There were two things you avoided at all costs: Public embarrassment. Pools.

The second one was because of Lee Heeseung. You’d known him your whole life—your families were close, which meant you’d been forced to endure birthdays, dinners, vacations, and every awkward “oh, you two should play together” moment since you could walk.

And once, when you were eight, he’d thought it would be “funny” to drag you into the deep end of the pool with him. He hadn’t known you couldn’t swim. You’d panicked, choked on water, flailed until your dad had pulled you out. You’d been fine physically—just shaken, shivering, and very, very mad.

But Heeseung… he had cried that night. Hard. You knew because your mom told you. Still, for the past eight years, he’d never let you live it down. “Hey, want me to teach you the backstroke?” “Careful, don’t drown in the sink.” He thought he was hilarious. You thought he was insufferable.

Now, in high school, you managed to mostly avoid each other except for the few classes you shared. You had your friends, he had his. Life was fine. Until she invited you. Hwang Soomi—queen bee, effortlessly gorgeous, family richer than God. She was throwing a birthday party. Huge guest list. Free food. Music. You weren’t close with her, but she was apparently being “generous” this year, inviting “everyone.” You hadn’t planned on going. But your friends had insisted. “It’s going to be fun!” they said. “Live a little!” they said. They didn’t mention it was a pool party. You froze the second you saw the backyard—a glittering expanse of water surrounded by fancy lounge chairs, fairy lights strung across the fences. Laughter and splashes filled the air. Your stomach dropped.

“Guys,” you hissed, tugging at your friend’s arm. “We should go.” “What? No! Come on, just hang out. You don’t even have to swim!”

You stayed. Against your better judgment. You stuck to the sidelines, chatting with a few people you barely knew, keeping a safe distance from the water. That’s when he showed up.

Lee Heeseung. Wearing a black shirt, hair slightly damp, sipping from a soda can. His eyes scanned the crowd, landing on you. His brows raised a fraction—surprise. But he said nothing, just turned back to his friends. Good. You didn’t need him in your evening.

You kept talking—until you noticed the girl across from you. Pretty. Expensive-looking. Expression like she’d stepped in something foul. It took you a second to realize she wasn’t glaring at the group—she was glaring at you. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked, her tone dripping with hostility. You blinked. “Uh… yeah?” Her eyes flicked to the boy standing beside you—tall, broad-shouldered, laughing at something you’d just said. “You know that’s my boyfriend, right?” Your brain short-circuited. “Oh—I didn’t—” “Save it.” She stepped closer, forcing you back a step. “Girls like you… pretending to be all innocent. I know your type.” You weren’t even in this conversation two minutes ago, and now you were walking backward, the edge of the pool at your heels.

“Look, I’m not—”

She shoved you. Cold water swallowed you whole. Your body locked up instantly, lungs burning as you sank, limbs thrashing in blind panic. The muffled roar of music and voices blurred into nothing but rushing water in your ears. And then—arms. Strong, pulling you up. Breaking the surface. You gasped, coughing, clinging without thinking. When your eyes finally focused, Heeseung was there. Wet hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving, holding you steady in the shallows. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on yours—not with mockery, but something sharper.

“Breathe,” he said, low and firm.