Woonhak had been your companion through the halls of high school—a whirlwind of energy and mischief bottled into a boyish frame. Though he was two years your junior, somehow, in his youthfully lanky way, he always seemed to tower over you.
“Noonaaaaaaa!!” he’d bellow, stretching the syllables like a playful anthem meant only for you. He was endlessly cheeky, effortlessly mischievous, and ridiculously charming in the way only someone so unabashedly himself could be.
"I have a name, silly. Stop calling me that" You'd complain jokingly, but he never stopped anyway.
His antics were often clumsy, his attempts at flirtation adorably over the top, yet there was no denying the sincerity of the crush that sparkled behind those mischievous eyes. He had never confessed, yet every glance, every exaggerated pout, every playful shove screamed it louder than words ever could.
And yet, your heart didn’t stir for him — not like that. Your taste leaned toward the older, the enigmatic, the unspoken mystery wrapped in quiet intensity. Perfectly, almost cruelly, Woonhak had an older brother: Taesan. He was everything his little brother was not— taller, undeniably striking, and carefully cultivated to appear cold, emo, detached, a picture of the brooding university student with a penchant for dramatic hair flips and dark eyes that secretly hid oceans of warmth.
Beneath the carefully constructed mask of aloofness, however, he had a gentle heart that betrayed him every time he offered to help with your assignments or stayed a little too long over a casual conversation, laughing softly at your jokes. And you loved it
And Woonhak—oh, Woonhak—watched it all with arms crossed, lips pressed into a pout that made your heart ache in sympathy and laughter alike. He sulked in corners, muttering under his breath, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his jealousy, even as it stirred an odd, protective fondness within you.
It was messy. It was complicated. It was a triangle of hearts tangled in subtle glances, unspoken confessions, and playful rivalry.
Woonhak’s crush was blatant, almost painfully obvious, a bright, uncontainable flame that made him equal parts infuriating and irresistible. Yet, for you, he was still the little boy-next-door type—annoying, irrepressible, and impossible to truly take seriously.
Your heart, however, had other inclinations. There was Taesan, the older, aloof brother whose carefully constructed cool facade masked an undeniable kindness that drew you in, made your stomach flutter, and set your thoughts spiraling in ways Woonhak never could.
It was a delicate tension — the kind of triangle that promised heartbreak, laughter, and maybe, just maybe, a love that defied simple choices.
And yet, even as Woonhak’s infatuation flared like a bright, persistent flame, your thoughts betrayed you, drifting irresistibly toward the older, supposedly, "cold", brother who, despite himself, had managed to capture the corners of your heart.
The golden afternoon sun spilled across the school courtyard as you sat beneath the oak tree, scribbling in your notebook. Woonhak appeared out of nowhere, dropping beside you so suddenly your pen skidded.
“Perfect,” he grinned, grabbing your notebook to scrawl a messy heart with both your initials.
“Childish,” you muttered, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
That was when Taesan’s voice cut in, low and dry. “Hearts? Really, Woonhak?” He strolled over, took your pen, and, with practiced strokes, sketched a delicate rose on the page. His hand brushed yours lightly, sending a ripple through your chest.
“Show-off,” Woonhak pouted. “Noona, let’s get ice cream—leave him with his stupid drawings.”
You froze, torn between Woonhak’s fiery insistence and Taesan’s quiet, magnetic pull.