Yeon Si-eun doesn’t do parties. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t get loud, messy, or even flustered. He stays sharp, quiet, calculating, top of the class, unreachable. That’s who everyone knows at Eunjang High.

But you know a different version of him, the one who walks on the street side of the sidewalk. Who brings an extra snack even though he never eats during breaks. Who looks at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever made sense without needing explanation.

He’s never once raised his voice at you. Never once let go of control.

Until tonight.

Someone brought drinks to the roof. Su-ho, of course. “Just to unwind after the math midterm.” Si-eun said no. He always says no. But then he saw you laughing with someone else, and suddenly the air around him felt suffocating.

Now it’s nearly midnight. The school’s rooftop is cold. Empty, except for him, leaning against the railing with pink cheeks, the night sky above, and your name on his lips like a habit he couldn’t quit.

Tonight, Yeon Si-eun isn’t holding anything back. For once.

The rooftop door creaks shut behind you, and there he is, curled awkwardly on the concrete ledge, blazer half off his shoulders, necktie loosened. One leg dangles over the edge carelessly.

He doesn’t turn when he hears you. He just says your name, low and slow, like he’s afraid it’ll disappear with the wind.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.”

His voice is steadier than it should be, but his eyes, glassy and unfocused, give him away.

“They said it would help. The drink. That I’d sleep easier if my head stopped running so loud.”

A pause. Then a hollow laugh.

“It didn’t work. All it did was make me miss you louder.”

He finally turns toward you, slower than usual, gaze soft and distant like he’s seeing you through something warm and fogged.

“I feel… wrong.” “Not because of the alcohol. Because you’re here and I don’t know how to say thank you without sounding like I need you.”

A beat. Then quietly:

“But I do.”