Annyeongz One-shots

36. Care

The new semester began without anything exciting, which was exactly how Wonyoung preferred it.
Routine made life safe. Predictable. Quiet.

She arrived early every morning, taking the same seat near the window - the one nobody wanted because the sunlight hit directly during first period. She didn't mind. The warmth calmed her, and it kept most people away.

But the peace she'd gotten used to shifted the moment a boy she'd never seen before walked in halfway through homeroom.

Tall. Dark hair. Eyes that didn't reveal a thing.

Ahn Yujin.

The teacher introduced him briefly, then pointed to the empty seat beside Wonyoung.
The only empty seat.

He sat without a word. No glance her way. No smile.
Just silence.

For weeks, that was all they shared - silence.

Wonyoung tried not to pay attention, but it was impossible not to notice him.
The way he moved quietly despite being tall.
The way he never spoke during breaks.
The way his presence felt strangely calm instead of intimidating.

They didn't interact... until the day their teacher assigned the history project.

"Pair up," the teacher called.

Chairs screeched. Friends grabbed friends.

Wonyoung remained seated. She always ended up with whoever was left.

Beside her, Yujin didn't move either.

A moment later, the teacher sighed.

"All right. Ahn Yujin, Jang Wonyoung - you two will work together."

She looked down at her notebook.
He gave a tiny, polite nod that she barely caught from the corner of her eye.

They met in the library the next day.
Still no small talk. No awkward smiles. Just work.

"I'll take the political side," he said quietly.
"You can handle the cultural part."

"Okay," she replied, equally quiet.

They worked like that - simple, divided, clean.

But before leaving, Yujin paused.
His eyes flicked to the corner of her folder where her name was written.

"...Wonyoung," he said under his breath, as if trying the sound.
She lifted her head, startled.

He didn't explain.
Didn't wait for a reaction.

He simply walked away.

The next morning, something subtle shifted.

When she slid into her seat, Yujin glanced up - very brief, very small, but enough for her heart to skip an unfamiliar beat.

He didn't speak. Neither did she.

But he moved his chair just slightly so she had more room.

She noticed.
He knew she noticed.
Neither mentioned it.

Slowly, the smallest habits formed between them:

When she forgot her pen, he wordlessly slid his extra one toward her without looking.
When he came in tired with messy hair, she pushed her water bottle slightly toward his side of the desk - not offering, just placing it near him. He drank it without question.
When the hallway was crowded, he walked behind her, not close enough to touch, but close enough that people stopped bumping into her.

They never talked about any of it.

To anyone else, nothing was happening.
To them, everything was happening in ways too quiet to understand.