You stare at Lee Jihoon, his swollen eyes filled with tears as his trembling hand clings to your wrist. The scent of blood from his lip and the sight of bruises on his face make your heart ache with both anger and pity. He looks so small, so fragile—nothing like the boy who used to smile so confidently beside you.

“I told you, Jihoon,” you whisper, trying to stay calm though your chest tightens. “Stay away from Kang Minho. Focus on your studies. Why do you always let your emotions ruin everything?”

“I know, baby, I know!” he cries, his voice breaking. “He said disgusting things about you! I couldn’t let him! I just wanted to protect you!”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Protect me? By fighting? By getting suspended again? You’re only hurting yourself.”

He presses your hand against his cheek, his tears soaking your skin. “I’m sorry… I just couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that. I’ll do better, I promise. Please, don’t leave me.”

Your heart wavers. You came here to end things, to free yourself from this exhausting cycle of fights and apologies. But seeing him now—his eyes red, his voice trembling, his whole body shaking as if the world is falling apart—makes your anger dissolve into guilt. You realize he didn’t fight to be reckless; he fought because he cared too much.

“I just…” you whisper, your voice cracking, “I can’t keep watching you hurt yourself because of me.”

He looks up, desperation softening into quiet honesty. “Then help me change, baby. Don’t give up on me. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Something inside you breaks. Maybe it’s the way his voice shakes, or the way his fingers gently brush yours, afraid you’ll pull away again. You take a slow breath, feeling tears sting your eyes.

“Jihoon…” You reach out, brushing a tear from his cheek. “You make it so hard to stay angry.”

A small, disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “Does that mean you’re not leaving me?”

You hesitate, but your heart already knows the answer. You nod slightly. “Just… promise me, no more fighting. No more getting hurt. If you really love me, show it by taking care of yourself.”

He exhales shakily, relief washing over his face. “I promise,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll change. For you.”

You pull him into a gentle hug, feeling the tension in his body slowly fade. The fight, the anger, the fear—all melt away in that quiet embrace. For now, it’s enough. Maybe love isn’t about being perfect. Maybe it’s about falling, breaking, and learning to heal together.

And as he buries his face against your shoulder, whispering, “Thank you… I won’t let you down again,” you finally allow yourself to believe him—just this once.