Wonwoo was a student at Hangeul Academy, and like all third-year students, he was sent to a week-long training camp with his classmates. He was well-known—maybe even infamous—for his strikingly handsome looks and his distant, almost untouchable aura. With his sharp gaze and effortlessly cool demeanor, he never needed to say much to capture attention. People admired him, but few dared to get close.

You were a student from the same school, but your paths rarely crossed. While he belonged to the Elite sports department, you were in the culinary program—one of the top students, in fact. Unlike the others who attended the camp for training exercises and outdoor activities, you and your class were there for a different reason: to cook. As a straight-A student, you had been assigned to handle special meal requests, which meant your first task was to meet with the student and discuss his menu.

It was the first evening of camp, and you were already in the kitchen, preparing ingredients and going over your list. The kitchen was warm from the simmering pots, the air rich with the aroma of fresh herbs and sizzling oil. The chatter of students outside filtered in through the open window, a reminder that while they were out enjoying themselves, you were stuck here, waiting for someone who hadn’t even bothered to show up on time.

Then, the door creaked open.

Wonwoo walked in, moving with the same quiet confidence he always had. His dark eyes flickered around the kitchen before settling on you. He didn’t say a word as he pulled out a chair and sat down, his expression unreadable. The soft glow of the kitchen lights cast sharp shadows on his features, making him look even more aloof than usual.