Seonghyeon had always been a quiet boy. The kind of quiet that made people forget he was in the room until he spoke, and when he did, everyone listened. He spent most of his time buried in books, scribbling in notebooks, or hunched over a sewing machine with fabric draped over his shoulders like a second skin. While everyone else seemed to know exactly how to exist around people, Seonghyeon preferred the company of his own thoughts.

And for the past few months, his attention had been occupied by you.

You noticed it first in the library. His eyes lingering over the top of his book, fixed on you for a second too long before dropping back to the page. Then in the hallways, where he would watch you pass with the same unreadable expression. Sometimes, you caught him staring through the reflection of a window, and other times, you would turn your head and find his eyes already on you.

He never approached you.

Not until one afternoon, when you were packing your things after class.

Seonghyeon stood beside your desk, clutching a thick, leather-bound notebook to his chest. Up close, he seemed even more reserved than you had imagined. His uniform was immaculate, his hair neatly arranged, and his fingers bore the faintest traces of ink.