The final bell rang, and I was already halfway through stuffing my books into my bag when a shadow fell over my desk.
"Come with me," Dae-hyun said simply, his voice firm, like it wasn't a question at all.
I froze. "W-Where?"
He didn't answer right away. Just slung his bag over his shoulder, staring down at me with that unreadable expression of his. The kind that made everyone else avoid him, but for some reason, made me feel… noticed.
I hesitated. If I went straight home, I'd be walking into another storm. But going anywhere with Dae-hyun? My stomach twisted nervously.
"Don't make me repeat myself," he muttered, already walking toward the door.
Before I could stop myself, I scrambled up and followed.
The park wasn't far from school, just a few blocks down. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, painting everything gold. Kids laughed near the playground, couples strolled hand in hand, and I… I walked a step behind him, clutching my bag like a shield.
"You always walk like someone's chasing you," Dae-hyun said suddenly, glancing over his shoulder.
I stiffened. "I-I don't."
"You do," he said flatly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Your shoulders are always hunched. Like you're trying to disappear."
Heat rose to my cheeks. Was it that obvious? "Maybe I… just don't like being noticed."
He gave me a long look before turning back to the path. "People notice you anyway. You can't hide."
I bit my lip, unsure what to say.
We found a bench near a small pond, the water reflecting the sunlight in ripples. He sat down first, legs spread carelessly, taking up space like it was his by default. I sat at the very edge, leaving a gap between us.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. My heart pounded so loud it felt like the whole park could hear it. Finally, I blurted, "W-What do you like?"
His head turned, one eyebrow raised. "What?"
"I mean…" My fingers twisted in my lap. "Like… your favorite things. Food, maybe. Or… stuff you like doing."
He smirked slightly, as if amused. "Why do you want to know?"
I swallowed hard. "I just… I just thought… if we're… um… classmates, we should know each other better."
For a second, he didn't answer, just stared at me. My cheeks burned under his gaze. Then he shrugged. "I like spicy food. Anything with fire in it and I love sweets."
I blinked. "Fire?"
"Yeah. Something that burns." His smirk widened. "Why? You can't handle spice?"
"I-I can!" I stammered, though my voice cracked halfway. "Well… maybe… not too much…"
He chuckled, a low sound that made my chest tighten strangely. "Thought so."
I turned away, flustered. My reflection in the pond showed how red my face was. Great. He probably thought I was ridiculous.
"What about you?" he asked suddenly.
I froze. "Me?"
"Yeah. What do you like?" His gaze stayed steady on me, waiting.
I lowered my eyes. No one ever asked me that. My likes, my wants—they never mattered at home. "I… I like books," I said finally. "Stories, I mean. They make me feel like… like I can be someone else, just for a while. Sometimes I like acting as well."
He hummed, almost thoughtful. "Figures. You've got that dreamy look in your eyes sometimes."
I whipped my head up. "I-I do not!"
"You do," he said, leaning back, stretching his arms along the bench. "Makes you look… softer."
Softer. The word made my chest flutter and ache at the same time. I turned away quickly, hiding my face with my hands. "Y-You're teasing me."
"Maybe," he said, voice amused.
Silence stretched between us again, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. The breeze carried the scent of flowers, children's laughter rang in the distance, and for once… I didn't feel completely crushed by the weight of the world.
Being here with him—it was dangerous, confusing, and terrifying… but I didn't want it to end.
The sun was sinking lower, and the air smelled faintly of grass and asphalt warmed by the day. The park behind us was still echoing with children's laughter and the squeak of swings, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat—slower, calmer than it had been in a long time.
It was strange. Usually, walking anywhere with someone else felt like being dragged along with weights on my ankles. But now… now I almost wanted the path to stretch on forever.
We walked in silence for a while, the rhythm of our steps falling into sync. Dae-hyun kept his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed like he didn't have a single worry. Beside him, I felt small, clumsy, but somehow—safe.
"You're quiet again," he said after a minute, glancing at me with that unreadable expression.
I clutched the strap of my bag tighter. "I'm… just thinking."
"About what?"
I bit my lip. Should I say it? That I was thinking about how nice it felt when he asked me what my favorite color was earlier, or how he didn't laugh when I admitted I liked drawing even though I was terrible at it? That for once, my answers didn't feel stupid?
I lowered my gaze. "About how today didn't feel like the usual."
His brows knit together slightly. "What's the 'usual' for you?"
The words rose like bile: mockery at school, silence at home, punishment for breathing too loudly. But I swallowed them down, forcing my voice steady. "Nothing worth talking about."
He studied me for a moment, then looked away, kicking at a pebble on the ground. "You've got that faraway look again. Stop overthinking."
I blinked. "How do you know when I'm overthinking?"
"Because your face gets all stiff, like you're solving a math problem no one cares about." His tone was deadpan, but there was the faintest curve to his lips.
The laugh that slipped out of me was small, shaky, but real. I clapped a hand over my mouth, startled. "I—I didn't mean to…"
His smirk widened just slightly. "Better. You should laugh more."
Warmth prickled at my cheeks. It had been so long since anyone said something like that to me—like my laugh wasn't annoying or out of place.
We kept walking until he suddenly veered toward a convenience store.
"W-wait, what are you—?"
"Come on," he cut in, not slowing down.
Confused, I followed him inside. The bright lights buzzed overhead, and the smell of instant noodles filled the air. He went straight to the snack aisle and grabbed a bag of strawberry candies, tossing it lightly into my hands.
"You like sweet stuff, right?"
I froze. My chest tightened painfully. He remembered. Out of everything I'd said today, he'd actually remembered that tiny detail.
"I… y-yeah." My voice wavered.
"Then take it. Don't say I never gave you anything."
He walked toward the counter before I could even thank him. I stared at the bag, heart pounding. No one ever bought me things—not because they wanted to, not just because they remembered something about me.
At the counter, he paid without hesitation. The cashier handed me the bag like it was mine all along. I bowed slightly in thanks, clutching it like it was something precious.
Outside again, I slipped one into my mouth. The strawberry sweetness melted across my tongue, dizzying in its simplicity.
"This is nice," I murmured, almost too softly for him to hear.
"What is?"
"This… walking, talking, candy." I swallowed hard. "Feels… safe."
For a moment, his expression shifted. Softer than I'd ever seen. His voice dropped lower when he spoke.
"You should feel safe more often."
The words cut deeper than any insult ever had. Safe wasn't a word I was allowed to feel. Not at home. Not anywhere. I lowered my head, suddenly wishing I could crawl into the earth before the tears stinging my eyes betrayed me.
We turned a corner, and my chest tightened. My house loomed at the end of the street, all polished gates and cold glass windows. The sight of it made my stomach twist. The silhouette moving behind the curtains—it was him. My father.
My steps faltered.
Dae-hyun noticed instantly. "That's your house?"
"Yes." My voice was thin, brittle. I clutched the candy bag like a shield. "I can… go the rest of the way alone. You don't need to—"
He narrowed his eyes. "Why? You look like you're walking into a death sentence."
"N-no, it's fine." I forced a laugh that sounded fake even to my own ears. "Really, thank you for today. I'll see you tomorrow—"
But he didn't move. His gaze stayed locked on me, sharp and searching.
"You're scared."
"I'm not!" The denial came out too fast, too desperate.
He tilted his head. "You're shaking."
I glanced down. My hands trembled violently, the candy bag crinkling loud in the quiet street. Panic surged in my chest. "Please, Dae-hyun. Just go. Don't—don't make this worse."
Something flickered across his face then—something firm, unyielding. He stepped past me, striding toward the house.
"W-wait! Where are you going?"
"Relax. I'm just knocking."
My heart stopped. "No! Dae-hyun, don't—please—"
I grabbed at his sleeve, but he gently shook me off, not unkindly but with a finality that made my breath catch.
Before I could say another word, his knuckles rapped against the door. The hollow thud echoed through my chest louder than any scream.
The door creaked open.
And the shadow standing there made my blood run cold.
The door swung open with a heavy creak, and the familiar smell of polished wood and faint cologne seeped out. My father stood framed in the doorway, tall and sharp, his presence like a blade against my skin. His eyes, cold and narrow, dropped first to me, then to Dae-hyun standing solidly beside me.
"What," he said, voice low and clipped, "is this?"
My throat closed. I bowed immediately, words tumbling out in a stammer. "F-father, this is just—just a classmate. We… We had a project. He walked me home."
Dae-hyun didn't bow. He didn't even shift. His eyes locked onto my father's like steel, unflinching.
My father's gaze flicked between us. The air grew heavy, pressing against my chest until I could hardly breathe. Then his lip curled, just slightly. "A classmate. Without permission."
I swallowed hard. "I—I'm sorry. It won't happen again—"
"Inside." His voice snapped like a whip.
My knees almost buckled as I stepped over the threshold. Dae-hyun followed without hesitation, like he had any right to. Panic surged inside me. I reached back, trying to stop him, my fingers brushing his sleeve.
"Dae-hyun, please," I whispered, barely audible. "Just go."
He didn't.
The door slammed shut behind us with a final, echoing thud.
In the living room, my mother was seated on the sofa, perfectly poised with a cup of tea. Her eyes flicked up, narrowing when she saw me, then widening slightly at the sight of Dae-hyun. She set her cup down with an icy clink.
"Who is this?" she asked, her tone deceptively smooth.
"A classmate," my father repeated flatly, standing behind me like a shadow I couldn't escape. His hand clamped down on my shoulder, heavy and punishing. "And one who thinks our home is open to intruders."
"I—" My voice broke. I wanted to explain, to apologize, but the words tangled in my throat. "We—we were just—"
"Be quiet."
The command froze me.
But Dae-hyun spoke instead, his tone level but carrying weight. "I only walked him home. I didn't mean to intrude."
The room went silent. My father's grip tightened on my shoulder, fingers digging into my skin. "You," he said, voice sharp. "You don't speak in my house."
Dae-hyun's jaw flexed, but he didn't back down. He simply looked at me, his gaze steady, almost protective. My stomach twisted. Why wasn't he leaving? Didn't he know this would only make things worse?
My mother's voice cut through, cool and precise. "Woo-jin. You brought someone here without our permission. Do you understand how shameful that is?"
I shook my head desperately. "I—I didn't mean—he just—"
A slap cracked through the air, sharp and sudden. My head snapped to the side, heat blooming across my cheek.
The silence afterward roared in my ears.
My breath hitched. My eyes burned, but I didn't cry. Not here. Not in front of Dae-hyun.
"Pathetic," my father muttered, releasing my shoulder only to push me forward. I stumbled, catching myself on the edge of the sofa. "You think you can act freely? Bring strangers here? Make us look like fools?"
"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I'm sorry, it won't—"
Another strike landed, harder this time across my arm. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.
"Stop," Dae-hyun's voice cut in suddenly, sharp and commanding.
My father froze mid-motion, his hand still raised. Slowly, he turned toward Dae-hyun, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "What did you say?"
"I said stop." Dae-hyun stepped forward, his presence suddenly larger, heavier. "He's your son. You don't get to treat him like this."
My heart lurched into my throat. "Dae-hyun—please—"
My father laughed, low and humorless. "And who are you to lecture me in my house? Some schoolboy?"
Dae-hyun didn't flinch. "Someone who sees what you're doing. Someone who won't just stand by. I'll call the police."
The air crackled with tension, my mother watching with thinly veiled disdain, my father's anger simmering into something volatile.
"Woo-jin," my father barked. "Get this boy out of my sight."
I stumbled to my feet, my entire body trembling. My hands reached for Dae-hyun's sleeve again, tugging hard this time. "Please," I whispered frantically. "Please just go. You'll make it worse."
Dae-hyun looked down at me, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he finally stepped back. His voice was low, meant only for me.
"I'll go," he said. "But remember—this is child absue. Call the police."
The words pierced through me, leaving me raw and unsteady.
My father yanked me back as Dae-hyun turned toward the door. "And don't ever come back here," he snapped after him.
The door closed behind Dae-hyun with a hollow finality. The silence he left behind was suffocating.
My father's hand came down hard on my back, sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain shot through me, but worse than that was the shame. The humiliation of Dae-hyun seeing even a glimpse of what life inside this house was like.
"Worthless," my father spat, his footsteps retreating toward his study. "Don't ever embarrass us like that again."
My mother picked up her teacup again, sipping delicately as though nothing had happened. Her eyes didn't meet mine.
I curled in on myself on the cold floor, clutching the bag of strawberry candies so tightly the plastic dug into my skin. My chest ached, my cheek stung, and my heart… my heart twisted painfully with one thought.
He saw.
Dae-hyun saw.
And I didn't know if that was a blessing—or a curse.
My cheek throbbed with every beat of my heart, my back stung where my father's hand had struck, and the weight of silence pressed down harder than any blow. The faint clink of my mother's teacup was the only sound.
I didn't dare move until I heard my father's study door shut with a slam. Only then did I drag myself upright, clutching the candy bag so tightly the wrapper crinkled. My chest burned with shame.
Dae-hyun saw.
The thought was poison, crawling under my skin. He saw me—pathetic, worthless, weak. Exactly what my father said I was.
I forced myself up, legs trembling, and stumbled toward my room. I closed the door softly, like making noise might summon them again. My hands shook as I unwrapped one of the strawberry candies and shoved it into my mouth. The sweetness burned against my tongue, sharp and cloying.
It didn't help. Nothing could.
I sank onto my bed, curling into myself. Tears blurred my vision, but I pressed my face into the pillow, swallowing them back. I couldn't cry, not when I already looked so weak.
Still… the memory replayed itself.
Dae-hyun standing there, unflinching. His voice cutting through the venom in my father's tone. His hand steady when mine trembled.
"Call the police."
The words echoed louder than the slap. Louder than my father's spit word—worthless.
My chest tightened painfully. Why? Why would he say that? Didn't he see? Didn't he realize it was true? That I was nothing but a burden, a shameful omega born into the wrong family?
I buried my face deeper, trembling.
I must have stayed like that for hours, too lost in the storm to notice the faint sound at first. A knock. Gentle. Careful. On my window.
My breath caught.
I turned, heart pounding, and there he was. Dae-hyun. Standing in the dim light of the garden, his face faintly illuminated by the streetlamp.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. That the image was just my desperate, broken heart making up something impossible.
But then he lifted his hand again and knocked softly against the glass.
"Woo-jin," his voice was muffled but steady.
I scrambled to the window, fumbling with the latch. When it creaked open, the cool night air rushed in. My voice came out shaky, too small. "Why… why are you here?"
He didn't climb in. He didn't push. He just stood there, looking up at me with those unshakable eyes.
"Because I couldn't leave you like that," he said simply. "Not after seeing…" He stopped, jaw tightening, as if the words themselves were too much. "Not after seeing what they did to you."
Shame stabbed through me, hot and sharp. "You shouldn't have seen it," I whispered, clutching the window frame like it could hold me together. "Now you know. I'm—" My voice cracked. "I'm pathetic. Just like they say."
His expression shifted, hard and fierce, the kind of look that burned straight into me. "Don't ever say that again."
I flinched. My throat worked, but no words came.
"You're not pathetic," he said, each word deliberate, heavy with meaning. "You're surviving. That's not a weakness, Woo-jin. That's strength."
The tears I had been holding back broke free, rolling hot down my cheeks. I turned my face away, ashamed for him to see me like this. "Why… why are you doing this?"
"Because someone has to," he answered quietly. "And I want to."
My heart stuttered painfully.
I gripped the window frame tighter, afraid that if I let go, I'd fall apart completely. "They'll hurt me more if they know you're here."
"Then I'll be careful," he said. His voice softened, but the steel in it didn't fade. "But I'm not leaving you alone. Not anymore."
The words wrapped around me, terrifying and comforting all at once. No one had ever said something like that to me before. Not my parents. Not anyone.
"Dae-hyun…" I whispered, my voice breaking.
He took a step closer, close enough that I could see the faint warmth in his eyes despite the shadows. "One day," he said, "you'll believe me. That you're worth more than what they say. Until then, I'll remind you as many times as it takes."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. My chest ached, my tears blurred everything, and yet… something small and fragile flickered inside me.
For the first time in so long, I didn't feel completely alone.
"Now sleep," he said gently. "I'll be here."
I wanted to ask what he meant. How long. Why. But the words wouldn't form. All I could do was press my forehead against the cool glass, eyes squeezed shut as the tears kept falling.
"Okay," I whispered.
He stayed.
I let my face rest on his shoulders.