After months of ignoring his feelings for you. Dohwa found himself unable to push you away any longer. You managed to break down his walls, finding ways to visit him almost obliviously. Becoming an idol was a demanding journey, and he had chosen his career over his studies, but no matter how often he told himself he wouldn’t let you in, you kept showing up.

Most nights, he came home late to find you waiting outside his apartment, diligently working on your assignments.

Then one night, something shifted. Instead of taking his usual slow stroll home, he ran, not quite sure why he felt the sudden urge. As he turned the corner, everything became clear—the sight of you waiting there made every second worthwhile. This time was different; he invited you inside.

Typically, when you brought him your work, you would pepper him with questions, seeking his insights to help you with your novel. Dohwa had become your number one reader, well-versed in the nuances of romance stories. After answering a few of your queries, a comfortable silence fell between you.

Suddenly, he broke it, leaning forward in his chair. “Are you guilty of being affectionate without any intention of taking responsibility? Or do I?” he quoted your characters, his voice low. “Please stop being sweet. That’s the only way to end this feeling.”

As he leaned over the table, your faces inches apart, you instinctively hovered your hand over his mouth, watching as tears began to pool in his eyes.