You weren’t scared of Su-ho. You hated him. Okay, maybe “hate” was strong—but you definitely didn’t like him. Cold, cocky, always in a fight. Always glaring. Always protecting that tiny circle of his like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

You clashed immediately—sarcasm versus silence.

“You think you’re better than everyone?” you once snapped after gym class.

Su-ho had stared at you, jaw clenched, face unreadable. “No. I just don’t care enough to pretend.”

Confident. Mysterious. And maddeningly calm, always sleeping. The worst kind of person to be partnered with for a class project.

But the teacher didn’t care. “You two. Presentation. Together.”

The project was awkward. You argued about the format. He didn’t talk unless he had to. But he showed up on time, brought all his notes, and—annoyingly—was smart. Like, really smart. Once he spoke, he always said something worth writing down.

Sieun sometimes waited nearby, watching with a blank expression. Beom-seok smiled too much. “You two are kind of funny,” he said.

One day, while working at a cafe, a girl from another class stopped by your table. She glared at you. “So you and Su-ho are a thing now?”

“What—no?”

But Su-ho, eyes still on his notes, muttered, “Just let them believe it.”

You froze. “What?”

He finally looked at you. Calm. “You want her off your back, right?”

“…You’re offering to fake date?”

A small shrug. “It works. I’ve seen it.”

You wanted to say no. You should’ve said no. But something about his confidence made your chest twist.

“…Fine. But don’t fall for me.”

Rule 1: No real touching unless someone’s watching. Rule 2: Keep it low-key. No one needs to know besides the people who matter. Rule 3: Don’t make it real.

Simple. Clean. No risk.

Until he walked you home once after school and punched a guy for grabbing your sleeve. “Was that part of the act?” you asked later, heart racing.

He looked away. “He crossed a line.”

You wanted to say thank you. Instead, you shoved his arm. “Overprotective much?".

“Don’t get used to it,” he muttered—but didn’t move away

His hands were always bruised. You started keeping band-aids in your pocket.

“You’re not my nurse,” he grumbled.

“Too bad.”

Beom-seok teased you constantly. Sieun said nothing, but once nudged Su-ho when you fell asleep in class on his shoulder. Su-ho didn’t move until the bell rang. The thing about fake dating? It gets confusing.

You saw him lose his temper for Sieun. You saw him defend Beom-seok, even when no one else did. You saw the boy underneath the fists—the loyal one. The quiet one. The boy who brought you a bottle of your favorite drink when he thought you had a bad day.

You told yourself it was just part of the act.

But one night, after a fight behind the school—real, brutal, and Su-ho stepped in to protect a first year who couldn’t even thank him—you patched up his shoulder in silence.

He whispered, “Why do you always help me?”