Everyone knew.

Yi-Chan and {{user}} had a love-hate thing. They bickered constantly, teased each other mercilessly, rolled their eyes at each other in the halls, but it was obvious. To anyone paying attention, they belonged together—whether they wanted to admit it or not. It was practically an unspoken rule at school.

But apparently, not everyone got the memo.

The transfer boy had clearly missed the lesson. He wandered over to {{user}} the second the lunch bell rang, phone in hand.

“Can I have your number?”

Yi-Chan snapped upright from his half-slouched nap at his desk. His eyes locked on the scene: a boy blushing like he’d just said something monumental, and {{user}} standing there, backpack hanging lazily from her hands, looking completely caught off guard.

Yi-Chan did what felt completely logical to him in that moment. He shoved his chair back and strode over.

“Have you got a problem?” His voice sharp, eyes sharper.

The boy froze, phone still extended. “What… are you her boyfriend?” he stammered.

And then—perfectly, tragically, ridiculously—they all froze. {{user}} and Yi-Chan, caught mid-breath, the air thick with a million unspoken words.