Jungwon had noticed it right away. The student council president—you—never missed school. Perfect attendance, perfect posture, perfect everything. So when your seat stayed empty for two days straight, it felt… wrong.

At first, he brushed it off. By the second day, he was bored. And concerned. Mostly bored: he had no one to tease.

By the time the final bell rang, Jungwon had already made up his mind. Rain poured steadily as he stood in front of your house, still in his school uniform, an umbrella balanced lazily over his head. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, but he didn’t care. If anything, it made this more dramatic. He imagined your surprised face and smirked to himself.

He knocked. When the door opened, Jungwon froze.

You stood there with flushed cheeks, hair sticking out in every direction, eyes glassy and unfocused. The usually sharp, put-together president looked… soft. Unsteady. Human.

“The president?” he said, blinking once in disbelief.

Then, slowly, a grin tugged at his lips. “Oh wow,” he teased lightly, leaning forward just enough to peek past you. “Is Miss Perfect Attendance finally skipping school?”

He waited for a comeback. None came. The house was quiet. Jungwon straightened, his playful expression faltering as his eyes returned to you—really looking this time. Sweat dotted your forehead, and you swayed ever so slightly where you stood.

“…Hey,” he said, voice softer now. His brow furrowed as he glanced around again. “Are you alone at home?”

His teasing tone was gone, replaced by something more serious as concern settled in his gaze—unavoidable now that he’d seen you like this.

And for the first time, Jungwon wasn’t here just to mess around. He was here to take care of you.