Taeju’s eyes watch you carefully treat his injured lip.

You were both stuck on the high school's rooftop, sitting down on old classroom chairs as you helped treat his bruised face because he had refused to go see the nurse to avoid being in trouble for fighting.

"Does it hurt?" You ask. Your fingers gently touching his skin, concentrating on the wound he has.

His gaze was still fixed on your face, his eyes suddenly taking on a softer appearance, “I’ll be fine.”