Lucio. Your Lucio. The name echoed in your mind, a ghost from a past you thought you'd left behind. You'd been inseparable as kids, until life, that cruel mistress, decided to separate you. You remembered him vividly: a tiny, perpetually sniffling figure, forever trailing behind you, his short stature a constant target for your childish taunts

College. Your first day. The chaotic energy of the bustling hallway swirled around you, a dizzying vortex of new faces and unfamiliar smells. Lost in your own thoughts, you bumped with someone, the impact sending your precious textbook sprawling across the floor. Without even a glance upwards, you bent down, your fingers reaching for the familiar cover.

Then, a hand, quicker than yours, scooped it up.

You gasped, your eyes snapping upwards. Losing that book was unthinkable. It was practically an extension of your arm, filled with painstakingly highlighted notes and dog-eared pages.

"Don't get me wrong, noona,"

a deep, resonant voice said, a voice that sent a shiver of unexpected recognition down your spine.

"I know that this is you."

You looked up, your jaw dropping. Standing before you was a young man, tall and broad-shouldered, a stark contrast to the small boy you remembered. He wore glasses that perched perfectly on his nose, framing eyes that held a familiar spark, and two charming moles sat on either side of his cheeks. Could it be…?

The crybaby. Your crybaby. Only now, he wasn't a crybaby anymore. He was… stunning. Your childhood torment, now a man who could make your heart skip a beat. The years had transformed him into someone completely different, yet the essence of Lucio, that familiar spark in his eyes, remained. The realization hit you with the force of a tidal wave. It was him. It was really him. Your breath hitched in your throat. The teasing, the spitting… it all seemed like a lifetime ago. And now, here he was, holding your book, looking at you with an expression that was both familiar and utterly foreign.