The sketch was still under her pillow.
Hae-won didn't take it out again. Not that day. Not when the sun rose too slowly and the clouds hung too low, like Baekhyun itself was holding its breath.
In her morning class, Ji-ae kept looking at her like she wanted to ask something but didn't. They were sitting too far apart for whispering, too close to pretend nothing was off.
By lunch, Ji-ae caved. "Okay. What's going on?"
"Nothing," Hae-won replied automatically.
Ji-ae raised both brows. "Then why do you look like you haven't slept in six days and you're secretly planning someone's funeral?"
"Because I haven't, and I might be."
"Hilarious," Ji-ae deadpanned. "You're spiraling. Don't be weird about it. Just show me."
"I told you—"
"I'm your best friend. Which means I get to call you out when you're being dramatic and lying badly."
Hae-won stared at her tray. Her rice was going cold. The smell of soup made her stomach curl.
After a long pause, she pulled out the folded notebook from her bag. Slipped it across the table.
Ji-ae opened it. Her chewing slowed.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Ji-ae stared at the sketch for a moment. "Still don't recognize the handwriting?"
"Nope."
"Well." Ji-ae cleared her throat, flipping the notebook closed with too much care. "The dramatic flair is definitely giving secret admirer who probably watches French noir films alone."
"You think it's a joke?"
"I think," Ji-ae said carefully, "it's someone trying to make you feel seen."
Hae-won didn't answer.
Ji-ae leaned forward. "Is it really so hard to believe someone here might… actually like you?"
"Yes," Hae-won said flatly.
"Okay, well. That's rude. To yourself. And also, like, statistically wrong."
"I don't care about statistics."
"No, you care about control. But Hae-won—" Ji-ae's voice softened— "maybe this is just... someone reaching out."
"Then they should just reach out," Hae-won muttered, "instead of lurking in the margins of my assignments."
Ji-ae snorted into her tea.
---
studio later that afternoon.
Not for any reason. Not consciously.
The smell of oil paint and graphite clung to the corridor like breath on glass. The doors were open. Light spilled out. Haneul was inside.
Alone.
He didn't look up when she paused in the doorway. Just kept working, a pencil dancing between his fingers and a large canvas in front of him, half-covered in abstract lines and smudges.
It wasn't his usual style.
He was making something angry. Beautiful, but jagged.
She lingered.
He noticed.
"Lost?" he asked, not turning.
"Maybe."
His lips twitched. "This room eats time. People get lost here a lot."
She stepped inside. Her voice was softer now. "What are you drawing?"
"I'm not sure yet."
He finally looked at her, and for a moment, his gaze caught something on her face.
"You look tired," he said. "More than usual."
"Thanks."
He smiled faintly. "Wasn't an insult."
Silence stretched between them.
Then he added, quieter, "Is it something to do with that sketch you tucked into your bag?"
Her shoulders stiffened.
"You saw that?"
"I see more than I let on," he said simply.
Hae-won glanced down at her shoes.
"I didn't mean to pry," he added. "But if someone's bothering you…"
"They're not," she said too fast.
Haneul studied her for a second longer. Then, with that same gentle aloofness, he said, "Okay."
Just that.
Like a line drawn in the sand. No pressure. Just presence.
She found herself breathing easier.
---
That evening, the skies opened up. Rain tapped on the glass windows of their dorms like secrets trying to get in.
Hae-won sat on her bed with Na-ri and Bo-ram sprawled on the rug beside her, the three of them half-watching an old drama on mute.
"Okay," Na-ri said suddenly, "but what if the admirer is a girl?"
Bo-ram choked on her popcorn. "Na-ri."
"I'm serious! It's Baekhyun. Weirder things have happened. Not that it's weird or anything" She blushe, Her cheeks suddenly turning pink.
"I think it's romantic," Bo-ram said. "I mean, someone out there thinks you're worth sketching. That's way more effort than a text."
"Unless it's Jin-woon," Na-ri said, eyes gleaming. "Then it's just strategy."
Bo-ram threw a pillow at her.
But Hae-won wasn't laughing.
She kept thinking of Jin-woon's voice. The way he said "I don't watch everyone this closely." The way he didn't push, just waited.
He'd known.
He always did.
She excused herself early and curled beneath her blanket.
At exactly 2:14 a.m., her phone buzzed.
She didn't look.
Not right away.
But eventually, curiosity always won.
Unknown Number:
> You're not afraid. That's why I see you.
She stared at the screen for a long, long time.
And then, finally, she wrote back.
> Who are you?
No response.
Just silence.
Just rain.