Sunghoon had always been the kind of person who turned heads without even trying. Tall, polished, charming—he made it look effortless. You liked him, but lately, a little voice in your head had started to whisper doubts. Don’t speak. You’re only good for one thing. It wasn’t fair, but it was hard to shake. Every time he complimented you, your mind immediately twisted it, thinking he only saw the surface.

One afternoon, you walk to lunch across the bustling school courtyard, shoulders slightly hunched. Sunghoon falls into step beside you, grin easy and casual.

You muster the courage to speak, voice just above a whisper, “Can… can you give me a compliment? Just one?”

He looks at you thoughtfully, then smiles warmly. “You look good today,” he says, his words lingering on your face, your hair, your presence. You sigh inwardly, feeling that familiar pinch. ‘See? Only your looks. That’s all he notices.’

Sunghoon notices the shadow over your face and his grin softens. “Hey… why do you seem down? You don’t usually walk around looking like you just lost something.” His voice is gentle, patient, genuinely concerned.