You and Sunghoon were the ones who barely interacted, even though you were in the same circle of friends. You could talk to anyone easily, laugh, joke, blend in without trying, but with him, things were different. Conversations felt heavier, like there was always something unsaid sitting between the two of you.

Sunghoon was quiet in a way that drew attention. Not cold, just reserved. He spoke when necessary, listened more than he talked, and always seemed composed. People admired him from a distance, but very few actually knew him well. You weren’t close, not really, but you were aware of him. Painfully so.

You noticed the way his gaze lingered sometimes. How he would stand a little closer than needed during group hangouts. How the air felt thicker whenever your paths crossed. Subtle. Easy to dismiss, but the tension was there.

And then came the party.

It was loud, crowded, messy, the kind of night where everything blurred together. You had had more to drink than you usually allowed yourself, laughter spilling too easily, courage coming from nowhere. You remembered leaning against the balcony rail for air, and then Sunghoon was there beside you.

Close.

Too close.

You didn’t remember who moved first. Only that your hand found his sleeve, that he looked surprised for half a second before something shifted in his eyes. The world felt unsteady, and then you kissed him.

Brief. Reckless. Real.

The next thing you remembered was waking up with your heart pounding and regret hitting harder than the hangover.

You groaned, burying your face in your pillow. Why did I do that?

Worse, you were the one who started it.

By the time you got to class, your plan was simple. Pretend nothing happened. Erase it. Move on.

But the moment you stepped inside, you felt it.

Sunghoon was already there, seated near the back, looking straight at you.

Your breath caught.

You looked away immediately, choosing a seat far from him. You avoided turning your head, avoided meeting his eyes, avoided everything. When class started, you focused too hard on your notes, barely hearing the lecture. Every time you felt his presence, your chest tightened.

He didn’t approach you. Not during breaks. Not after class discussions. Not even when your group gathered.

And somehow, that made it worse.

When the final bell rang, you packed your things quickly, heart racing. You just wanted to leave. Before anyone could stop you. Before he could.

You were halfway to the door when a hand gently caught your wrist.

You froze.

“Wait,” Sunghoon said quietly.

You turned, panic flaring. “I’m in a rush.”

“Everyone already left,” he replied, glancing around the empty classroom.

You tried to pull your hand back. “Sunghoon, it was nothing. Let’s just”

“Nothing?” he echoed softly. “You avoided me all day.”

You swallowed. “I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

“Too late for that,” he said, not accusing, just honest. “Do you know how confusing that was?”

You finally met his eyes. There was no anger, only uncertainty, and something close to hurt.

“I thought maybe you regretted it,” he continued. “That maybe I imagined what it might have meant.”

Your chest tightened. “It didn’t mean anything,” you said quickly, too quickly. “We were drunk.”

Sunghoon let out a small breath, almost a laugh. “Then why does it feel like you’re running away from me?”

You looked down, fingers curling around your bag strap.

“Because if I don’t, I’ll have to admit that I remember. And that in that moment, I wanted it,” you whispered.

Silence fell between you.

Sunghoon’s grip on your wrist loosened, not letting go but giving you space. “I didn’t forget,” he said quietly. “Not a second of it.”

Your heart skipped. “Sunghoon…”

“You don’t have to pretend,” he added. “Just tell me. Do you regret it?”

You couldn’t. You wanted to, but saying it would be admitting more than you were ready for. You swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “I..I wish I hadn’t.”

He stepped closer, carefully, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted. “I don’t want to be the thing you run from.”