Snowman Smiles ☃️
synopsis: You spent the past few months convincing yourself that your feelings for Kim Woonhak were nothing more than harmless curiosity. Just observations. Maybe, possibly just a tiny crush. But once you're asked to tutor him for the upcoming midterms, your carefully maintained distance begins to disappear, and suddenly, observing him from afar isn't nearly as dangerous as getting to know him.
pairings: classmate x tutor(?), Woonhak x fem reader
tags/warnings: fluff on fluff on fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, library study sessions, awkward flirting, study dates, Woonhak is literally sunshine and the greenest flag ever, Y/N internally screaming for the most part, Yunah(ILLIT) is mentioned, some BND members are mentioned here, happy ending!! this is not proofread btw^^
wordcount: 9.2k
fic below the cut!!
-----------------------------
There is a particular kind of torture in sitting three rows behind someone you've accidentally developed a crush on.
Not a real crush. You'd spent six months insisting that to yourself.
It was appreciation. Purely observational. The way you admired neat handwriting or an elegant mathematical proof. Nothing more.
Unfortunately, your brain had developed a habit of collecting details without asking permission first.
His name was Kim Woonhak. He always sat in the third row from the front, slightly left of center, where the afternoon sun reached him before anyone else.
People gravitated toward him almost instinctively.
Teachers stopped him in the hallway just to chat. Seniors greeted him like an old friend. Students from completely different classes somehow knew his name.
He greeted every single one of them with the same smile. Bright. Unforced. Completely genuine.
One afternoon, you'd watched him thank the cafeteria auntie with the exact same sincerity he used when greeting the vice principal. He accepted his tray with both hands, smiled, then walked away carrying two cartons of milk.
Someone always forgot theirs. Woonhak always noticed.
None of that information had ever been useful. Your brain simply...kept it.
You, meanwhile, preferred things that made sense.
Your notes were color-coded. Your planner existed in three different places. You arrived early to every class, finished every exam ahead of schedule, and had long since earned a reputation for being intimidating.
You never corrected anyone. People left you alone. You liked it that way.
Everything remained comfortably organized. Except for one increasingly inconvenient exception.
It had started with his laugh.
You'd been halfway through a macroeconomics chapter when something unexpectedly warm cut through your concentration.
You looked up.
Woonhak leaned back in his chair while one of his friends finished an undeniably terrible joke. His shoulders shook. His eyes disappeared completely beneath the brightest smile you'd ever seen.
You looked back down after three seconds. Then spent the next three weeks thinking about it.
It wasn't poetic. It was oddly specific.
He looked like a snowman.
Not because he looked cold. Because his smile reminded you of the cheerful snowmen from children's storybooks.
Soft. Round. Completely unguarded.
You quietly stored the observation away. Then returned to macroeconomics. Or at least...you tried.
"Hey, Y/N."
You looked up.
Myung Jaehyun stood beside your desk wearing the unmistakable expression of someone about to ask for a favor.
"You're at the top of the class, right?"
"So I've been told."
"Perfect."
He pointed across the classroom.
"Woonhak needs a tutor."
Your pen stopped.
Across the room, Woonhak was enthusiastically reenacting some story for his friends with enough dramatic commitment that two of them were already laughing before he'd even reached the punchline.
"And why," you asked carefully, "are you telling me?"
"Because I don't know anyone else who can explain the material."
"I am not a tutoring service."
"I know."
"I'm also not volunteering."
"I know."
"So why are we still talking?"
Jaehyun smiled.
"Because you're nice."
You stared.
"I think you've confused me with someone else."
"Nope."
"You definitely have."
"You just hide it better." His smile softened.
"He really is trying. I just think he needs someone capable of helping him."
You looked toward Woonhak again.
He happened to glance your way at the same moment before immediately returning to his conversation, completely unaware the discussion involved him.
You sighed.
"I'll think about it."
Normally, those words almost meant no. Apparently Jaehyun heard yes.
-----------------------------
The next morning, someone pulled the chair in front of your desk around and sat down backward.
"Hi."
You looked up.
Kim Woonhak smiled. Probably a bit too close to your liking.
"I'm Woonhak."
"I know."
"...Great. Saves me from introducing myself."
You blinked.
It suddenly occurred to you that Kim Woonhak might simply be immune to awkwardness.
"I heard you might be able to help me study."
"I said I'd think about it."
"I know."
His smile remained perfectly intact.
"I figured I'd make my case in person."
"And?"
"I'm much more convincing in person."'"I'm much more convincing in person."
Unfortunately... he wasn't wrong.
You'd spent the last six months safely admiring him from three rows away.
Now he was smiling directly at you, and your heartbeat had apparently decided professionalism was optional.
"What subjects?" you asked.
He counted on his fingers.
"Math."
Another finger.
"Chemistry."
Then another.
"...Most of the others."
"That's concerning."
"I know."
He laughed sheepishly.
"But I learn fast. And I promise I'll work hard."
You looked at him properly for the first time.
The grin he'd shown everyone else settled into something quieter.
"I'll owe you."
"You don't owe me anything."
"I could become your academic servant."
"I don't think that's a real occupation."
"It could be."
A tiny laugh escaped before you could stop it. His entire face brightened.
You immediately cleared your throat.
"...Wednesday."
His eyes widened.
"The library."
He sat up so quickly the chair nearly tipped over.
"Really?"
"Yes. Four o'clock."
"I'll be early."
"You'll be on time."
"I'll try."
"You don't sound convincing."
"I thought I was much more convincing in person."
"You've provided very little evidence."
He laughed all the way back to his seat.
The sound lingered in your thoughts long after the classroom had gone quiet.
-----------------------------
You arrived at the library fifteen minutes early.
Naturally. Everything here made sense. Books belonged on shelves. Silence had rules.
People respected both.
You had already arranged your notes when Woonhak appeared exactly two minutes before four carrying two drinks.
"So... I guessed."
He places the two drinks on the table, setting one in front of you. Brown sugar milk tea.
"I didn't know what you liked."
You looked up.
"So you guessed?"
"You seem like a brown sugar person."
"...What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
He shrugged.
"It just felt right."
"...That's your explanation?"
"It's a classic."
He unpacked notebooks that looked like they'd survived several natural disasters.
A pencil rolled across the table. He caught it without looking.
You picked up the drink before he noticed your expression.
"...We're doing math first."
To your surprise... he wasn't a bad student.
He learned quickly once someone explained why something worked instead of simply telling him the answer. When he concentrated, the energetic class clown disappeared completely.
He leaned over his notebook, quietly talking himself through each step under his breath.
"...Negative first."
A pause.
"...Carry the two..."
His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the page.
Rhythm. Not impatience.
You remembered he'd been writing songs long before you'd ever spoken to him.
Somehow... that made perfect sense.
"You've been staring at that equation for two minutes."
"I know."
"But you're smiling."
"I think I finally understand it."
There it was again.
That smile. Smaller than the ones he wore around everyone else. Somehow infinitely more dangerous.
You lowered your eyes before your face betrayed you.
"You missed a negative sign."
You pointed with your pencil instead of your finger. He leaned closer.
"...You're right."
He groaned dramatically.
"I celebrated too early."
"You celebrated before checking your answer."
"The academy never believes in me."
"The academy would like you to finish the worksheet."
"They have impossible standards."
"They have twenty-three remaining questions."
He sighed with theatrical despair before continuing.
A few minutes later, he slid the paper back toward you. You looked it over.
"Correct."
He threw both hands into the air. “I’d like to thank the academy.”
“The academy accepts.”
His grin widened. The corners of your lips betrayed you, lifting just slightly before you could stop them.
“You smiled.”
Your head lifted instinctively. A huge mistake.
He was already watching you.
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
"I don't think you have sufficient evidence."
"I watched it happen."
You managed exactly two seconds of eye contact before retreating to the worksheet.
"Eyewitness testimony is unreliable."
His laughter escaped a little louder than intended.
Someone glanced over your direction and he immediately ducked his head.
"...Sorry."
"You apologized."
"My mom would be disappointed if I didn't."
You smiled again before catching yourself. This time, you hid behind your drink.
The afternoon settled into an unexpectedly comfortable rhythm.
He asked thoughtful questions. You answered them. He listened carefully.
Not because he wanted the solution. Because he genuinely wanted to understand.
By closing time, you'd quietly put away the harder worksheets. He wasn't ready for them. Not anymore.
"You know..." He rested his chin in one hand.
"You're not as scary as everyone says."
You suddenly found the margin of your notebook fascinating.
"Sorry... was that weird?"
"No."
It wasn't. That was the problem.
Six months ago, Kim Woonhak had simply been the boy with the snowman smile.
Now... he was becoming a real person.
And somehow, that was so much more dangerous.
-----------------------------
Wednesday became a regular thing. Then Tuesday joined it.
Eventually, without either of you acknowledging when it happened, studying together simply became part of your routine.
Woonhak never missed a session. If anything, he became suspiciously punctual.
One rainy afternoon, he arrived carrying two umbrellas.
"I checked the forecast."
"You mean one forecast?"
"...Seven."
You looked at him.
"There are seven weather apps?"
"There are at least seven."
"...You have seven weather apps?"
"I have trust issues."
You accepted the spare umbrella anyway.
Questioning Kim Woonhak's logic had become a waste of energy.
He always brought something. A different drink because he wanted to know whether you preferred jasmine tea over oolong. A bag of chips with a sticky note that read: For when math gets evil.
You absolutely did not keep the note tucked inside your economics textbook afterward. That would've been ridiculous.
The study sessions settled into their own rhythm. The first half belonged to academics.
Woonhak no longer panicked whenever he made mistakes. Instead, he leaned into them.
"So why does this formula work?"
"What changes if this disappears?"
"Can I solve it another way?"
He wasn't memorizing anymore. He wanted to understand.
You liked that.
The second half inevitably drifted elsewhere. Chemistry became music. Music became favorite movies.
Favorite movies somehow became an argument over whether cereal counted as soup.
"It has liquid."
"It has cereal."
"So?"
"So it isn't soup."
"You're inventing rules."
"They're important rules."
"I don't think they are."
"They absolutely are."
He laughed so suddenly that he nearly dropped his pen.
You looked down before he noticed yourself smiling. That was becoming a problem.
Conversations had never been dangerous before.
Kim Woonhak used to exist safely three rows ahead of you.
Now he remembered that you disliked sparkling water because you'd mentioned it once. He quietly slid the blue highlighter toward you before you reached for it. He asked how your presentation went before asking whether he'd passed chemistry.
Your observations had become... personal. And somehow, that was infinitely worse.
"I want to hear that song you were working on."
The words escaped before you thought about them. You blinked and instantly regretted what you'd just said.
"...You don't have to play it."
His eyes brightened.
"No, I want to."
He pulled out his phone.
"It's unfinished."
"I won't judge."
"You absolutely will."
"I analyze."
He laughed.
"Right."
The recording lasted barely ninety seconds.
A warm guitar. Then his voice. Lower than you'd expected.
The melody felt gentle. Hopeful.
When it ended, you handed his phone back.
"The second half is stronger."
He frowned thoughtfully.
"It is?"
"You wrote toward the melody instead of with it. The lyrics and melody are trying to tell different stories."
He stared.
"...Yeah." His voice had gone quiet. "That's exactly what's bothering me."
"I'm glad the analysis helped."
"It always does."
You lowered your eyes before he noticed the smile threatening to appear.
The changes afterward were almost impossible to notice. Unless someone had spent months quietly studying him.
He started saving you a seat during homeroom. Never calling your name. Just moving his backpack the moment you arrived. You always sat beside him.
He also started texting. At first, it was just homework questions.
Then...
A blurry sunset.
Woonhak: this doesn't look real
A six-second voice memo.
Woonhak: does this melody sound okay?
A picture of another orange stray cat.
Woonhak: he ignored me too
You answered every message. That was your first mistake.
Looking forward to them became your second.
He also asked more questions that were not related to any of your study sessions.
"What do you listen to?"
"What do you actually do when you're not studying?"
"What made you like economics?"
He listened carefully. Not politely. Genuinely.
Weeks later he'd casually mention something you'd forgotten telling him. As though your answers mattered. As though you mattered.
You buried that thought beneath several layers of logic.
Kim Woonhak treated everyone kindly. This wasn't different. It couldn't be.
The argument became slightly less convincing each time you repeated it.
-----------------------------
"You like him."
You looked up so quickly you nearly dropped your chopsticks.
"...Excuse me?"
Yunah, your classmate, looked entirely too pleased with herself.
"You heard me."
"I tutor him."
"You also like him."
"I think he's nice."
"You've thought he was nice since October."
"...How do you know that?"
"I literally sit behind you."
Your heart sank.
"...And, you aren't exactly subtle."
"I wasn't looking at him."
"You absolutely were."
"I was observing."
"There it is."
She pointed a fry at you, dramatically. One that she stole from your own tray.
"You've convinced yourself that if you call it observing, it somehow stops being a crush."
"I just notice everyone's habits."
"No. There's a difference."
You sighed.
"You know what drink he buys. You know which hallway he uses. You know he hums while solving math."
"..."
"You accidentally admitted all of those."
"...Coincidences happen."
"They don't just happen for six straight months."
The teasing softened. Yunah rested her chin on one hand.
"You don't have to pretend around me."
"I'm not pretending."
"You kind of are."
You stared down at your lunch.
"...I didn't mean to notice. It just..." You laughed quietly. "...kept happening."
She waited.
"I thought it was just a harmless crush."
"And now?"
Your smile arrived before you could stop it.
"...Now he remembers things. He notices things. And somehow..." You shook your head. "...that's so much worse."
"Worse?"
"I wasn't supposed to get to know him."
The confession escaped before you could stop it.
"I thought if I stayed far enough away..." You laughed softly. "...it would stay simple."
"But it didn't."
A pause.
"...He became a real person."
Yunah smiled.
"I'd hope so."
"You know what I mean."
"I do."
She nudged your tray toward you.
"You should eat. You barely touched your food."
"...Thanks."
She shrugged.
"We're classmates." Then, after a second, "...I'd like to think we're becoming friends."
You blinked.
"...I'd like that too."
Your phone buzzed.
Woonhak: i found another cat
Another message immediately followed.
Woonhak: this one ignored me too
You opened the picture. A tiny orange cat sat with its back to him.
You smiled without thinking.
Yunah noticed. Of course she did.
"I didn't say anything."
You quickly locked your phone.
"...You're insufferable."
"I've been called worse."
She stood, balancing her tray.
"I'll let you keep pretending a little longer."
By the time she'd disappeared into the crowd... you had already saved the picture.
-----------------------------
The midterm results came back on a Friday. You learned about them before Woonhak did.
Not because you were looking. Because the hallway outside the faculty office suddenly erupted into cheers.
"No way!"
Jaehyun's voice carried all the way to the library.
Then another shout.
"Woonhak!"
Applause followed. Someone actually whistled.
You lowered your eyes back to your notes. You were absolutely not curious. Not even a little.
"...Y/N!"
You sighed.
Of course.
The library doors flew open with considerably more enthusiasm than libraries generally appreciated.
Woonhak hurried inside, slightly out of breath, hair windswept from running across campus, one crumpled result sheet clutched proudly in his hand.
"I found you."
Your heart immediately forgot how to function properly at the sight of him.
"...Congratulations."
He blinked.
"I didn't even tell you yet."
"You came in waving the paper."
"...Right." He laughed sheepishly before dropping into the chair across from you.
"Look." He slid the paper across the table.
Mathematics. 78.
Chemistry. 81.
Every subject had improved.
You looked back up at him, trying your hardest to not show it in your face too much that you were genuinely happy for him.
"You passed."
"I passed."
He pointed excitedly at the page.
"I actually passed."
"I can see that."
"I know, but..." He laughed again, excitement outrunning his vocabulary. "I've never improved this much before."
Without thinking... you smiled. He felt accomplished from that alone.
"You worked hard."
He immediately shook his head.
"We worked hard."
Your smile faltered.
"Woonhak..."
"I'm serious."
His voice softened.
"You complained every week."
"I did." He laughed. "But I kept coming."
"You did."
"Because you kept believing I could do it."
Silence settled between you. You found yourself quietly straightening the edge of his paper.
"I only explained the material."
"You did more than that."
Your fingers stopped.
"You never made me feel stupid."
You looked up.
His smile wasn't bright anymore. It was small. Honest.
"I think..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...that's what helped the most."
Something tightened quietly inside your chest.
"...You still did the work."
"I know, but..."
His smile returned as he carefully folded the paper.
"I wanted you to see it first."
The sentence slipped out naturally. Neither of you reacted immediately.
Then...
"Oh."
His ears slowly turned pink.
"I mean..." He scratched his neck awkwardly.
You rescued him before he could make it worse.
"...Congratulations, Woonhak." You smiled. "I'm proud of you."
Silence.
His eyes widened ever so slightly.
"...Thank you."
You looked down before your own face betrayed you.
"We should keep studying. Finals are next."
"...Yeah." He smiled to himself. "We should."
-----------------------------
Later that afternoon, Jaehyun found Woonhak alone in their studio. His folded report card rested beside his laptop.
Music drifted softly from the speakers before fading away.
Jaehyun nodded, satisfied.
"...It's better."
Woonhak looked up.
"You think so?"
"I do." He tapped the keyboard. "You fixed the second verse."
"I finally figured it out."
"So..."
Jaehyun folded his arms.
"Did you let Y/N hear it?"
Woonhak blinked.
"...Yeah."
"And?"
"They said the melody deserved better lyrics."
Jaehyun smiled.
"So you rewrote the whole thing."
"...I guess I did."
"You didn't even argue."
"I trusted them."
The words left his mouth before he noticed. Jaehyun only hummed.
"Interesting."
Silence.
"Woonhak."
"Hm?"
"Last week you asked me whether your hoodie looked better zipped or unzipped."
"I remember."
"The next day... you asked Y/N."
"...Did I?"
"You did."
"I was just curious."
"The week before that you asked if your hair looked weird after practice. I told you it looked fine."
"..."
"You still asked Y/N."
Woonhak frowned. "...I don't remember that."
"I know." Jaehyun smiled knowingly. "That's the point."
He continued counting on his fingers.
"You changed milk tea brands because they said the last one was too sweet. You started carrying two umbrellas. You somehow know exactly which highlighter they'll reach for."
"..."
"You ask me for advice first. Then you ask Y/N."
A pause.
"And you always seem happier when Y/N agrees."
Woonhak stared.
"...Really?"
Jaehyun nodded.
"When grades came out today..." He lifted the folded result sheet. "Who did you want to tell first?"
"...Y/N."
The answer came immediately. No hesitation. No thinking.
Jaehyun smiled.
"You ran straight past me."
"I did?"
"You didn't even notice."
Woonhak covered his face.
"...Hyung."
"I thought I'd at least get a hello."
"I got excited."
"I know." Jaehyun's smile softened. "But not excited enough to tell me first."
Silence filled the room.
Jaehyun glanced toward the notebook beside the laptop.
"You know... I've listened to every version of this song."
Woonhak looked at it too.
"The first draft was good too, but this one feels more honest."
"...What changed?"
"I think..." Jaehyun smiled. "You finally figured out who you were writing it for."
The room became very quiet.
"You rewrote the lyrics because Y/N suggested it. You wanted them to hear your grades first. You save them a seat every morning. You text them pictures of every stray cat on campus."
A tiny laugh escaped Woonhak.
"...Not every cat."
"Almost every cat."
Another pause.
"You've talked about Y/N every day this week."
Woonhak blinked.
"...Have I?"
"You told me they smile differently when they're concentrating. You said they push their sleeves up before explaining difficult problems. You somehow know which drink they'll order."
"..."
"You notice everything."
The words settled gently into the silence.
Woonhak thought back.
To every Wednesday afternoon. Every shared drink. Every tiny smile Y/N tried so hard to hide.
The way they'd quietly laugh before pretending they hadn't. The way they analyzed his unfinished song more carefully than anyone else ever had.
He remembered deleting almost an entire verse after that conversation. Writing until sunrise.
Because... he wanted them to hear the finished version.
"...Hyung."
Jaehyun waited.
A slow smile spread across Woonhak's face. Almost disbelieving.
"...I think I really like Y/N."
Jaehyun smiled.
"I know."
"You knew?"
"I suspected."
"...Since when?"
"Since you started asking for my opinion just so you could compare it with theirs."
Woonhak dropped his forehead onto the desk.
"...That's kind of embarrassing."
"It is."
"I seriously didn't know."
"I believe you."
Another laugh escaped him. Quieter this time.
He realized something. He hadn't fallen in love that afternoon.
Not when Y/N agreed to tutor him. Not when they listened to his unfinished song. Not even when they told him they were proud of him.
He'd simply been collecting moments.
One smile. One conversation. One shared drink. One saved seat. One tiny observation after another.
Without realizing they had already become the favorite parts of his day.
Now that he finally understood what they meant... everything made perfect sense.
-----------------------------
The next study session came. Then the next. Then another.
Somehow, the weeks continued as though nothing had changed.
The library remained quiet in the afternoons. The same table by the windows was almost always empty by the time the two of you arrived. Woonhak still showed up carrying two drinks, and you still pretended not to notice that he no longer had to ask which one you liked. You still arranged your notes into neat little stacks while he unpacked his bag with the same cheerful lack of organization that made you quietly straighten his papers whenever he wasn't looking.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Only now, every familiar habit seemed to carry a meaning neither of you quite knew how to acknowledge.
The first study session after midterms passed surprisingly smoothly. Almost suspiciously so.
The two of you settled into your usual routine, speaking mostly about reaction rates and probability questions, both pretending that nothing had shifted.
It was almost convincing.
Almost.
Halfway through the session, Woonhak leaned over to compare his answer with yours.
His shoulder brushed yours. Barely.
The two of you froze at the sudden contact.
"...Sorry."
The apology left your mouths at exactly the same time.
You looked at each other for a brief second before he laughed first.
You followed a heartbeat later, quieter than him, immediately lowering your gaze as warmth climbed into your face.
Neither of you mentioned it again.
The second study session was worse. Or perhaps "worse" wasn't the right word.
More dangerous.
Woonhak slid into the chair across from you, setting your usual drink beside your notebook before pulling his own bag onto the table.
"...Sorry I'm late."
You glanced at the clock.
"You're thirty-seven seconds late."
He blinked.
"...You counted?"
"No."
A beat passed.
"...Probably."
A grin spread across his face as he laughed, shaking his head while pulling out his notebook. You uncapped your highlighter and reached for the chemistry textbook.
"...Did you change your perfume?"
Silence.
The question slipped out with the same absentminded ease as asking whether he'd finished the homework.
Woonhak looked up at you. He wanted to make sure he wasn't hearing things.
"...What?"
You blinked.
"...Your perfume."
The words left your mouth before your brain had the chance to intervene.
Then, with impeccable timing... your brain caught up.
...
Oh.
Heat rushed into your face so quickly it almost hurt.
Why would you say that?
There had been perfectly reasonable explanations.
People bought new perfume. People changed shampoo. People smelled different after laundry day.
None of those explanations justified the fact that you'd apparently noticed the difference the moment he'd sat down.
You cleared your throat.
"...It smells different."
That somehow sounded even worse.
Across the table, Woonhak continued staring at you.
"...You noticed?"
"...It's different."
"...I only started wearing it yesterday."
"...Oh."
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy.
"...I actually asked Jaehyun which one I should get."
Another pause.
"...He said this one."
Your fingers tightened around your pen.
"...It suits you."
Silence.
You heard yourself say it. You heard the silence that followed.
Then your own words replayed themselves, one horrifying sentence at a time.
You noticed he'd changed his perfume. You admitted you noticed. Then you told him it suited him.
Somewhere, the version of yourself that had successfully maintained a carefully curated reputation for being composed and emotionally detached quietly packed its things and left.
Across the table, Woonhak had stopped moving entirely.
The tips of his ears slowly turned pink. Then his cheeks.
He looked at you as though you'd just confessed to something neither of you was supposed to know yet.
"...You noticed?"
His voice came out much softer this time. Almost careful.
Eye contact was no longer an available option.
"...A-anyway..."
Your voice betrayed you on the very first syllable. Wonderful.
"...Let's start with chemistry first."
You hurriedly flipped open the textbook before he could say another word, suddenly deciding reaction mechanisms deserved your undivided attention.
Across the table, Woonhak didn't answer immediately. You could feel him looking at you.
Then... a quiet, helpless laugh escaped him.
"...Okay."
There was a smile in his voice. One you refused to look at.
Not because you didn't want to. Because you were almost certain that if you did... you wouldn't survive it.
By the third study session, pretending became exhausting.
The conversations still came easily. You still quizzed him on chemistry formulas. He still groaned dramatically every time mathematics introduced another unfamiliar symbol. You still corrected him with quiet patience. He still found ways to make you laugh when you least expected it.
Nothing was different, you thought.
Everything was different.
Even the librarian seemed to notice. She glanced toward your table once, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly before returning to her cart of books.
Usually, the two of you filled every lull with conversation. Today, silence visited more often.
Not awkward. Just... full.
Like there were words resting quietly between the two of you, patiently waiting for someone to gather enough courage to speak them.
Neither of you did. Not yet. Instead, they surfaced in smaller ways.
Your fingers brushed when you both reached for the calculator. You instinctively pulled your hand back.
Woonhak cleared his throat.
"...Sorry."
"It was my fault."
"It wasn't."
"It was."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You always apologize first."
"...Do I?"
"You do."
You lowered your eyes to your notebook.
"I didn't realize."
"I know."
His voice softened.
"I've been noticing a lot of things lately."
Your heart stumbled. You kept your eyes fixed stubbornly on the page.
"...Like what?"
"Hm?"
"You said you've been noticing things."
"...Right."
He scratched the back of his neck.
You waited.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
"...Nothing."
You nodded once.
"...Okay."
It wasn't okay. You both knew it wasn't.
The unfinished answer lingered quietly between the pages of your notebooks for the rest of the afternoon.
-----------------------------
The following Wednesday arrived with rain tapping gently against the library windows.
Most students had gone home early. The library felt unusually empty.
You were already seated when Woonhak arrived. He folded his umbrella beside the door before walking over.
"I brought two."
He smiled sheepishly, lifting another umbrella from his bag.
"...Just in case."
You stared at him.
"You remembered the forecast."
"I checked."
"...Seven weather apps?"
His eyes widened.
"...How did you know that?"
You looked down almost immediately.
"...Lucky guess."
He laughed.
"You've been spending too much time with me."
The words settled warmly somewhere beneath your ribs.
"...Probably."
The answer escaped before you could stop it.
His smile faltered. Not because he'd disliked hearing it. Quite the opposite. Neither of you said anything after that.
The study session continued quietly. The questions became easier. Or perhaps neither of you was paying enough attention for them to feel difficult.
More than once, your hands reached for the same pen. More than once, one of you began speaking just as the other did. More than once, your eyes met just long enough for one of you to look away first.
The air felt impossibly light and impossibly heavy at the same time. As though every unfinished sentence had decided to remain in the room with you.
Outside, the rain continued steadily. Inside, the clock ticked toward closing time.
You circled the final answer.
"...Correct."
"We're done."
"We're done."
Neither of you moved.
You stacked your notes. He zipped his pencil case.
The table slowly emptied. Still... neither of you stood.
The silence no longer felt uncertain. It felt inevitable.
Eventually, you looked up. Woonhak was already looking at you.
For the first time since you'd met him... he looked nervous. Not the kind of nervousness before a test. Not the kind before performing. The kind that belonged to someone standing at the edge of something they couldn't take back.
"...Y/N."
Your name was quieter than usual.
"Hm?"
He looked down at his hands. His fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack before slowly relaxing again.
A small laugh escaped him.
"...Can I tell you something?"
Your heartbeat became suddenly, inconveniently noticeable. You didn't know what was coming, but seeing him get nervous like this was doing things to your own nervous system.
"...You're always telling me things."
The words came out automatically. The moment they left your mouth, you wanted them back. Because this wasn't one of those moments.
Apparently, he knew that too.
He smiled. Not brightly. Just enough to reassure you.
"...Yeah. I guess I am."
He drew in a slow breath.
"I've been trying really hard to study."
You frowned slightly.
"I know."
"No, I mean..." He laughed quietly at himself. "I really have. I keep telling myself I'm going to focus."
"You do."
"I try."
His smile turned helpless.
"But every time I look up..." His eyes finally found yours. "...I end up paying attention to you instead."
The room fell completely still.
"I thought maybe it'd go away after midterms. It didn't."
A quiet laugh.
"I thought maybe I was just happy because we'd been spending so much time together."
Another pause.
"But then..." His smile returned, softer this time. "You noticed I'd changed my perfume."
Your breath caught.
"I don't know why..." He laughed under his breath. "...but that made me ridiculously happy."
His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of his notebook.
"And after that, I started noticing everything too. The way you tap your highlighter before you uncap it. The way you push your sleeves up whenever you're about to explain something difficult. The tiny smile you make when I get an answer right before you remember you're supposed to be serious."
He shook his head gently, smiling to himself.
"I realized I look forward to that smile more than getting the answer right."
His gaze lifted to yours once more. Open. Honest. Terrifyingly sincere.
"I think..." A small, nervous laugh escaped him. "...No, I know."
He smiled.
"I like you."
Simple. Certain.
"I don't mean as my tutor. Or just my classmate."
His smile softened.
"I like talking to you. I like hearing what you think. I like showing you things."
His eyes continue to hold yours.
"I think my days became my favorite when you started being part of them."
He exhaled slowly.
"I just... I didn't want finals to come and pretend none of this ever happened."
The room was very quiet.
Outside, rain continued to patter softly against the library windows, the sound settling into the silence neither of you seemed willing to disturb.
Your heartbeat was loud enough to drown out everything else.
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. You closed it again.
Your brain, so dependable in every other situation, had apparently chosen this exact moment to resign.
You could explain integration by parts to thirty students without looking at your notes. You had survived oral examinations. You had argued with teachers.
You had once corrected an entire textbook in the margins because the publisher had made a mistake.
And yet... one honest confession from Kim Woonhak had reduced your vocabulary to absolutely nothing.
He waited. He didn't rush you. He simply sat there, looking at you with the same patient warmth that had somehow become familiar over the past few months.
Like he genuinely believed that whatever answer you gave would be worth waiting for. That somehow made it harder.
"...I've..."
You stopped for a moment. Then you let out a quiet breath, dropping your gaze to the table between you.
"...I've been thinking about your smile since October."
Silence.
"...What?"
You immediately wished you could take the sentence back.
Not because it wasn't true. Because it was. Painfully true.
"You have this smile..." You gestured vaguely toward him, immediately regretting that decision too. "...where your eyes disappear."
"...Disappear?"
"They just..." You sighed quietly. "...They vanish whenever you laugh."
He stared.
"I noticed it during macroeconomics. You were laughing with Taesan."
You still couldn't look directly at him. Your fingers tightened around one another beneath the table.
"I was supposed to be reading."
Your shoulders lifted in an embarrassed little shrug.
"...I wasn't."
A helpless laugh slipped from your lips.
"I looked up. And then..." You paused. Then you smiled to yourself. "...I kept looking up."
Silence settled gently between you.
"I spent months telling myself I was only observing."
You laughed again, quieter this time.
"It sounded much smarter than admitting I had a crush on you."
His grin appeared almost immediately.
"It didn't work."
"...No." You shook your head. "Not even a little."
You finally looked at him properly.
"I noticed everything. The way teachers always stop to talk to you. The way you thank the cafeteria staff. The way you always wave to the security guard at the east gate before class."
Woonhak frowned.
"...I do?"
"You do."
His laugh escaped before he could stop it. Bright. Warm. Entirely familiar.
It made your own smile appear before you even realized it had.
You looked back at him. This time, you didn't look away.
"I think..." You smiled. "No, I know."
Now it was your turn to tell him what you felt.
"I like you too."
His smile lingered, softer now. It still made your heart forget how to behave.
Slowly, almost absentmindedly, his thumb gently brushed against your knuckles. The touch was featherlight.
You didn't even notice that he had already placed his hands on top of yours.
"...Can I kiss you?"
The question settled gently between the two of you.
Not rushed. Not uncertain. Simply offered. Every coherent thought disappeared.
You knew the answer. You had known it for much longer than you had ever been willing to admit.
Unfortunately, knowing the answer and being capable of saying it turned out to be two completely different things.
"I..."
Your brain had apparently resigned for the second time that evening.
Heat climbed steadily into your face as you searched for words that stubbornly refused to exist.
Across the table, Woonhak simply watched you. He wasn't impatient. He wasn't expecting an immediate answer.
If anything, the small smile on his face became gentler.
"...It's okay."
His voice was so calm it almost made your chest ache.
You finally looked up.
He hadn't moved any closer. Instead, his fingers had loosened ever so slightly around yours, the tiny movement carrying a reassurance words couldn't quite capture.
You could still pull away. You could still say no. Nothing would happen unless you wanted it to.
"We don't have to."
Another quiet smile.
"I just wanted you to know..." A tiny laugh escaped him. "...that I'd really like to."
Something inside you gave way.
Even now, after confessing everything, he was still making sure the decision belonged entirely to you.
Never in a million years had you imagined this. Not while secretly watching him laugh from three rows away. Not during every Wednesday afternoon spent pretending your heart wasn't becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Not through shared milk teas, unfinished songs, stray cat pictures, or chemistry worksheets covered in his dramatic complaints.
You had imagined getting over Kim Woonhak. You had also imagined quietly carrying your feelings until graduation.
You had never imagined this. Never imagined that the same boy whose smile had interrupted a macroeconomics chapter months ago would one day confess first. Ask if he could kiss you. Or become the first person to hold your hand like it already belonged there.
The realization washed over you all at once.
This wasn't another observation. This wasn't another daydream. This was very real.
"No... I..."
The word escaped before your thoughts could catch it.
Woonhak blinked. You immediately shook your head.
"I'm trying."
"I know."
He smiled.
There wasn't the slightest trace of disappointment in his voice. Only patience.
"Take your time."
That was somehow the final straw. Because he wasn't trying to rescue you from the silence. He was simply sharing it with you.
Slowly, almost shyly...
Your hand shifted beneath his.
The movement was so tentative that you barely realized what you were doing until your fingers found his properly for the first time.
Not by accident. Not because the two of you had reached for the same calculator. Not because your shoulders had brushed over shared notes.
Deliberately. Warm against warm. Your fingers settled naturally between his.
Comfortable. Like they'd somehow skipped the awkward part and already knew where they belonged.
You couldn't help smiling. Small. Embarrassed. Almost disbelieving.
Then, gathering every ounce of courage you still possessed, you looked back at him.
And nodded.
Just once.
It was barely noticeable. It didn't need to be.
Woonhak searched your face carefully, as though he wanted to be absolutely certain he hadn't imagined it.
"...Is that..." His voice had dropped to little more than a whisper. "...your answer?"
Speaking still felt impossibly difficult. So you nodded again. A little more confidently this time.
For a heartbeat, he simply stared at you.
Then the quietest smile you'd ever seen spread across his face. Not triumphant. Not relieved.
Wondering. As though part of him still couldn't quite believe that this was really happening.
"...Okay."
He breathed the word more than he spoke it.
Only then did his fingers gently curl around yours. Not tightly. Never possessively. Just enough to hold your hand properly.
His thumb traced one slow stroke across the back of your hand before his free hand lifted toward your face.
He paused. He waited one last time.
His fingertips brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek, tucking it carefully behind your ear.
You answered without words.
Almost unconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his hand.
His breath caught. The smile that followed was impossibly small.
Then, with all the care he'd shown you from the very beginning... he closed the remaining distance.
The kiss was so gentle that, for the briefest moment, it almost felt like another question.
You answered the only way you knew how. By kissing him back.
Tentatively at first. Then a little more surely. Just like the nod you'd given him moments earlier.
The world outside seemed to disappear.
There was only the quiet rhythm of rain against the library windows, the faint scent of paper and coffee, and the warmth of his hand still resting carefully in yours.
When the two of you finally pulled apart, neither of you spoke.
You simply looked at one another. Trying, and failing, to pretend your hearts weren't racing quite as loudly as they were.
Then.... there it was again.
His eyes disappeared first. Then the corners of his mouth lifted until his entire face seemed to smile all at once.
The very same smile that had interrupted a macroeconomics chapter six months ago. The one that had quietly followed you through every Wednesday afternoon, every shared milk tea, every unfinished song.
His snowman smile.
Without thinking, you smiled back. Really smiled.
Not the polite little curve of your lips you offered classmates. Not the restrained smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived.
This one stayed.
Woonhak's expression brightened even more. He looked at you with such uncomplicated fondness that you felt your face grow warm all over again.
Outside, the rain had almost stopped. The library lights flickered softly, reminding the few remaining students that it was nearly closing time.
Neither of you moved.
For just a little while longer, the world was no bigger than a quiet table by the window, two forgotten milk teas, and two hands that no longer had any reason to let go.
There is a particular kind of miracle in realizing that the person you've quietly loved from afar has been quietly finding their way toward you, too.
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