[Do you have something to say to me?]
Sa Shin-jae stared blankly at the screen displaying that message. Then, without hesitation, he suddenly grabbed the stylus resting on top of it. His hand moved swiftly as he scribbled a reply.
[Yes?]
Cha Sa-yoon frowned at the response. He picked up the tablet and tilted it slightly. Then, reversing the angle, he eventually flipped it a full 180 degrees.
“Hmm…”
Was this even Korean? For a moment, he wondered if Shin-jae had deliberately responded in a foreign language just to mess with him. The letters had a distinct feel, almost like Arabic or Thai. After scrutinizing them, Sa-yoon wrote something beneath and slid the tablet back to Shin-jae.
[Sorry, but… what exactly did you write?]
Upon reading the message, Shin-jae’s expression twisted into something complicated. He glanced at Sa-yoon with a look of disbelief before clamping his mouth shut and turning away. The tips of his ears, now exposed, were noticeably red—though he himself didn’t seem to realize it.
That’s when Sa-yoon understood. So, it wasn’t a foreign language after all.
Clearly embarrassed at having his atrocious handwriting exposed, Shin-jae snatched the tablet back and even turned his whole body away to hide it from view. He seemed busy scribbling something again.
When the screen returned, the previous foreign-looking letters had been crossed out with several rough lines. Over them, there was a hastily written ‘No,’ which had then been aggressively scratched out as if to erase the evidence.
Why doesn’t he just use the eraser…?
Sa-yoon glanced at the open laptop beside him. Does he not use the tablet often? Maybe he wasn’t familiar with its functions.
Beneath the chaotic mess, a new message was scrawled:
[No.]
It was slightly better than before, though the letters still wriggled across the screen like lively earthworms. Two bold, extra lines were drawn under the word, possibly in a final show of frustration.
Sa-yoon let out a quiet chuckle as he read it.
[Then why do you keep staring at me? lol]
[Am I not allowed to?]
Well… technically, there was no rule against it.
The curt response was expected, yet considering how much Shin-jae had been staring, he must have had some kind of grievance. But now that they were actually talking about it, he seemed oddly tame.
Sa-yoon tilted his head, puzzled by the sudden shift in Shin-jae’s demeanor. Whatever it was, the guy clearly had no intention of revealing what was on his mind.
Should he pry or just let it go?
Tapping the screen lightly with the stylus, Sa-yoon finally decided to write something down.
[Wow, your handwriting is seriously terrible lol]
[–]
[Sunbae, you’re annoying.]
[What? Write that properly.]
As soon as Sa-yoon held out the tablet, a large hand reached out, shaking slightly as if demanding the stylus back immediately. Sa-yoon smirked, fairly certain that the next response would include some sort of profanity, and placed the stylus on top of the screen.
[Why is a person like this]
[Sunbae, what kind of person even]
[So what if my handwriting is bad?]
[Yeah, fair enough lol. Anyway, tell me what actually pissed you off.]
[I’m telling you, it’s nothing.]
As if habitual, Shin-jae’s handwriting started morphing into foreign-looking script again. Especially the phrase I said it’s not!, which turned into a single, fluid line that almost resembled the cresting waves of the ocean. It took some serious focus to decipher.
[You’re good-looking, so I figured you’d have nice handwriting too. Unexpected lol]
[You think I’m good-looking, Sunbae?]
The stylus was handed back to him. Sa-yoon picked it up, frowning slightly. Why was this guy even asking something so obvious?
[Do you not have a mirror at home?]
Shin-jae’s sharp brows furrowed slightly. Thinking about it, he had probably heard that compliment countless times in his life—enough that he might have gotten sick of it.
But just because someone was tired of hearing it didn’t mean you could call a handsome guy ugly.
Sa-yoon wet his lower lip with his tongue before writing one final word.
[Insanely handsome.]
The tablet Sa-yoon used was 14 inches, and passing it back and forth between them was starting to feel tedious. Plus, it wasn’t exactly subtle behavior to be doing during a lecture.
At some point, the two ended up pressing their shoulders together, the tablet placed in the middle of the desk as they simply passed the stylus back and forth.
Just as Sa-yoon finished writing and was about to hand the stylus over, something unexpected happened.
As he lowered the stylus onto Shin-jae’s open palm, the hand beneath suddenly closed around it—like a flower bud folding in.
Sa-yoon’s gaze instinctively dropped, landing on the back of that hand.
“Ah.”
Realizing what Shin-jae was checking for, Sa-yoon let out a small sound.
“It’s completely healed now. Not a single mark left.”
He whispered as he casually waved the hand holding the stylus. Thanks to diligently applying ointment and keeping up with hospital visits, his hand had recovered well. The doctor had warned that a scar might remain, but there wasn’t even a trace of the accident left on the back of his hand.
To emphasize the point, he stretched his hand out toward Shin-jae.
Huh?
Contrary to his expectation that Shin-jae would pull away or seem uncomfortable, the guy suddenly grabbed his hand without hesitation.
Not only did he inspect it with his eyes, but his thumb even brushed over the smooth skin.
The rough calloused pad of Shin-jae’s thumb traced over Sa-yoon’s hand repeatedly, leaving behind a distinct warmth wherever it passed. His hands were hot.
“I told you to send me the hospital bill,” Shin-jae murmured.
“It wasn’t even that much.”
“Still.”
“Then at least buy me fo—”
Their hushed conversation had gone on long enough that the male student sitting in front of them finally turned around and shot them a look. Meeting the guy’s gaze, Sa-yoon awkwardly dipped his head in apology.
Gently pulling his hand back, Sa-yoon cleared his throat. As he finally passed the stylus over, he couldn’t help but notice how much warmer Shin-jae’s hands were compared to his own.
[Your hands are really warm.]
[Must’ve been rough during summer.]
[Why are your hands so cold, Sunbae?]
[I have poor circulation.]
For no particular reason, Sa-yoon clenched and unclenched his fists, and as expected, Shin-jae’s gaze lingered on them. Even though I already told him I’m fine…
To reassure him, Sa-yoon made a fist and gave Shin-jae a light punch on the arm. Only then did Shin-jae finally pick up the stylus again.
[…]
[Sorry.]
[It’s fine, really. You took me to the hospital, remember?]
[And at the convenience store too…]
[I was impatient.]
The sudden apology made Sa-yoon blink. Now that Shin-jae brought it up, memories of that day resurfaced.
[Oh, yeah. I was pretty pissed then.]
[I was already on the bus first, you know.]
[TT]
[Want to hit me once?]
[?]
[You can hit me until you feel better.]
[I won’t press charges.]
[Guess you can take a hit?]
[Just enough to take one from you, Sunbae.]
Sa-yoon had been angry back then, but it was in the past, and judging by Shin-jae’s reaction, he seemed genuinely remorseful. That was enough.
Just as their conversation reached that point—
“This concludes today’s class.”
What?
Sa-yoon’s head shot up. He had been so caught up in talking that he hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.
“Wow… I didn’t catch a single thing from this lecture.”
It was just the end of a morning class, but he already felt completely drained. Finally freed from the unspoken pressure to stay quiet, he let out a sigh and mumbled to himself.
“Seriously, what a kid…”
Telling him to punch him—what was this, elementary school? Sa-yoon wasn’t the type to vent frustration through violence.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
He waved a dismissive hand in Shin-jae’s direction without even looking. Then, as he slowly started packing up his things, he glanced up—
“Why?”
Shin-jae was just standing there, unmoving, next to him.
“Do you have more to say?”
“Aren’t you going?”
“Going where?”
“Aren’t we getting lunch?”
“What about your classmates?”
“They have the day off today.”
“Oh.”
Now that he thought about it, Sa-yoon had eaten with Shin-jae quite a lot. Ever since Shin-jae clung to him under the pretense of teaching him how to flirt or insisting he tag along whenever he visited the theater club, it wasn’t surprising that Shin-jae naturally expected them to eat together.
The issue was Sa-yoon himself.
Since the semester started, he had turned down so many lunch invitations just to trail after Shin-jae that he’d lost count.
By the time his friends started openly complaining, he made peace with them, and from then on, he scheduled lunch with people strictly in the order they reached out. Today was no exception—he already had plans.
“Sa-yoon sunbae!”
Beyond the lecture hall’s exit, Seo Yeon-hee was bouncing on her feet, waving enthusiastically.
Sa-yoon turned toward her, then hesitated, his expression conflicted.
“…Uh.”
If he turned Shin-jae down, would the guy end up eating alone? If he hadn’t known, maybe it wouldn’t have bothered him—but now that he did, he couldn’t just ignore it. Shin-jae was clearly waiting for him.
“Ugh, I swear my stomach and back are about to fuse together from hunger. Sunbae, let’s go already! Do you think there are still seats left?”
Yeon-hee had already made her way to his side, urging him to hurry.
The place they were going to was a well-known, long-standing restaurant near campus. A small mom-and-pop shop run by an elderly couple. Since the place was tiny, if they missed the lunch rush by even a little, finding a seat would be impossible.
“Ah.”
By then, it seemed Shin-jae had grasped the situation. Holding his messenger bag in one hand, he let out a short sound.
“Enjoy your meal, Sunbae.”
Then, without a hint of hesitation, he turned and walked away.
For some reason, that sight stuck with Sa-yoon.
“Hey, wait a second!”
He called out to Shin-jae, who was already heading toward the door. It wasn’t something he thought through—he just said it.
“Uh, well… I was going to eat with Yeon-hee anyway. Want to join us? You don’t mind, right, Yeon-hee?”
“Nope! I’m totally fine with it!”
Yeon-hee nodded without hesitation. He had expected her to agree—she was naturally easygoing.
When Shin-jae turned back, he was smiling.
It was the same familiar, smooth yet insincere smile that Sa-yoon had seen countless times before.
“I’d like that.”
***
What the hell am I even watching right now?
Sa-yoon blinked in disbelief.
“So yeah, that’s why I immediately recommended you to Sunbae that day.”
“Really? Then since I got to meet Sa-yoon Sunbae thanks to you, I should at least treat you to a meal.”
“Aww, Sunbae? Come on, we’re not even in the same department. Just call me ‘Noona.’”
“Oh… should I, then? Yeon-hee Noona?”
“Y-Yeon-hee Noona?”
The shaky voice that escaped him must have sounded odd because both of them suddenly turned to look at him.
Yeon-hee’s confused gaze was understandable—she had no idea what was going on. But Shin-jae also wore a face that seemed to ask, What’s your problem?
That was what made Sa-yoon feel unfairly frustrated.
Because—
Didn’t he just call me ‘Sunbae-nim’ earlier?
It wasn’t a big deal, but somehow, it still annoyed him.
