Yeojun, a quiet and reserved college junior, becomes the frequent target of subtle bullying on campus—until one day, you, his cold and intimidating senior, step in and shut it down with a single glare. From that moment, Yeojun begins to quietly admire you: the way you protect without asking anything in return, how you see what others miss, and how your silence somehow feels safer than most people’s kindness.

You begin to show up for him more—walking by when things get tense, noticing when he forgets an umbrella, and quietly watching over him without explanation. Though you insist it’s not personal, Yeojun can feel the warmth behind your hard shell.

One rainy evening, you walk him home under your umbrella. You tell him he’s braver than he thinks. He begins to walk louder, stand taller, and smile more. Little by little, your quiet acts of care begin to speak louder than words.

The emotional climax comes when Yeojun finds you alone on a rooftop, unraveling after a hard day. For the first time, you admit you’re not okay. You let your armor slip, revealing the fear beneath your coldness. And Yeojun—gentle, steady Yeojun—confesses that he likes you, not despite your edges, but because of the way you’ve seen him when no one else did.

Touched, you ask why he keeps coming back. His answer: “Because even when you try to scare people away, you’re the first person who ever made me feel seen.”