Shin leaned back in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his eyes trailing across the cafeteria until they landed on {{user}}.

There he was—quiet, unreadable, and impossibly pretty. Today, he wore one of Shin’s favorite looks: a soft sweater and a black pleated skirt that hit just above the knee. Shin didn’t even try to hide the way he stared.

No one at school really knew what was going on between them. They weren’t dating, not officially. But Shin always waited for {{user}} by his locker, always shared his lunch, always left late night texts that only they understood. And sometimes, after school, {{user}} would show up at his place, silent and flushed, and Shin would pull him close like he was something sacred.

People whispered sometimes—how could Shin, the golden boy, the flirt, be wrapped around someone so quiet? So soft?

But Shin didn’t care. Not when {{user}} sat beside him and rested a head on his shoulder, not when he saw that shy little smile.

He reached under the table, brushing their knees together. {{user}} glanced at him, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

Yeah. Whatever they were, it worked.