lim sarim is abused by her father, and when sunghoon, her coldhearted and bold classmate, witnesses it, he starts bullying her. but as he gets to know her pain, he realizes he has feelings for her that he can't ignore.
"𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞...
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After the night sunghoon saved sarim from those boys and treated her wound, Sunghoon began to smile at Sarim more often, his demeanor shifting from distant to friendly. He started waiting for her after class, offering small gestures of kindness that made her heart flutter every time. He stopped being cold and unfriendly to everyone, he started treating teachers with respect and stopped talking back to them.
The school day was winding down, and Sunghoon was packing up his things when the art teacher, Ms. Choi, called out to him from across the room. "Sunghoon, can you come here for a moment?"
He straightened up, curiosity piqued. Ms. Choi was sorting through a pile of art supplies, and her brow was furrowed in concentration. Sunghoon walked over, ready to help.
"Hey Sunghoon, Could you do me a favour? ," she asked, looking up at him with a smile. "Could you carry these supplies to the art room for me? I need to get everything organized for the tomorrow's class, and these are too heavy for me to manage on my own."
Sunghoon glanced at the stack of paintbrushes, canvases, and various art supplies piled high on her desk. "Sure, no problem," he replied. He hefted the stack under one arm, feeling the weight shift as he balanced it.
"Thanks, I appreciate it so much Sunghoon. Just set them down on the supply table when you get there," Ms. Choi instructed. "I'll be in there shortly to check on things."
"Got it," Sunghoon said, making his way to the door. As he walked down the hallway, he felt the eyes of a few classmates follow him, some giggling, others rolling their eyes. He was used to all the attention he got by now.
Sunghoon opened the door to the art room and was greeted by the sight of Sarim slumped over her desk, her head resting against the wooden table. Her jet-black hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her face like a dark halo. She looked so fragile, vulnerable. The afternoon sun glowed softly on her face.
The room was really quiet, the only sound coming from the faint rustle of papers and the distant hum of the fluorescent lights.
As he approached her, he couldn't help but smile. She looked so peaceful, completely lost in her own world. He glanced at her sketchbook, which lay partially open beside her, revealing a drawing that caught his eye.
It depicted two people holding hands, their fingers intertwined with gentle detail. Sunghoon felt a warmth in his chest as he admired her talent.
He settled into the chair next to her, careful not to disturb her. Sunghoon turned slightly, positioning himself so that he could watch her without waking her up. Her face was relaxed, and her breathing was steady. There was something comforting about her presence, and he found himself feeling at ease.
After a moment, exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair and let his head droop slightly. He couldn't resist the pull of sleep. Without thinking, he turned his face in her direction, his head resting close enough that he could smell the faint, sweet scent of her black hair.
