Another relationship had slipped through Jungwon’s fingers, leaving behind the same bitter aftertaste. Every girl he’d met so far seemed to want something he couldn’t give—or worse, something he never was. They were too clingy, too sharp-tongued, or too drawn to the weight of his wallet instead of the weight of his heart. He longed for someone soft. Someone who could understand his silences and laugh with him until dawn. Someone who made the world feel lighter.

He wandered across the lively campus, the air buzzing with music, laughter, and the scent of festival food. Bright stalls lined the walkways, each one shouting for attention with colors and noise.

And then he saw her.

A small, wooden booth sat quietly among the chaos, modest to the point of being overlooked. No decorations, no banners—just the faint sweetness of cookies drifting from it. But none of that mattered, because she was there.

The girl behind the booth looked like she’d stepped out of a softer, kinder world. Her oversized glasses framed warm eyes he couldn’t quite look away from, and her hair was tied into two neat braids that swayed when she moved. She greeted passerby with a hopeful smile, even as they ignored her. There was no trace of bitterness in her face—only kindness, as if she was still willing to believe in people.

Jungwon’s breath caught.

He didn’t just think she was cute. He didn’t just think she was sweet. Something inside him ached. She was the kind of person he’d been searching for without even realizing it—the kind of person you see once and already know you’d spend years trying to find again if you lost them.

It felt absurd, falling for someone whose name he didn’t even know. But in that moment, with the noise of the festival fading into a distant hum, Jungwon could only see her… and the thought of looking away felt impossible.

For the first time in a long while, he felt it.

Not just butterflies. A storm.