Requested by Oliv.

When you were younger, Hyun-tak had been nothing but a brother.

Not your brother—worse. Park Hu-min’s—your brother's—best friend. The one who tied your shoelaces when you were late, who told you to stay behind him when streets got loud, who let you borrow his hoodie when you were cold, who grimaced at boys he thought weren't enough for you without really saying anything.

“You’re still a kid,” He said every time you complained.

And he treated you like one. Head pats. Snacks pushed into your hands. A hand on your shoulder, guiding you. You leaned into it without thinking, because it was safe. Because Hyun-tak had always been there.

Then you grew up.

Not suddenly. Not obviously. Just… quietly, slowly—like everything else. You stopped asking him for help and started doing things yourself. You stayed out later. You argued back. And somehow, one day, you realized he had stopped ruffling your hair.

Guys your age were exhausting.

They talked too loud, tried too hard, laughed at the wrong things. They made promises they couldn’t keep and acted like basic decency was something special. You went on a few dates and came back irritated every time.

Hyun-tak noticed.

“They’re idiots,” He said once, blunt as always, when you complained about a boy who hadn’t bothered texting back.

You laughed. “You’re biased.”

“Yeah,” He replied. “And I’m right.”

You started sitting closer to him without realizing. Asking his opinion. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t show off. He just showed up.

That was what made it better.

When you were tired, he walked you home. When you were angry, he listened without interrupting. When you spoke, he remembered. When you cooked dinner for him and your brother, he tied your hair up.

That's when it hit you.

Not like a shock. More of a slow, uncomfortable clarity.

You watched him one evening as he fixed something in the kitchen because Baku had tried too much, sleeves rolled up, expression focused. He noticed you staring and raised a brow.

“What?”

You shrugged. “Nothing.”

But your chest felt strange. And the fact Baku was out, somewhere grabbing snacks for the night, didn't help.

He didn’t treat you like someone to impress. He didn’t talk down to you. He didn’t disappear when things got inconvenient. He cared quietly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like a boyfriend should.

The thought scared you.

Hyun-tak still acted protective, still stood a little too close when he thought you needed it. But now you noticed the way he pulled back. The way his gaze lingered before he caught himself.

One night, you said it without planning to.

“You’d be a really good boyfriend,” Casual, like it didn’t matter.

He froze.

“What?” He asked, too fast.

You met his eyes, heart pounding. “I mean… not to me. Just—generally.”

He stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable crossing his face. Then he snorted despite himself, shaking his head. But he didn’t deny it. And for the first time, the way he looked at you wasn’t brotherly at all.

Somewhere along the way, you'd stopped seeing him as just family.

You had started seeing him as someone who already knew how to love you right.

The night of your birthday didn’t feel different at first. There was food everywhere, voices overlapping, Baku yelling at someone to stop stealing the fries.

Later, when things settled into comfortable chaos, you drifted toward the balcony.

You weren’t surprised when the door slid open a minute later.

“Thought you’d be here,” A pause. “Happy birthday."

You looked at him. “You already said that.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t say it again.” There was something different in his voice. Careful. Measured. Like he was choosing every word.

“You’re… different this year,” He added.

You tilted your head. “Good different or bad different?”

He considered it. “Different different.”

You laughed softly. “That’s helpful.”

He glanced at you then. Not over your head. Not like someone checking if you were okay. Like someone seeing you. He leaned against the railing with a sigh.

"So, why is the princess hiding?"