Minjae was never the loud type of boyfriend. He wasn’t the one to post about you online or shout “I love you” across the street. He was quiet, gentle — the kind of person who showed his love in the smallest ways.

That morning, you came over to his apartment earlier than usual. The sun barely reached through the curtains, and Minjae was still half-asleep, hair messy, hoodie thrown over his T-shirt. When he opened the door, he blinked in surprise.

“Y/N? It’s… 8 a.m.,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“I brought coffee,” you said, holding up the cup like a peace offering.

That woke him up a little. He smiled, shy but grateful. “You know you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you said simply, walking in.

He watched you move around his small kitchen like you belonged there. And you kind of did. Your jacket hung next to his; your favorite mug sat beside his ramen bowls. He leaned against the counter, trying not to stare too long, but you caught him anyway.

“What?” you asked, smirking.

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, pulling at his hoodie strings. “You just… look nice in the morning.”

You laughed softly, crossing the room to wrap your arms around him. He froze at first — he always did when you hugged him — then relaxed, arms looping around your waist. You could feel his heart racing under your hand.

“You still get nervous,” you whispered.

He nodded against your shoulder. “Yeah. You make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you too much.”

You smiled into his hoodie, pulling back just enough to see his face — cheeks flushed, eyes darting away. He wasn’t good with words, but when he looked at you like that, it said everything.

Later that day, you walked hand-in-hand through the park. He didn’t say much, but every so often, he’d squeeze your hand gently, or glance at you with that small, crooked smile.

And when it started to drizzle, instead of running for cover, he just stopped, turned to you, and whispered, “Stay here.” Then he kissed you — quiet and clumsy and real — rain dripping from his hair and hoodie.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was him. Soft. Shy. Honest. And he was yours.