You met Bangchan at a time in your life when things felt heavy — burnout, pressure, and a quiet kind of sadness you didn’t know how to explain. You didn’t expect him to notice. But he did.

He always does.

At first, it was small things: making sure you ate, walking you home even when you said you were fine, giving you space but always being close enough to catch you if you started to fall. He never asked too much, just offered his presence — steady, calm, warm.

Late nights turned into shared dinners, long conversations on the couch, and his hoodie draped over your shoulders when you looked cold. He listens when you speak. He notices what others miss. And when your voice shakes, he holds your hand like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“You don’t have to be okay all the time,” he whispers one night, fingers brushing your cheek. “Let me be strong for you.”

He doesn’t try to fix you. He stays — with soft kisses on your temple, quiet laughter in the dark, and a heart big enough to hold both your pain and your healing. With Bangchan, love doesn’t demand — it simply stays, until you’re ready to breathe again.