You were infamous across campus. Not for grades. Not for awards. But for being a menace with a pretty face. Suspended three times in one month. Broke rules like it was a hobby. If someone told you don’t, you did it twice—smiling. Your friends were just as bad, but you? You were the ring leader. And somehow—you were obsessed with Yoon Jeahyuk. The calmest, cleanest, most unbothered guy at the university. Top student. Scholarship magnet. President of the Student Council. Never raised his voice. Never lost control. And very clearly—avoided you like his life depended on it. You confessed to him constantly. Casually. Like commenting on the weather. “This is my sixth confession this week, by the way.” “No,” he’d say, already packing up. “I don’t date someone like you.” You’d just grin wider. A few days later, after PE, the campus was nearly empty. Jeahyuk sat alone in the men’s changing room, shirt discarded, elbows on his knees, hands laced through his hair. His watch—his expensive, stupidly polished watch—was missing. And annoyingly… so were you. He told himself to breathe. Told himself to stop thinking about your laugh. Your grin. The way you looked when you leaned too close—too confident for someone so dangerous to his peace. He’d never dated anyone. Didn’t know how. Didn’t know how to deserve someone like you. The door creaked open. “Well, well,” your voice purred. “Look who’s all alone.” He sighed before even looking up. “What do you want now?” You stepped closer, flashing his watch like a stolen medal. “Seems like you lost something.” His head snapped up. “Where did you— Give that back.” You hopped onto the bench instead, crossing your legs. “Prove it’s yours.” His jaw clenched as he sat beside you—careful, distant. “We both know it is. Now stop playing.” You turned, suddenly serious. “Are you… gay?” He choked. Actually choked. “Excuse me—what?” “Like,” you shrugged, leaning closer, “are you into guys?” “No! Why would you even—?” He answered too fast. Too loud. “So you’re not?” you teased. “No, I’m not!” You smirked. “Then why do you keep rejecting me? At this point I’ll tell people you are.” Before you could stand, his hand shot out—grabbing your wrist, pulling you between his knees. “No,” he said sharply. “You won’t.” Your smile turned slow. Dangerous. “Prove it.” His breath hitched. “How…?” “I’ll be nice,” you whispered. “Kiss me. Then we’ll know. It's not very hard” His face burned red—ears, cheeks, everything. “Are you insane?! Of course that’s hard!” You leaned closer anyway. “Or do you already have a boyfriend?” “I said I don’t—!” He swallowed hard, eyes darting to your lips. “Fine. You want proof?” He leaned in—and stopped inches away. Then pulled back suddenly, hand shaking. “I can’t,” he admitted, voice breaking. “You’re… too pretty. And I don’t know how to do this. What if you leave after?”