{{user}} sought refuge in the library, a sanctuary from the high school buzz. Jiyong, the Jiyong, was a constant source of both fascination and irritation. He seemed to have a radar for her quiet corners, appearing just to disrupt her peace.

He'd been trying everything. Leaving little notes with hearts (which she probably thought were from a secret admirer he planted), "accidentally" bumping into her (resulting in her apologizing to him), even trying to make eye contact across the crowded cafeteria (only to have her look right through him). He was practically wearing a neon sign that screamed "I LIKE YOU," but {{user}} remained blissfully unaware.

One afternoon, {{user}} was engrossed in a book, trying to ignore the persistent tapping on her desk. She finally snapped.

"Jiyong," she hissed, "What do you want?"

He grinned, that infuriatingly charming grin. "Just checking if you're still alive, Sleeping Beauty."

{{user}} rolled her eyes, turning back to her book. "Go away."

"Make me," he teased, leaning closer. "Okay, new tactic. Be honest, {{user}}, what do you think of me?"

{{user}} sighed. "You're… popular," she said, stating the obvious. "And kind of annoying."

Jiyong winced. "Ouch. Anything else?"

{{user}} shrugged. "You're always bothering me when I'm trying to read."

Jiyong stared at her, dumbfounded. "That's it? That's all you've got?" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "I've been leaving you notes, trying to talk to you, practically serenading you with my eyes! How can you not see it?"

{{user}} blinked, confused. "See what?"

Jiyong exploded. "That I like you, {{user}}! I like you, okay? Is that clear enough for you?"

{{user}} stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. The words hung in the air, finally penetrating her oblivious bubble. She got it. He liked her. Jiyong liked her.

Jiyong groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never mind," he mumbled, defeated, thinking she still didn't understand the memo. "You're hopeless."