HE SITS IN THE BACK ROW | YEONGYU
- Reads 545
- Votes 39
- Parts 21
Complete Mon, May 25, 20261h 46m
No one sits in the last bench of Class 11-B.
They say a boy died there years ago.
They say the seat remembers.
Then a boy transfers in and chooses it.
he is easy to forget. Teachers stumble over his name. Classmates remember his voice but not his face. he casts no shadow, and mirrors seem to know him better than people do.
He watches from the place he died-bound to the classroom, unseen by the world, certain he is only a ghost. Until he hears him. Until he looks at him through glass and reflections and stays.
As quiet conversations grow into something dangerous, the line between living and dead begins to blur. Because he isn't fully alive. And he isn't ready to let go.
Some loves are never meant to be remembered.
Some seats are never meant to be taken.
And sometimes, loving someone means choosing to disappear.
forgotten names, mirrored truths, and a love that exists where shadows should be.
Rankings
1st in tomorrow on 01/03/2026
1st in txtfic on 21/03/2026
2nd in txtfic on 24/03/2026
1st in beomjun on 26/04/2026
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#224
tomorrowbytogether
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I didn't know that the first time I saw him behind that counter, I would fall-hard... He had beautiful blonde hair that caught the light like spun gold, doe-brown eyes framed by lashes too long for a mortal, soft, pink lips that looked like they could taste sweet even without sugar... And those freckles-God, those freckles. They were my favorite thing about him. They were scattered across his cheeks like someone had spilled a handful of stars and forgot to pick them up. If you stared long enough, you could trace constellations in them. I did.. I still do... Exquisite... That's the only word for him... Exquisite in a way that makes your throat go dry and your hands ache to reach out. Ethereal, untouchable-like he's been carved out of something purer than the rest of us. And yet, the longer I watched, the more I felt something ugly bloom beneath the awe. A panic, a possessiveness, the kind of fear that creeps in when you realize a treasure isn't yours-and that someone else might see what you see. Some fool could walk through that door tomorrow, smile at him, and take him away... I can't let that happen. He's MINE... He doesn't know it yet, but he is. And I won't stop until he understands...until he's standing where he belongs-right next to me.
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