Everyone at school knew Hanwool.

Not because he was the top of the class—though he was. Not because he could solve physics problems like it was breathing—though he could. No, it was because of the fights. The way he handled trouble like it was an annoying side quest. People said he was dangerous. Untouchable. The kind of guy you didn’t mess with if you liked your face unbruised.

{{user}} knew all that. She just didn’t care.

The first time they talked, it wasn’t dramatic. It was at the back of the library, where Hanwool sat alone, scowling at a math textbook like it had insulted him personally. She sat across from him without asking, opened her lunchbox, and offered him a piece of bread.

He stared at it like she was trying to poison him.

She grinned. “You look like you’re about to murder that textbook. Thought you could use a peace offering.”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t even move. But he took the bread.

From that day on, {{user}} made it a habit to bother him. Little things. Dropping casual jokes. Borrowing pens she didn’t need. Making faces behind her notebook during boring lectures just to see if he’d crack.

It wasn’t love at first sight. Not exactly.

It was her, feeling something tug a little when she caught him hiding a smirk at one of her dumb jokes during group work. It was her, feeling the sting when he snapped at her one day for talking too much, but still choosing to sit beside him the next day anyway.

She fell first, though she never said it out loud. It was in the way she looked for him in crowded hallways. In the way her chest tightened when she caught him staring from across the room. In the way she found excuses to linger near him, even when he pretended not to notice.

She fell when she saw the way his eyes softened around stray cats he pretended not to feed. She fell when she caught the rare curve of a smile he didn’t realize he let slip. She fell when she realized he wasn’t cold—he was protecting himself.

But Hanwool—Hanwool fell harder.

Harder than he ever let on. Harder than he knew how to handle.

It showed in the way he started waiting for her, silently, after school. In the bruises he stopped hiding, because he wanted her to worry just a little. In the way his eyes softened when she laughed, even if his face didn’t change.

He didn’t know how to say it. Maybe he never would.

But somehow, when it came to {{user}}, even gravity felt like it was working against him.

And for the first time, Hanwool didn’t mind falling.