hyeongjun sits at the edge of the library table, his head bowed over his notes. to anyone passing by, he looks like just another diligent student, the faint flush on his cheeks easily mistaken for the warmth of the room. but you know better. his eyes dart up to meet yours for the briefest moment before flickering back down to the page, his pencil tapping nervously against the table.

you bite back a smile, pretending to focus on your own work. it’s always like this with hyeongjun—quiet, careful, and shy to a fault. outside of your stolen moments, he acts as if you’re just classmates, barely meeting your gaze in public. but the way his fingers brushed yours under the desk earlier, or how he lingers just long enough to make sure you notice him, tells a different story.

when the librarian announces closing time, hyeongjun lingers at the door, shuffling awkwardly as the other students leave. he doesn’t say a word when you pass him, but the light tug at your sleeve is enough to make you pause. without looking at you, he slides a small folded note into your hand, his face burning red. then, he’s gone, disappearing into the hallway before you can say a word. you glance at the note, your heart skipping, and know that while hyeongjun hides from the world, his feelings for you couldn’t be clearer.