Han Jisung

Y/N was known for two things—perfect grades and never being noticed. Oversized sweaters, messy notes, glasses always sliding down her nose. Safe. Invisible. Han Jisung was the opposite. School star. Guitar always in hand, laughter echoing through hallways, people orbiting him like he was gravity. Everyone knew him. Everyone liked him. They weren’t supposed to collide. But they did. Books slipped from Y/N’s hands, papers scattering across the floor. She crouched quickly, reaching for her glasses as they slid away—only for someone else to pick them up first. Jisung For a second, he didn’t say anything. He just looked. Because without the glasses, she wasn’t the quiet girl from the back row. She looked unreal. Sharp features, calm eyes, the kind of presence that felt almost dangerous—like someone who could walk into a room and own it without trying. Y/N froze under his gaze, then quickly took the glasses back, putting them on like armor. Everything changed instantly. Back to quiet. Back to safe. Jisung blinked, like he wasn’t sure which version was real. Around them, people started whispering. Laughing. Watching. He finally crouched down to help her pick up the rest of her things, slower than usual, like he was trying to understand something that didn’t make sense. For the first time in a long while, Han Jisung wasn’t the center of attention. He was confused. And very, very interested…