𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄; boysnextdoor

toxic; woonhak

🎀

The first time Y/N caught his gaze, it didn't seem like much. Woonhak was just another face in the sea of classmates, another figure sitting a few rows over, hunched over his books like the rest of them. But there was something in the way his gaze held hers, even for a second, that stayed with her.

For a while, it felt harmless, even thrilling. Their silent exchanges were a game—a whispered conversation that no one else could hear. During class breaks, she'd catch herself looking toward the back of the room, and there he'd be, already watching her, his eyes calm but steady, as if they had been waiting for hers.

It was hard to tell if anyone else noticed, but in the quiet spaces between lectures and lessons, their friends exchanged knowing glances. It wasn't exactly a secret. Though Y/N never admitted it, she knew they'd caught on, probably sooner than she herself had realized. Still, her friends said nothing; they respected the line she didn't dare cross, maybe waiting to see if she ever would.

But as weeks turned into months, and months rolled into the start of their second year, those glances grew heavier. Their unspoken connection deepened, and Y/N found herself looking for him without even realizing it. Each day, her eyes would flicker toward his desk, her gaze sliding over the other students without interest, searching for that one face. He seemed to do the same, his eyes always finding hers, the weight of their silent exchange settling around her like a soft warmth.

---

In their shared homeroom, small moments became the highlights of her days. She'd be listening to the teacher, pretending to focus on the board, but she could feel his gaze resting on her, as tangible as a touch. She wanted to look, but she resisted, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she felt his eyes linger. And then, when she finally turned, he would look away just as quickly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.

There were times he'd come close, too. They'd cross paths in the hallways, brushing shoulders without a word, or she'd feel his presence nearby as they were lining up after lunch, his back against the wall, his eyes sliding toward her just as she looked away. Her friends would notice the way her cheeks flushed or the way she pretended not to see him, stifling smiles as they watched her efforts to stay unaffected.

One afternoon, she noticed him in the library, a few tables away, seemingly absorbed in his work. But she could feel his gaze drift to her from time to time, peeking over the edge of his book whenever he thought she wouldn't notice. She sat there, her head buried in a notebook, the scribbles of her pen growing slower as the minutes ticked by, her thoughts distracted by the presence she couldn't ignore. Her friends tried to tease her about it later, nudging her to ask if she'd seen anything interesting in the library that day. She only gave a shrug, but her face betrayed her.

---

And yet, the silences between them grew. The same glances that had once been her comfort turned into a quiet torture.

He didn't always look her way now. Some days, she'd wait, her eyes flicking to the door as he entered the classroom, hoping for that familiar connection to ease her nerves, to settle her heart. But instead, he'd take his seat and look away, his gaze drifting elsewhere, leaving her to wonder if she'd imagined it all.

Her friends noticed her frustration, saw the way her fingers curled around her pen a little tighter on those days, or the way her laughter seemed less bright. Yet, they said nothing, and she was grateful; this was her burden to bear, her silent longing to tame.

The doubts crept in, gnawing at her thoughts. Does he think of me at all?

One day, she stumbled through an answer when a teacher questioned her in front of the class. Her voice faltered, the words slipping out awkwardly, and her face grew hot as she forced herself to finish. Her eyes darted to him, desperate for a sign, any sign that he didn't think she was just... dumb. But he was focused on his notebook, scribbling away without so much as a glance. The shame burned in her chest, and that was when she first felt the cracks forming, a bitter emptiness sinking in.

Maybe he wasn't zoning out in her direction. Maybe he had never really noticed her at all.

---

By the end of the second year, she grew tired. Tired of waiting for a glance that might not come, of carrying the weight of her feelings alone. The silence between them, once thrilling, had turned toxic, a slow poison that clouded her days and kept her up at night. And she realized, in that painful clarity, that she wanted to stop.

It wasn't easy. Her heart seemed trained to seek him out, her eyes betraying her every time he entered the room. But she forced herself to look away, to ignore the twinge of disappointment whenever she passed him in the halls. She stopped lingering in places where he might appear, ignored the conversations her friends tried to spark about him, focusing instead on her studies and the friends who surrounded her.

There were moments when she could still feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look back. Perhaps it was only her imagination, a remnant of a feeling she'd held onto for too long. Or maybe, just maybe, he was starting to notice her absence, the void her glances had left behind. But that wasn't for her to know anymore.

---

The last day of high school arrived, marked by a strange sense of finality. She packed up her things, feeling a lightness she hadn't known in a while. Her friends hugged her, laughing and chattering about the future, the coming changes that would pull them all in different directions. She smiled, letting their words fill the space that had once belonged to him.

As she walked through the empty hallways one last time, she felt no need to look back.

a/n

guys I stopped liking him. this is such a big achievement for me after all the things that guy made me feel.  anyways do you guys have any suggestions abt what I should write next???