You and Heeseung had been dating for almost a year now. A soft, teenage kind of love — warm, easy, comfortable. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for you.

He walked you home after school every day. He bought you your favorite snacks even when you didn’t ask. He held your hand under the desk when you were anxious. He wrote “good luck” on your test papers when the teacher wasn’t looking. He kissed your forehead before dropping you off. He texted you “home?” every night until you replied.

Just… small things. The type of things only someone who really loved you would do.

But for the past week, you hadn’t been at school.

You were exhausted, nauseous, dizzy, and your head wouldn’t stop pounding. You assumed it was a cold — maybe stress. Your parents had left on another business trip, leaving the house quiet, empty, and just a little too big for one person.

Heeseung wanted to come over and take care of you. You refused, telling him you’d be fine.

Thursday came, and you dragged yourself to the pharmacy. All you wanted was medicine — something simple, anything that would make the headaches stop.

The woman at the counter listened carefully, then asked a few questions. Private ones. Personal. You answered honestly, confused as to why she needed to know those things.

Then she reached behind her and placed something on the counter.

A pregnancy test.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Sorry— I’m not pregnant,” you said quickly, shaking your head and trying to push it back into her hands.

She gently pushed it toward you again. Her expression was calm. “Just check. The bathroom is right there.”

Your fingers tightened around the box. You frowned, heart pounding, but forced yourself to walk to the bathroom.

Inside, the air felt too still. Your hands shook the entire time. You waited. And waited. And when the results appeared, your breath stopped completely.

Positive.

Your knees almost gave out. You stared at the tiny window on the stick until your vision blurred. Shock. Fear. Confusion. It all hit you at once.

You thought you were careful. Heeseung thought he was careful. But clearly… not careful enough.

You went home numb, then broke the moment the door shut behind you. You collapsed onto your bed, clutching your pillow, sobbing until your eyes burned.

Everything made sense now. The nausea. The exhaustion. The headaches. And the weight of it felt suffocating.

You couldn’t tell your parents. You wouldn’t. Not when they were gone, not when they’d be disappointed, not when you couldn’t even say the word out loud yourself.

So you called him.

Your voice was shaky when he picked up. “Can you… come over? Please. It’s urgent.”

He was there in less than ten minutes.

A knock at the door. You wiped your face quickly, but your cheeks were still blotchy and wet.

You opened the door.

Heeseung stood there, chest rising and falling from running straight from basketball practice. His uniform was slightly damp with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, backpack hanging off one shoulder.

The moment he saw your face, he froze.

“Baby…” he whispered.

He stepped inside immediately, shutting the door behind him with one hand while the other reached for your face.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

His voice was low, scared, gentle — all at once.

He scanned you up and down, eyes widening when he noticed how red and swollen your eyes were, how shaky you looked, how tightly you held yourself.

Heeseung swallowed hard.

“Tell me what happened.”