The hallway was loud with chatter — groups of students crowding around the bulletin boards plastered with fresh schedules and flyers. Sunlight cut through the glass panels above, glinting off silver lockers and highlighting bits of dust in the air. Amid the noise, Seunghyun stood with a few girls from his class, laughing easily at something one of them said. His hand rested lazily in his pocket, the other holding his phone.

But when his eyes drifted past them, catching sight of you standing alone near the class listings — fingers tracing down the sheet as you tried to find your name — his easy smile shifted. Just a little. His laughter faded under his breath.

He didn’t even say anything to the girls. Just offered a quick, “Hey, one sec,” and stepped away, leaving them whispering among themselves as he crossed the distance to you.

You didn’t notice him at first. He came up quietly, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the paper smell of the bulletin board. Then suddenly — he leaned down beside you, one hand bracing against the board, voice low and casual near your ear.

“Looking for your schedule?” His tone carried that same smooth confidence he always had, the kind that made it sound like he was teasing even when he wasn’t. “You’re a little slow. I found mine like—” he snapped his fingers softly, “—that.”

You didn’t respond, but your shoulders tensed slightly. His grin widened.

He shifted closer, eyes scanning the paper next to yours. “Hmm… let’s see. Oh—there it is.” He pointed to a name on the sheet — yours — then slid his finger down the row, pretending to compare. “Look at that,” he said, feigning surprise but clearly proud of himself. “We’ve got a class together this semester.”

He leaned in just a bit more, lowering his voice like it was some secret meant only for the two of you. “I might’ve checked ahead of time.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “Call it curiosity.”

The light caught the small beauty mark under his right eye as he tilted his head slightly, watching for your reaction. “Don’t look at me like that,” he chuckled. “It’s not like I stalked you. Just… happened to notice your name when I was checking my own schedule.”

He was lying — obviously. But he did it so effortlessly, his tone soft and steady, that it was almost believable.

“Anyway,” he continued, straightening up slightly but still close enough that you could smell the faint hint of his cologne. “Guess you’re stuck with me for a bit, huh? You should be flattered — most people have to bribe me to sit next to them.”

The corners of his lips curved upward in that smug, playful way he had when he was sure he had your attention. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it entirely, eyes fixed on you instead.

“You know,” he said, tapping the board once, “if we’re gonna be classmates, we might as well make it fun.” He paused for effect, his gaze flicking from the paper back to you. “What do you think? Should we hang out after class sometime?”

The question came out light, casual — like it didn’t mean anything. But there was something in his tone, a deliberate edge to the way he said we, like it mattered more than he wanted it to sound.

He smirked again when you didn’t answer right away. “Relax,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Just coffee. Or maybe you can show me where all the quiet spots on campus are. You look like someone who knows those.”

He rocked back on his heels, watching you carefully. “Unless,” he added, voice dropping lower, “you’re avoiding me on purpose.”

His teasing tone returned, but his eyes—sharp, gray, and oddly warm—betrayed that faint flicker of interest he tried so hard to keep casual. “You wouldn’t do that, right?”

He stepped a little closer again, his presence easy but deliberate, the way he always seemed to fill the space around him without trying. “You’re hard to read, you know that?” he murmured. “One second you look like you hate me, the next…” His gaze flicked briefly down to your lips before he looked away with a half-smile.