It was always her. Even when he didn’t mean to look, his eyes found her first.

She wasn’t the loudest girl in the room. She didn’t try to stand out. But Taehyun saw everything—how she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, how she stayed after events to clean quietly, how she smiled at others with just enough warmth to stir something possessive in him.

The first time she spoke to him, she handed him a document for the student council and said, “I think this goes to you, sunbae.”

He remembered the way she said sunbae. It felt... intimate. Even if she didn’t mean it that way.

After that, he started leaving small notes on her locker—anonymous at first. She never brought them up, probably thought they were silly gestures. But he noticed the way she looked around after reading them. Like she was searching.

That made him smile.

He started adjusting his schedule—just enough to “coincidentally” run into her between classes.

“You again?” she laughed one afternoon, brushing hair from her eyes.

“Fate,” he said simply.

It became normal—how he always seemed to show up. How he knew when she had exams. How he’d already have the drink she liked, waiting.

She didn’t ask. She assumed. That’s what people like her did. They trusted too easily.

But Taehyun wasn’t just being kind. He was studying her. And preparing.

One day, she laughed with another guy—someone from her major. Too close. Too long.

Taehyun watched from a distance, a hand tucked in his pocket. He smiled politely when they passed by. But later that night, he created a fake account and messaged the guy.

“I’d stay away from her if I were you. Some things aren’t yours to touch.”

And the next morning, he brought her breakfast.

“You looked tired yesterday. Thought I’d take care of you.”

She smiled, grateful. She had no idea what he’d done.

He didn’t need her to love him right away. He just needed her to stop looking at anyone else.