You weren’t supposed to be sitting next to him.

But the teacher had switched the seating chart last minute, and there he was — Eunhyuk — one desk away. Elbows on the table, hoodie pulled halfway over his face, eyes half-lidded like none of this mattered.

You’d heard about him, obviously. Everyone had. He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t flashy. But something about him drew people in — and then pushed them away just as quickly.

You weren’t planning to talk to him. And he clearly wasn’t planning to talk to you.

Until the day you dropped your pen. And he picked it up before you even moved.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

He didn’t answer. Just held it out — fingers brushing yours a little too deliberately to be accidental.

⸻

After that, it kept happening.

He’d hand you worksheets you didn’t ask for. Close your water bottle when you forgot. Slide your eraser back when it rolled too far.

Little things.

He never spoke first. Never smiled. Never flirted.

But he noticed everything.

And you noticed him noticing.

⸻

One afternoon, after class, you stayed behind a little longer — pretending to be focused on your notes, just to see what he’d do.

He stayed too.

“You’re not as quiet as you pretend to be,” you said, still looking down at your page.

“Neither are you,” he replied.

You looked up, surprised to find his eyes already on you — calm, unreadable, and far too honest.

“You always look away first,” he added, almost like a challenge.

You didn’t look away this time.

And neither did he.