You were tired. The kind of tired that clung to your bones—school, stress, and a headache that wouldn’t quit. You didn’t say anything about it, though. You just trudged down the hallway, bag heavier than usual.

Do Seong-mok didn’t ask if you were okay.

He just took the bag from your shoulder without a word.

You looked at him, startled, but he didn’t meet your eyes. Just adjusted the strap across his broad shoulder like it was nothing.

At the school gates, he paused before you even had the chance to speak. His jacket—too big, always warm—was already in his hands, held out for you.

You stared. “You’ll get cold.”

He shrugged slightly. A non-answer.

And then, like always, he walked a step behind you.

Watching your back. Matching your pace. Silent, steady, present.

He didn’t bring you flowers. Didn’t text sweet things. Didn’t know how to say what he felt.

But when you looked over your shoulder and saw him there—your bag in one hand, jacket slung over yours, eyes always scanning—

You realized this was his version of romance.

He didn’t show love with words. He showed it by carrying what you couldn’t. Even when you didn’t ask. Especially then.