The sky held that pale hue, somewhere between grey and blue, as if the sun hesitated to show itself that morning. A fine drizzle fell on the glistening sidewalks of Seoul, caressing passersby with a damp, almost soft breath. In this blurred light, two figures struggled at the end of an alley. Nothing new in this neighborhood. Another score settled, more high schoolers with more rage than future. And yet...
Y/N's camera captured everything.
She wasn't there for them. She was filming another shot, an urban life scene for an experimental montage. Y/N loved the textures of the city, the way sounds and movements overlapped like a chaotic symphony. But her lens had slipped for a moment. Just a moment. And in that fleeting instant, she had captured them: two boys. One frail, intelligent, calm like an inner storm. The other, a living fire, sure, quick, powerful blows. And that look...
Ahn Su-ho.
She hadn't deleted the video. Not because she was looking for trouble. She simply found the scene beautiful. An almost choreographed, rhythmic brutality, and above all, that silent tension between the two boys. A kind of raw loyalty. She had posted a short excerpt, blurring the faces. The video had gone viral. She didn't really understand why.
Two days later, he was there. In front of her high school. The rain was now just a memory. Su-ho, dressed in his slightly crumpled uniform, had his hands in his pockets, his gaze furious, his cheeks flushed from the cold or annoyance. She recognized him immediately.
"Is that you?" he asked. "Were you the one who filmed?"
His voice was deep, slightly hoarse. Not threatening. But there was a tension in his shoulders, as if he was holding himself back from exploding. Y/N, calm, looked at him for a long moment before answering.
"It's blurry. You can't see anyone clearly."
He sighed, ran a hand through his hair.
"That's not the problem. If someone recognizes Si-eun, he could get into trouble. And so could I. Delete it."
She shook her head.
"It's a work of art. I don't delete my works."
He stared at her, incredulous. His face tightened with annoyance.
"Seriously? You want to be an artist? This puts us in danger."
"I blurred the faces."
"You think that's enough?"
She shrugged. She wasn't provoking him. She was simply... sincere. Y/N never smiled without a reason. That day, she didn't smile. But she didn't lower her eyes either. And Su-ho noticed that.
It was Si-eun who solved the problem. As always. A week later, Su-ho told him about the scene.
"She won't delete it. That girl is stubborn."
Si-eun gave him a slow look, like an exasperated teacher.
"I'll ask her. I'm sure she'll say yes."
"And why would she say yes to you?"
"Because I didn't try to scare her."
Si-eun was right. Two days later, the video was offline. And Su-ho had no more excuses to think about her.
But he thought about her anyway.
He found her annoying. Absolutely frustrating. And, in a way, fascinating. She wasn't like the others. Not because she was mysterious or silent, but because she seemed to have an unwavering inner compass. She knew what she wanted. What she didn't want. And she wasn't going to bend to his demands, even though he could take down five guys without batting an eyelid.
It wasn't until Si-eun asked her, in a calm but firm tone, that she finally deleted the video. Without complaint. Without justification. Just a nod, and the clip disappeared from her phone as if it had never existed.
Su-ho should have moved on.
But he didn't.
He started to notice her. To watch for her passing. Sometimes, he lingered for no reason near her high school. Just... in case. And sometimes, he would run into her, and she would give him a neutral, almost bored look, but he felt his heart leap as if he had just run a marathon.
He didn't know what it was, that warmth in his chest, that need to see her, even for a second. He didn't understand why he smiled like an idiot when he thought about her calm demeanor, her composed voice. Y/N soothed him as much as she annoyed him.
A ball of energy, Su-ho. Always ready to fight to defend, to protect. But in front of her, he became clumsy. He would flirt sometimes, to mask what he didn't yet understand. And she... she didn't laugh at his jokes. But she listened to him. And that was worse. It touched him more than any forced laughter.
Then there was that night at the restaurant. He worked sometimes after school. He loved that little job. Serving, joking with customers, feeling the warmth of the kitchen, hearing the clatter of dishes and conversations. It was alive. Like him.
And she was there.
Sitting alone, a notebook in front of her. She was drawing, or taking notes, he didn't know. He approached, his heart beating faster than usual.
"Are you lost? Or did you come to see the most handsome waiter in Seoul?"
She looked up. Her calm gaze pierced him like a blade.
"I came to eat."
He laughed. Really laughed. This girl had a knack for breaking his opening lines.
"In that case, you're in luck. My service is exceptional."
"I'll judge for myself."
She still wasn't smiling. But there was a spark in the depths of her eyes. As if she was slowly letting herself be contaminated by his light.
And that night, he knew. He knew. He was screwed.
In love.
Not with an idea. Not with a fantasy. With her. With her silences. With her rigor. With her way of being upright in a crooked world. He loved her like one loves a rare light. A star fallen in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and yet so bright that one cannot help but reach out.
He talked to Si-eun about it one night as they walked in silence after a tense confrontation.
"I think I'm in love," he said simply.
Si-eun raised an eyebrow.
"Y/N?"
Su-ho stared at him, mouth slightly open.
"You knew?"
"You shine when you talk about her."
Su-ho smiled faintly.
"She's... different."
"Stop. You already said that."
"Damn it. Okay... Do you think it's possible? To love someone like that? For no reason? Just because when I think about her, I feel like everything else gets lighter?"
Si-eun, who wasn't one for giving advice, replied in a calm tone:
"I think that's the best reason."
And Su-ho began to dream. Not of fairy tales. Just of simple moments. Of sharing. Of seeing her smile. A real smile. He didn't care if he was "good enough" for her. Those kinds of thoughts sometimes gnawed at him, especially when he saw himself as a fighting, impulsive, rough boy. But there was an immense tenderness within him. A capacity to love without measure. And that tenderness, Y/N deserved it.
He didn't want to save her. She didn't need saving.
He just wanted to... walk beside her.
And he hoped, more than anything, that one day she would let him.
---
The next day, it rained again. Not the same soft drizzle as at the beginning of their story, no. This time, it was a more distinct rain, almost vibrant, as if the sky shared a certain nervousness.
Y/N had stopped under the high school awning, nervously rummaging through her bag. She knew it. Her notebook wasn't there anymore. And she wasn't stupid—she knew exactly where she had forgotten it. On that small restaurant table, half-hidden under her coat.
And above all, she knew who had found it.
When Su-ho arrived, soaked despite his hood, he spotted her right away. He had that look, a little playful, a little too bright. He approached silently, slipped his hand into his backpack, and pulled out the black notebook, one corner slightly dog-eared.
"I believe you left something," he said, his voice calm but his gaze filled with a mocking gleam.
She snatched the notebook, a little too quickly, as if she wanted to shield it from his eyes. But it was too late. He had seen it. And not just seen it. He had read it.
"Page 17," he murmured, feigning distraction. "Nice drawing. I'm even more handsome in a drawing than in real life, don't you think?"
She froze, her fingers clenched on the cover. She looked up at him. That look. Always the same. Calm. Cold, for some. But Su-ho knew. She was boiling inside.
"You read it," she said simply. It wasn't a question.
He shrugged, looking a little guilty but mostly, sincerely moved.
"Just a little. By accident. Well... page 17, then 18... 19... I got a little carried away."
A silence. Then he continued, taking a folded piece of paper from the notebook's cover.
"I added something. I hope you don't mind. It's at the end."
She opened it. Slowly. And there, on the last page, was a drawing of her. Clumsy, clearly not done by a hand used to art. But touching. There she was, head down, focused, with that little crease between her eyebrows she made when she was thinking.
And below it, he had written, in slightly shaky handwriting:
"I think I like her too... maybe even a little too much. And given the masterpiece she made of me, I think we're meant to be a team."
She closed the notebook. Slowly. Her heart was beating too fast. He saw it, she knew it. He read her. And strangely, she didn't want to run away this time.
"A team, huh?" she said finally, without any apparent emotion.
"A dream team," he replied with a wink. "You film, I punch. You draw, I model. You create silences, I fill them with nonsense."
And for the first time since he had known her, she smiled. Not a half-smile. A real one. Slight. Shy. But there.
Su-ho looked surprised. Then, slowly, he smiled too. Not his usual superficial smile. Not his smile to deflect. A real one.
"You see, you're even more beautiful when you smile," he whispered.
After Su-ho falls into a coma, Si-eun is consumed by guilt and isolation, pushing everyone away—even you, the one who stayed.
Yeon Si-eun x gn! Reader
takes place when Su-ho fell into a coma, mild angst, hurt with comfort, slow burn, it gets lighter towards the end I swear
wc: 6k+
an: Hello! This is my first time writing for whc, and I love Si-eun so much (I'm a Si-eun truther fr) anyways, this might be a little study on his psyche after the events of Su-ho, like how it affected him emotionally, physically, and socially. (So this is going to be LONGG) And it makes me wonder how he dealt with that and how someone could possibly help him. I hope you can enjoy this fic!
Edit: this turned out longer than I expected😭 each scenes are separated by a divider!!
It’s strange how guilt works. It consumes unforgivably, and it doesn't matter whether the person deserves it or not.
Si-eun was no exception as he stood transfixed, gazing at Su-ho's motionless body. The rhythmic hiss of the ventilator, the only sound breaking the silence, seemed like a cruel irony—a mechanical substitute for life, barely sustaining Su-ho's fragile existence. The mere thought that his friend might be slipping away, irretrievable, sent a chill down Si-eun's spine, filling him with an unspeakable dread.
How did it all happen so fast? He does not know. It’s beyond his knowledge. No amount of textbooks can give him the answers that he needs.
Because when he finally finds something good, something tangible, he has to be the one to watch it all crumble away.
Si-eun admits he isn’t good with friends.
God, much less a friend group that has an odd mix of people. He, the ‘human calculator’ as the others would comment, you and Beom-seok being the new transferees, and Su-ho, who has made the school his home. He’d grumble, brood, and even nearly stuff his ears with cotton because the combined noises that his three friends made were equal to an entire classroom during break time.
He clung to the memories of those chaotic moments, cherishing every second as if they had occurred yesterday. It felt like an eternity ago when he was desperately trying to keep their group from falling apart. He vividly recalled the struggles of understanding Beom-seok's motives on Young-yi, of restraining both you and Su-ho from making reckless decisions, as the situation spiraled out of control like a runaway train.
The weight of those responsibilities still lingered, making his heart heavy with the burden of what could have been.
Jealousy happened,
Secrets were made.
Punches were landed.
And kicks were delivered to the head.
Now, you and Si-eun were left with the debris of the destruction. Both left to gather the pieces, desperately trying to go back to how it was before. Even when the damage had already been done.
That would have been okay, a lesson-learned moment. Just start again, right? But as you gazed into Si-eun's eyes, you realized that he, too, was spiraling gradually, with his grip on reality being tenuous at best.
And god, how much you wanted a solution to everything. But how could you make one when even Si-eun can’t?
So now, you are here. In a classroom that has become a shell.
Sometimes, if you doze off during a lecture or if you close your eyes a little tighter, you could hear it—the cackles of laughter, the teasing, and the little calculated voice that always comes right after. You can sense it too, in the air, where something or someone is missing. And you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the empty seat next to the door.
You glance around the classroom, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Your gaze falls on your classmates, who are chatting and laughing with each other, completely carefree. It's as if they're oblivious to the pain and suffering you and Si-eun endured, like they're living in a different world.
The bitter, awful taste settles in your mouth, like a sour lemon drop dissolving on your tongue. You can't help but wonder how they can be so normal, so indifferent, while you're still reeling from the trauma. It's like they're pretending nothing ever happened, and that's what makes it so infuriating.
But really, it felt like you were on your own with suffering.
You look towards Si-eun, honing in on his textbooks as usual, posture slightly slouched as he takes notes, earbuds stuffed into his ears. From an outsider's view, it just looks like Si-eun being Si-eun.
But for you? There’s tension all around him. The guilt and suffering are too suffocating when you get close. What was once warm between you two has now turned cold and stale. His back faces your front, acting as a wall, and he sits there in front of you like a stranger.
And oh, how it toyed with your heart. Because this was your only friend left.
Young-yi was gone, having distanced herself from your group ever since she saw the state Su-ho was in. It makes sense to stick closer to Si-eun. To figure out a way to slowly mend things. To be there for Su-ho until he wakes up.
But no matter how much you stared, knowing that Si-eun could feel your intense gaze, he would not look back. He would not even acknowledge you.
He left you there in your world. And for the entire day, you switched between staring at the empty pages of your notebook and the empty seat beside the door.
“Si-eun.”
.
“Si-eun, it’s lunch time, we should get something to eat.”
He hasn’t been eating, you noticed. Like you also noticed the heavy bags under his eyes or how pale and cracked his lips have gotten. He can keep pushing you away if that’s what he wants. But you're firm. You'll wait patiently, ready to offer a lifeline when he's ready to accept it.
He does not say anything. Not even spared you a glance as he took out his earbuds and crossed his arms to lay his head down on the table.
You stood frozen, a statue of silence, as the heavy air between you hung like a challenge.
But you didn’t push. You left and came back to leave snacks on the space beside his head—a silent way of saying that you were still there, and you were going to wait for him to come to you when he was ready.
And that was it.
For weeks, you orbited his world, a constant but invisible presence. Not touching, not speaking, just silently there. And as you gazed at his back, a mix of concern and longing swirled within you, leaving you to wonder if somehow, you could absorb the weight of his guilt. To ease the pain that seemed to pull him down. To set him free.
Si-eun: “Su-ho, today felt just the same as it did weeks ago. I visited your grandmother last night. She’s okay. She told me Young-yi still calls now and then. Dropping by on the rare occasion, and she seems to be okay as well. I’m being transferred to a new school soon after finals. Thankfully, it’s not too far from here. I hope you’re doing well. Wake up soon.”
You and Si-eun would visit the hospital after school.
In reality, though, it felt more like shadowing Si-eun as you followed him. It had been a while since you walked beside him. For some reason, the closeness of that felt too much. It’s like the tension between the two of you would pop if you stayed too close. It made your hands clammy and your jaw tense while you tried to focus on matching his footsteps to ground yourself.
You’re both so painfully aware of each other that it hurts. Breathing the same oxygen, sharing the same memories—and yet he’s so close, but so far. You missed him.
Moments like these, you wished he would say something. Anything. Tell you to leave him alone, or stay, or just acknowledge that you existed in his orbit. That he can still see you.
But he was quiet.
To the hospital, and to the room where Su-ho stayed. He didn’t go inside, though. He stayed outside, typing away on his phone.
He was always like that, you noticed. You’re always the one inside. And maybe it was because the reality of Su-ho's condition was too difficult for Si-eun to confront. Maybe he forced himself to imagine his friend as usual, complaining about the unnecessary hospital stay, or pleading for some seaweed soup.
As Si-eun's thumbs danced across the screen, you suspected that he was sending messages to Su-ho, clinging to the hope that his friend would soon respond, and everything would go back to normal.
“Su-ho, look, your favorite drink was in stock this morning.” You brought Su-ho’s favorite drink this time. You hoped that the mention of it would make him wake up, say something cheesy and teasing while happily accepting the drink.
Sitting down at the cold, hard hospital chair, the drink in one hand, you took in the sight of your motionless friend.
The stillness was unnerving, and you felt an overwhelming urge to leave, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room. The antiseptic smell, a pungent mix of disinfectant and stagnation, hung heavy in the air, making your head spin.
You didn’t want to stay too long. You know Su-ho would hate that too. You also hated the stupid beeping of his heart monitor. It was supposed to be a reassurance, a sign that he was still clinging to life, but to you, it felt like a cruel taunt, a harsh reminder of his fragile state.
Your eyes turned glassy as you recounted the past few weeks. A lump forms in your throat as you tell the struggles of trying to be there for Si-eun, trying to wake him up from the guilt that he buried himself in.
A guilt and suffering so raw and all-consuming that you can feel yourself getting drowned in it too.
You squeezed the drink in your hand as you let out a sob. Your voice became shaky and jumbled. Phrases broke as you tried to make sense of everything. You felt defeated, as the world you once knew was no longer there.
And finally, you fell.
You fell on the fragile structure you made yourself stand in—the structure that you offered to Si-eun as a lifeline for both of you, and a silent plea that you would, and could, carry some of his burdens too. That you and your remaining friend can share the weight of it all.
Sobs shattered your entire body, no longer caring if Si-eun could hear you. You were so tired, so exhausted from keeping your own emotions in check so as not to overwhelm Si-eun with your desperation and weakness.
And as if the universe itself was mocking your despair, it rained hard. The thunderstorm matched the whimpers you let out as you held onto the drink.
You felt nothing. You felt like nothing but the overwhelming buzz of pain and desperation beneath your skin. Your head pounded with the rhythmic sounds of Su-ho’s heart monitor, your eyes blurring and unblurring each time you tried to wipe away the downpour of tears.
Overwhelmed with so much emotion, your mind gave control to your body as you abruptly stood up—the scrape of the chair against the hospital’s floor left unheard as your cries filled the room.
And you did the only thing your body wanted to do.
You ran.
You ran out of the room where your friend was tethered.
You ran away from Si-eun, his worried call of your name falling on deaf ears.
You ran out of the hospital, and in doing so, you abandoned the world you once knew.
The rain welcomed you like you belonged there, underneath the merciless droplets as your clothes became wet and soggy, clinging uncomfortably to your figure as you tried to quell your tears.
You held your chest tightly, trying to breathe and letting the rain wash out your tears. Your legs felt like lead, your body drained from the adrenaline rush that had left you spent.
You felt like sitting and wallowing in your puddle of despair without a care in the world, even if it would ruin your pants, and really, you didn’t mean to be dramatic, but you were just so confused; you and your friends are just a bunch of high schoolers.
The complexity of the situation seemed to mock your naivety, leaving you wondering how something so ordinary could unravel into such chaos.
Before you fell any further, the rain suddenly stopped. You no longer feel the droplets of water hitting your body, and you are left shivering in the cold. Slowly, you turned around
And he was there.
Yeon Si-eun was there. His face contorted to a mix of genuine concern and fear. His dark, doe eyes are glassy, almost begging you to tell him what’s wrong as he shakily holds out an umbrella over your head. You noticed his labored breathing, almost panting.
You wondered if he had chased after you. His clothes were damp, too, and you saw that the umbrella only protected half of his body.
In that moment, the rain-soaked world around you melted away, and all that mattered was the fragile connection between you and Si-eun.
He whispered your name, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, but before he could continue, you interrupted him. Your voice was laced with a mix of emotions—pain, sadness, and a hint of anger.
“Hey, Si-eun.” You gave him a pained smile. Your grin not reaching your eyes as a scoff escaped your lips, a sound that was both bitter and disbelieving. You weren't even sure yourself what emotion was driving it.
“Is this how you feel? Every day?” You asked the question, your voice barely above a whisper.
You stared right back at his eyes, and for once, Si-eun saw the hollowness that yours held. He didn’t reply. He just gazed, his eyes drilling into yours, searching for something, anything, that could explain the void you were carrying.
But he couldn't hold your gaze for long. His eyes wavered, dropping to the wet ground beneath his feet, as if the weight of your words had become too much to bear. Suddenly, he was aware of everything around him—the sound of rain, the feel of the cold air on his skin, the smell of wet clothes clinging to his body, and your disheveled state.
“Look at me, Si-eun.”
He doesn’t, he couldn’t. He’s trying to wrack his mind for something. Something to solve this. Something to fix every—
“I said, look at me when I’m talking to you!”
You grasped his shoulders as you let out another broken plea, the sudden action making him drop the umbrella that was protecting both of you from the rain. The material of his jacket wrinkled under your shaky grip as you looked right into him.
“Su-ho…he’s not gone. He’s still there. You know how strong he is. We both know that.” You lightly shook him as you spoke, as if trying to shake him awake while you broke down in front of him.
“But why, why do I feel like you’re the one who’s gone?”
“I’m right here–”
“No, you’re not!” You cried out in desperation.
And he finally looks. His mouth was slightly agape as he tried to find the right words to say. It was too much for him. The vulnerability that you bared for him. The pain that you held in your eyes, as he could feel every tremor of your hand on his jacket. He realized then that he can’t logic his way out of this.
Because Si-eun had always been the rational one. He solved things, Fixed things. Calculated outcomes and plotted next moves like it was all a chess game. But this..you?.. You weren’t an equation. He couldn’t use his pen. Couldn’t punch it out or bury it in a textbook behind silence. And that terrified him more than anything.
“He’s not coming back any faster, no matter how much you ignore me.”
For a heartbeat, there was only the sound of rain. No umbrellas. No pretense. Just the two of you, soaked and broken, under the weight of what had been lost and what still could be.
You said that last sentence in a whisper. Almost like an ultimatum. You were tired, spent, maybe about to get a fever from the cold and rain. You shakily let go of his shoulders. The sorrow in your eyes returned to its empty state the longer that Si-eun was silent.
Half-expecting him to walk away, you started to leave. Maybe to go back to your home, or a convenience store. You weren’t sure. You just wanted to be away from everything.
But before your second step even landed, you felt it. His hand wraps gently around your wrist, lightly squeezing as if begging you not to go. Not yet.
You hated that you stopped. Hated that part of you still wanted him to stop you. That some fragile, stubborn corner of your heart had hoped he’d reach for you. Just once. Just this once. Even after what you went through to finally get to him. This was your last prayer, whispered in silence.
And he heard it. Not in words, not even in the tremble of your breath, but in the way your wrist stilled under his touch, not pulling away. And the air between you was thick with everything you didn’t say. Every apology left unspoken. Every moment lost in hesitation. His hand was still on yours, unsure, as if he was still trying to figure out whether he had the right to hold you there. Or maybe he had already lost that right long ago.
But he held on anyway.
His hand remained on your wrist. Warm and almost grounding.
“Don’t go.” It sounded like a plea. Soft and wavering and so unlike the Si-eun you knew.
“I know I don’t deserve to ask that.” He added. Catching his breath for a moment while you silently listened. “After everything.”
Si-eun was aware of what he did when he distanced himself from you, his last friend. He can practically feel the desperation in your voice whenever you try to talk to him. Or every time you left food on his desk when lunchtime rolled around at school. He knew the turmoil that you were also quietly suffering in, and how his guilt slowly turned into your guilt, and his sorrow became your sorrow.
Your silence urged him to continue.
“I thought if I kept you away..I wouldn’t break anything more than I already had.” You can hear how much it cost him to say those words. He was hesitant; you can feel it in the way his grip on your wrist wavered. It was almost as if he wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to go. He won’t force you to stay.
And that’s what undid you.
You turned. You finally looked at him and you saw his eyes, red, puffy, and tired. His face was flushed from how freezing it was to stay in the rain. He looked like a boy. It made you realize how messed up all of this was. Both of you were too small for a world so big, and the burdens too heavy to carry for some high schoolers who were supposed to be reviewing for the next exam.
“I wasn’t asking you to fix anything, Si-eun.”
“I know. I see that now”
“What happened to Su-ho… It wasn’t your fault.”
He was stunned by that. His lips slightly quivered from the cold or your words, he wasn’t sure. It felt like a dam finally broke within him. And with it came silent tears. Not loud, not visible at first. Just the kind that slipped quietly from his eyes, mingling with the rain on his cheeks. The kind of crying that looked more like surrender than sorrow. A collapse too quiet to be noticed unless someone was looking.
You were.
The wound was still fresh on him, seeing Su-ho stuck on that bed became his daily nightmare, and what he did out of revenge didn’t make it any better.
For a moment, you pulled away from him and bent down to pick up the discarded umbrella, bringing it over both of you, even though you and Si-eun were already soaked to the bone.
“You don’t have to go through it alone, Si-eun.”
Finally, it feels like a weight has been lifted off both you and Si-eun. It wasn’t completely gone, of course. The pressure and the mark it left stayed there as both you and Si-eun went about your days. After that moment in the rain, you felt like you cracked his walls a little. Hope was renewed, and you had something new to cling to.
A silent routine fell between you. In the early mornings, you both walked to school, always meeting at an intersection before continuing up the street. Sometimes you would ask how he is or if he has eaten breakfast. He would do a one-word answer that was typical of him or just nod at what you’re saying.
It wasn’t like before when there was Su-ho, Beom-seok, or even Young-yi. The rowdiness of your once-friend group has left something peaceful. You missed all of it, of course. But change was change, and you accepted this one, albeit reluctantly.
You’d always admired him. His sharp mind, his laser-like focus, the way he could tune out the entire world for the sake of a problem set. It was impressive. Annoyingly so. He was the kind of student who made teachers beam and classmates groan.
But Jesus, did he ever stop?
Your physics teacher was deep in a monotonous rant about projectile motion, gravity, and God knows what else, his voice dragging across the room like nails on a chalkboard made of sleep deprivation. Meanwhile, you were locked in a life-or-death battle to keep your head from surrendering to gravity in the most literal sense. One more droning equation and you were going to face-plant into your desk, no hesitation.
So, naturally, your only reasonable option to stay alert and awake?
Challenge Si-eun, distract the genius. Stir the unshakable.
Si-eun, for his part, was completely focused. He took down notes as the lecture went on. Ignoring everything and everyone around him. It has been a while since the noise in his head finally settled. He started to sleep a little easier now, and he no longer felt too bitter about switching schools with you. Besides, he could still visit Su-ho as the hospital was a walking distance away from the building and—
Thwack!
A crumpled piece of paper nailed him right on the back of the head. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to derail whatever train of thought he was riding and bring it crashing into the station. The paper hit his collar, bounced, then rolled dramatically down his shoulder before falling onto the floor.
Si-eun blinked. Pen paused mid-stroke. He didn't even need to look back.
There was only one person bold enough to mess with him during a lecture like this.
You.
And God help you, you were grinning.
You were already leaning forward by the time he straightened up, chin propped lazily on your hand, an innocent expression on your face that was anything but innocent. Your eyes met the back of his head like you were waiting for him to combust. You can see it. The way his attention wavered, and he stopped drawing stupid diagrams. Days with Si-eun no longer felt cold or heavy. Things were finally starting to get better.
And there is no way in hell he is going to continue listening to how Newton just made math even more complicated.
When he didn’t turn around, you leaned in closer, voice just above a whisper. “Hey, Einstein.”
And finally, Si-eun sighed through his nose, eyes flicking toward the crumpled paper now lying sadly on the floor like a fallen soldier. He could already predict what would happen next.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” you asked, blinking. “I haven’t even said anything.”
“You’re thinking loud enough.”
A grin curled at your lips, mischievous and playful. Just the fact he was entertaining you with banter was already more brownie points for you. You have him hooked. “Good. Saves me the trouble of whispering.”
Still no turn. Still scribbling notes. Classic Si-eun. So you upped the ante.
You gently tapped the back of his chair with your foot. Once. Then again. A steady rhythm before you decide to drop the greatest idea you've ever had.
Now he turned. Just slightly. Head tilting enough to give you the meanest side-eye to ever exist as if to question your entire being. So, you responded in kind with a raise of your brow as if challenging him. He only blinked before letting out a sigh.
“You want me to skip class. Physics, of all things. To do what exactly?”
Finally. “Convenience store run. Ramyeon, hot canned coffee, maybe strawberry milk if you’re feeling nostalgic. You, me, fluorescent lights, freedom.”
You gave him a playful wink, your fingers drumming against the desk steadily and loud enough because you were trying to distract him from the teacher’s announcement of an upcoming quiz, and you weren’t losing your progress of finally getting back your friend. The bond was a little shaky, but you decided that baby steps were better than nothing.
In reality, though, Si-eun already knew about that quiz. It was announced a week ago during a lecture where you were fast asleep on your table. Drooling.
“Tempting,” he muttered, but you caught the flicker of amusement behind his eyes.
“I know you’re hungry,” you added, nudging his chair one more time. “And don’t lie and say you’re not, because your stomach made a noise two minutes ago. It sounded like a dying bear.”
“That was your pen falling.”
“No, that was my patience falling.”
He gave you a long, exasperated look—but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, there was something else there. The smallest tug at the corner of his mouth. A softening. You could almost see the scales tipping, and it only made you grin even wider. Suddenly, you didn’t care about what was happening around you. Not when you finally find that little smile that you have been working on to bring back.
And then you said, more quietly this time, “Come on, Si-eun. Just one break. The world won’t fall apart if you breathe for forty-five minutes.”
A peaceful quiet sat between you for a second. He knew what you meant, and you didn’t have to say it. He’d been carrying too much. Always pushing and enduring. There were times he would go back to his self-wallowing, where he would still accidentally push you away, and studying has always been his escape.
But today, you were offering something else. A moment outside the pressure, the guilt, the relentless pace of trying to be okay.
He looked down at his open notebook, the half-finished diagram of an arcing projectile staring back at him like it, too, was trying to convince him to stay.
And then he exhaled. A quiet, almost imperceptible surrender, and he began packing up his things.
You blinked. Leaning over his shoulder to confirm what you were witnessing, “Wait… seriously?”
“You want to go or not?” he said, zipping up his bag without meeting your eyes. “Before I change my mind and remember I have a conscience.”
You shot up from your seat, already grabbing your bag. “You had a conscience?”
“Don’t push it.”
Thankfully, the teacher didn’t care. Si-eun was transferring, and he is an excellent student on his own.
And you..well, you’re transferring with him.
The sun slanted low through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the dusty shelves. The library was near silent, the kind of quiet that felt sacred, like even time had been asked to hold its breath as students slowly filtered out of the library until it’s just you, Si-eun, and a handful of other students who buried their noses into books.
You sat across from Si-eun at one of the back tables, your notebooks spread out in disorganized chaos, while his were stacked neatly, probably even color-coded by subject, knowing him. Between the two of you were a handful of empty candy wrappers from the snacks you'd brought. Well, mostly for yourself..Si-eun had eaten two, while you’d somehow managed six. You weren’t sure why you were keeping count.
The original plan was simple: study together, then head out to visit Su-ho at the hospital. That was the plan, anyway.
But at some point, the words on the pages had begun to blur.
Si-eun leaned back in his chair slightly, brows furrowed in focus, scribbling notes into the margin of his textbook. You were supposed to be solving a physics problem, but instead, you watched him and the way the sunlight caught in the strands of his hair, how his mouth moved just slightly when he read in his head.
Has he always looked like this?
Peaceful and just absorbed in his world, but not in a bad way. You felt some pride to see how much you and he have improved compared to a few weeks ago, and Si-eun’s resilience was one of the things you admire about him.
Until you couldn’t tell where admiration ended and something else began.
You didn’t mean to speak. It just... slipped out.
“You look peaceful like this.”
His pen paused mid-stroke.
He didn’t look up immediately. You could see his shoulders tense slightly and the way his eyes blinked once, then twice, like he’d heard something he wasn’t sure he was supposed to. Because it wasn’t one of the things he predicted you would say. Maybe another convenience run to abandon all school work. But not..this.
A long moment passed.
“I’m just studying,” he said finally, voice low, almost cautious, his words carefully picked out.
“I know. That’s what makes it weird,” you replied, a soft tease in your voice to disguise the trembling truth underneath as you continued to look at him. Like, really…look. To others, it’s creepy and a little unnerving. But for you? You were just appreciating him. His doe eyes, the long flutter of his lashes, and the gentle slope of his n—
He glanced up now, eyes catching yours, and the look there was unreadable. Careful, guarded. Like, he wasn’t sure what page you were both suddenly on. But it felt like at that moment, you were sure you knew where you wanted to be.
You leaned forward just a little, elbows on the table, fingers grazing the edge of his notes.
“You don’t let yourself rest much,” you said. “Not really. But right now… You look like you can breathe.”
Si-eun blinked, clearly thrown by the tenderness in your tone.
He opened his mouth. Maybe to change the subject, maybe to deflect with sarcasm or just deadpan at you and throw something monotonous and witty—but then he stopped. Closed it again. The moment felt too raw, too vulnerable, and he knew he wasn’t good with moments like these.
Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest. Something new and foreign, and Si-eun doesn’t know if he likes it or not.
Hesitantly, he lets that feeling consume him.
“I don’t know how to anymore,” he admitted quietly. “Breathe, I mean. Not unless it’s for someone else’s sake.”
The words landed between you like a confession. Raw and unguarded. And you blinked slowly at him, as if trying to process the words he just said.
You let the silence settle, not awkward, but reverent. You reached forward, slowly, and placed your hand beside his on the table. Not touching. Just there. Close enough to feel the warmth that radiated off of him. Just close. Close enough to feel the quiet warmth radiating from his skin. There had been no tension before, but now it hummed softly between you, fragile and electric.
And in that moment, you knew everything between you and Si-eun was about to change.
He looked down at your hand that was beside his. He felt frozen in his place, unsure of what to do next.
“You don’t always have to hold everything alone,” you said. “I seriously meant what I said a few weeks ago. You don’t have to go through it alone, Si-eun.”
“I know.”
It was a Thursday.
Nothing remarkable about it, at least on the surface. It was the kind of day that existed simply to pass time, quietly folding itself into the end of the week.
The halls had emptied hours ago. On days like these, students tend to want to leave a lot earlier. Friday was just tomorrow, after all.
But for you and Si-eun, it was just another day closer to getting transferred. To start anew. Or even better, another day wherein both of you could stay longer in Su-ho’s room and do your homework there.
But today?
You woke up feeling different. Not your usual happy self. You figured it was just one of those days where the air felt heavy, and some things around you reminded you of the reality that you lived in. An empty seat beside the door, or the fact that you still held so much concern for Beom-seok.
It made you feel sick.
The entire day went by in a blur, and you just lay down on your crossed arms, trying to cover your ears to subtly muffle the noise around you. Even Si-eun noticed it.
He noticed you.
Your clipped and short answers. Your blank stare outside the window of the classroom. The way you barely touched your food.
So he came up with an excuse.
At the end of the class, he made you sit down with your books while he offered to guide you through your homework. Something about kinetic energy and inclined planes, but your brain was too tired to cooperate. Too full of everything else. Everything unspoken.
Everything you had been holding in was like water behind a dam. Breathing became a chore, and blinking became too tiresome.
You sat together in the corner of the classroom, desks pushed together, books open but long forgotten.
You weren’t sure what was heavier. The ache in your chest or the silence between you. But you weren’t trying to solve the problems anymore, and neither was he. His pencil had stopped moving ten minutes ago when he noticed you were no longer listening and saw the subtle quiver of your lips on his peripheral vision.
You sat in that quiet, not strained, but fragile. And you were the first to shift.
Your hand brushed his, accidentally at first. Then… not.
He didn’t move away.
His hand was warm, a little rough, as if the world had asked too much of him too young. But it grounded you. The moment you felt it, the weight and reality of it? Something inside you cracked open. You hadn’t realized how much you needed something steady until it was there. Until he was there. This... was his way of carrying your burdens, too.
You didn’t say anything.
Words felt like they’d cheapen it.
Instead, you let your body speak the truth your mouth couldn’t form. You leaned, slowly, carefully, until your head came to rest against Si-eun’s shoulder.
At first, he went still. Rigid.
He didn’t know how to do this, how to be this. A safe place. Not when he was used to being sharp edges and deadly intelligence, used to carrying his grief and guilt like armor.
But then you sighed. Barely audible, a breath more than a sound, and something in him shifted.
He let you stay.
He let himself want it.
And in doing so, he finally made peace, albeit briefly, with the storm inside him.
The vulnerability still frightened him, though. That you could see through him like this. That you knew he wasn’t always strong. That there were parts of him still bleeding, still unsure. He didn’t know what this meant, what you meant—but for the first time, he didn’t want to shut the feeling down. He didn’t want to retreat into his silence.
Because you too felt like a safe place for him amidst the trauma that you and he shared.
You made sense in a way that terrified him.
And as he sat there, your head warm against his shoulder, your breaths slowing, your fingers still close enough to find his again if you wanted to, he realized something he hadn’t dared put into words until now.
He didn’t want to let go of this.
He didn’t want to let go of you.
And it scared him more than anything, how right it all felt.
How much the two of you made sense.
Anddd that’s it! Thank you soso much for reaching the end!! My phone and laptop were lagging like crazy trying to edit this so I tried to make it as readable as possible for everyone😭 I went thru about three revisions but if there’s any wrong grammar im so sorry!!
dividers by: @/uzmacchiato
