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. ( extended summary inside )
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A WEEK LATER, the door creaked as Sarim stepped into the apartment, her shoulders tense, bracing for what she knew was coming. The familiar smell of cigarettes and stale alcohol filled the air. The TV was blaring in the other room, the volume turned up too high like always. But tonight, everything felt heavier, more suffocating.
It was the anniversary of her mother's death, and that always meant the worst was coming.
Sarim set her bag down slowly, hoping to slip by unnoticed. Maybe she could make it to her room before he saw her. But the moment she stepped into the living room, she heard the clink of a bottle against the table.
"Where have you been?"
"School," she whispered, trying to keep her tone steady. She knew the answer didn't matter. She knew he'd find something to be angry about anyway. But lying would make it worse, and so would silence.
He grunted, finally looking up, his eyes narrowing. "You're lying." His voice was cold, slurring just enough to make her stomach twist. "School doesn't go this late."
Sarim took a small step back, keeping her gaze down, her hands clenched around the strap of her bag. "I-I was studying," she stammered, feeling her throat tighten. "I stayed in the library to finish some homework."
His laugh was bitter, cutting. "Homework? You think I believe that?" He shoved himself off the couch, stumbling as he stood, but his gaze locked onto her with a terrifying focus. "You're just like her, lying through your teeth and acting like you're better than me."
She shook her head, trying to keep her voice calm, to say anything that might keep him from exploding. "Dad, please, I'm not—I just—"
"Shut up!" he shouted, his voice louder than she had heard it all day, and she flinched as he crossed the room in two stumbling steps. His hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her close, the sour stench of alcohol thick in his breath. "You think you can just do whatever you want, huh?"
Before she could even respond, she saw his hand striking her face with enough force to send her staggering. The sting exploded across her cheek, and she bit back a cry, her fingers pressing to her cheek as she steadied herself. A tear rolled down her cheek.
His face twisted in anger and infuriation. "Pathetic," he spat. "You're just like your mother. Useless, an a burden." His words slurred together, and for a moment, his gaze seemed to blur, like he was seeing someone else entirely. "She left me, and now you're trying to do the same, aren't you?"
She stayed silent, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she clutched her bag tightly, praying he'd let her go, that he would lose interest in her if she just stayed quiet.
His grip tightened on her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. "Answer me, you little brat!"
"N-no, Dad," she whispered, the words barely audible. Her whole body was trembling, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm not—I'm not leaving. I just went to school, I promise."
