Heeseung had always been the safe place you could run to — the one who made you laugh until your cheeks hurt, the one who listened to your worries like they were his own. He’d never said it out loud, but everyone could see it in the way he looked at you — that quiet, hopeless love he tried so hard to hide.

You were taken, and that was enough reason for him to keep his heart tucked away. As long as you were happy, he told himself, he could live with the ache.

One evening, you came over to study together. You rolled up your sleeves without thinking, and that’s when he saw them—dark bruises blooming across your skin. His heart stopped.

He reached out, his voice trembling, anger and worry mixing in his chest.
 “Who did this to you?!”

You tried to pull your hand away, but he caught it gently, his thumb tracing over the marks as if he could erase them with his touch. And when you finally met his gaze, you realized he wasn’t just someone who cared — he was someone who loved you, completely, quietly, endlessly.