke with a short scolding tone as he handed over Yugeon’s books. Only then did Yugeon realize Suho had brought his materials for him. Even though Yugeon usually ran around playing sports during lunch, he had never been late to class—so Suho had likely grabbed his stuff just in case.
“Seo Suho…!”
Yugeon, looking deeply moved, took the books in one hand and spread his arms wide. As he stepped forward to hug him, Suho naturally moved aside to avoid it—but caught sight of Yugeon’s school uniform, completely disheveled from running around. Though it hadn’t gotten particularly dirty, the outfit was a mess.
Suho, who always aimed for a neat appearance, stared at Yugeon with an expression full of unspoken criticism. Worse yet, the teacher for the upcoming class was the kind who deducted points for sloppy posture and appearance. If they saw Yugeon like this, there’d definitely be comments.
“Hold still.”
“Huh? What, why?”
Startled by the fact that Suho wasn’t dodging, Yugeon froze in place, arms awkwardly outstretched like a broken robot, unsure whether to go through with the hug or not. Calmly, Suho grabbed Yugeon’s necktie. Though his pull wasn’t forceful, Yugeon instinctively bent forward slightly.
The distance between them closed in an instant, Suho’s pale face filling Yugeon’s vision. …Was his skin always this fair? Yugeon’s eyes unconsciously traced the curve from Suho’s forehead to his nose, then to his lips. Finally, they settled on Suho’s fingers—untying the necktie, folding it, then wrapping it gently. The long, straight fingers, with clearly defined joints, were beautiful.
Sometimes when they locked fingers, Suho would complain that it was uncomfortable, yet he never pushed Yugeon away. Every time, Yugeon would use that as an excuse to fidget with Suho’s hands. While his own hands had become rough and calloused from hobbies that involved manual work, Suho’s hands were smooth, solid but without hardened skin. Once he held them, he never wanted to let go.
Yugeon, lost in idle thoughts, suddenly flinched at the faint sensation of Suho’s breath.
“……”
He lifted his gaze slightly to take in Suho’s face again. The look between those long lashes was calm, and his lips were sealed tight. A face completely focused on fixing Yugeon’s tie, without a single trace of hidden intention. And yet, the warm breath coming from Suho oddly tickled Yugeon’s skin. Something deep inside his chest churned. He gazed quietly at Suho. It was a strange, delicate feeling—one too complex to name.
“All done.”
Suho tied Yugeon’s necktie as neatly as his own, fixed the collar properly, and only then stepped back.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Yugeon met Suho’s eyes and smiled like nothing was out of the ordinary.
For some reason, he felt like he shouldn’t let it show.
