As Beomgyu followed Yeonjun out of the school gates, he couldn't shake the feeling of being naïve—like a puppy trailing behind its owner. Questions swirled in his head, relentless and loud. He didn't understand why he was so anxious around Yeonjun, and he tried not to look at the people they passed by. Some students gave him strange looks, almost judgmental, making him instinctively keep his eyes down until they reached Yeonjun's car.
"Get in," Yeonjun said simply.
Beomgyu hesitated but obeyed, settling into the front passenger seat. His heart was thudding in his chest. Why couldn't they just talk in his office? Why take him somewhere private? Something about this felt serious.
"I hope you're okay with this," Yeonjun said as he started the engine. "I'm sorry if it caught you off guard."
The drive was quiet—tense, even. Yeonjun made an effort to ease the mood by bringing up light topics, but the gap between them still felt like ten miles of invisible space. Beomgyu wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't know how to break that wall.
Yeonjun glanced over with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," Beomgyu murmured, barely above a whisper.
He turned back to the road, and Beomgyu studied him quietly. The way the sunlight poured across Yeonjun's face was almost surreal. There was something magnetic about him—his structure, his presence, his every feature. As Beomgyu gazed, he felt like he was being pulled into another dimension, one softer and more dreamlike than anything he'd known.
Why did Yeonjun seem so... enthralling?
His heart began to race again, faster than before, the way it did when he panicked—but this wasn't panic. This was something else. Something warm, dizzying, and oddly comforting.
Yeonjun glanced at him again, and Beomgyu snapped his eyes away, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Yeonjun chuckled quietly.
They soon arrived at a sleek, modern restaurant. Yeonjun parked, then led him inside with a casual grace. He guided Beomgyu to a small, private table near the window and took his seat across from him. A waiter handed them menus, and Beomgyu's eyes widened at the prices.
"Order whatever you want. My treat," Yeonjun said kindly.
He smiled and turned to the waiter. "We'll have Korean Fried Chicken Wings, a Classic Caesar Salad, and two Fudge Brownie Sundaes for dessert. Beomgyu?"
Beomgyu hesitated, uncertain. Everything was too expensive, too refined. It wasn't what he was used to. Finally, he quietly ordered the Pasta Napolitano, still feeling like a fish out of water.
The waiter asked for drinks, and Yeonjun replied, "Iced tea's fine."
As the waiter left, silence began to creep in again. Beomgyu fidgeted with his fingers. Yeonjun noticed immediately.
"Beomgyu, look at me. Just breathe, okay? You're safe. I'm here."
That gentle voice calmed him more than he expected. Beomgyu looked up and nodded, grateful.
"I-I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm just not used to places like this. I don't really like fancy restaurants… or being around too many people."
Yeonjun's brows lifted with concern. "Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere else. I should've asked before bringing you here."
Beomgyu shook his head quickly. "No, it's okay."
He reached for his wallet, offering his share for the food, but Yeonjun refused with a small smile.
"No need. I invited you."
Still, guilt simmered inside Beomgyu. He wasn't used to people treating him like this, and the generosity made him feel strange—like he didn't deserve it.
Another quiet moment passed before Beomgyu gathered the courage to speak.
"W-Why did you want to talk to me… privately, sir?"
Yeonjun leaned back, chuckling. "You don't have to call me 'Sir' here. Just Yeonjun is fine. We're not in class now."
Beomgyu blinked, unsure how to react, but nodded faintly. Yeonjun's expression shifted, becoming more serious, more sincere.
"I just wanted to know if you're really doing okay," Yeonjun said. "I… had a dream about you the other day. You looked so broken in it—like you couldn't take it anymore. I don't know why I dreamed that, but it's stayed with me. I've been worried. I just wanted to tell you that I'm here if you need someone to talk to."
The words hit Beomgyu hard.
He wasn't upset—just taken aback. No one had ever said anything like that to him. He'd spent so long carrying his pain in silence that someone noticing felt almost alien.
"I'm alright," he finally said. "Sometimes we go through hard things. It's not easy, but I think I'll manage."
Yeonjun didn't push. He simply nodded.
"I understand. And I'm not trying to force anything out of you. I just want you to know that you're not alone. You don't have to carry it all by yourself."
Beomgyu lowered his gaze, the words swirling in his head. He was used to solitude—used to hiding everything. Trust didn't come easily.
He met Yeonjun's eyes again. "Why are you being so kind to me? We barely know each other. Being too trusting… it doesn't always help."
Yeonjun exhaled gently and reached across the table, placing a warm hand over Beomgyu's. Beomgyu flinched, startled by the touch, but didn't pull away. Yeonjun's hand was soft and warm—unexpectedly soothing.
"Because I want to," Yeonjun said. "Not because I'm your teacher. Not because I have to. Just… because I care. You're special, Beomgyu. And I can feel it—something inside you is struggling, even if you say you're fine. Let me be someone you can lean on. You don't have to face everything alone."
Beomgyu stared at him, stunned.
"Why?" he whispered. "Why are you willing to go this far?"
"I don't know," Yeonjun admitted, smiling faintly. "I just feel like I need to. Maybe, in helping you, things will get lighter for you. Maybe I'll get to see you smile for real. You deserve to be happy."
The sincerity in his voice was overwhelming. Beomgyu's heart fluttered in his chest, his cheeks growing warm. He had no words. He simply sat there, lost in Yeonjun's kindness, in the inexplicable pull between them.
Then, the waiter returned with their food, breaking the moment.
"Enjoy your meals," he said with a nod before leaving.
Yeonjun grinned. "Let's eat."
He picked up a chicken wing and took a bite, and Beomgyu just watched him for a moment, zoning out. How could someone look so calm and beautiful while eating chicken wings?
"Why aren't you eating?" Yeonjun asked.
Beomgyu snapped out of his daze, flustered. "I-I am!"
He quickly dug into his pasta, while Yeonjun laughed lightly. Still, Beomgyu couldn't help but steal glances. The food was delicious—but somehow, Yeonjun's presence was sweeter, warmer, and far more captivating.
Was he… enchanted?
+×+
Nearly an hour had passed since Beomgyu and Yeonjun finished their meal. To his quiet surprise, Beomgyu found himself enjoying the evening. It was… different. In a good way. Something about moments like these—ones filled with real conversation, meaningful connection, and an unexpected sense of comfort—stirred something inside him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he was getting closer to something he had long yearned for. A glimpse of belonging. A whisper of freedom.
"Was it good? Did you enjoy the meal?" Yeonjun asked with a soft smile.
"Y-Yeah. It was good. T-Thank you, Y-Yeonjun," Beomgyu replied shyly, glancing down at the table.
Yeonjun was visibly relieved to see him enjoy it and gently reminded him not to overthink or pressure himself. Time slipped away from them, unnoticed, until Beomgyu checked his phone and froze.
It was past 6:00 p.m.
One message stared back at him with a chilling weight:
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
His heart sank.
He had forgotten his curfew.
Without hesitation, he stood up in a panic. Yeonjun noticed the shift immediately.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"I-I need to go home. It's getting late," Beomgyu said quickly, trying to sound composed, but the trembling in his voice betrayed him.
"I'll drive you," Yeonjun offered immediately, already rising to his feet.
Neither of them spoke as they got into the car. The silence on the road was thick with tension. Beomgyu began to whimper, overwhelmed by the fear of what awaited him at home. Yeonjun stole a few worried glances at him but respected his silence for a moment longer.
Eventually, he broke it.
"Gyu, I know something's wrong. What happened?"
"N-Nothing… J-Just please drive faster," Beomgyu mumbled.
"The moment you checked your phone, you freaked out. Your parents… are they strict? Do you have a curfew?"
Beomgyu didn't answer.
That silence told Yeonjun everything.
"Are they giving you a hard time? I can talk to them if you wa—"
"No! Don't!" Beomgyu snapped, his voice sharp, louder than he meant.
Yeonjun's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden outburst. Beomgyu regretted it immediately, shrinking in his seat.
"I see," Yeonjun said softly, letting the matter rest—for now.
The drive continued in silence, weighted and fragile, until they pulled up in front of Beomgyu's house. He hesitated, his fingers trembling as he reached for the door handle. Just as he was about to thank Yeonjun and slip away, the teacher stepped out of the car too.
Confused, Beomgyu watched as Yeonjun walked toward the front door.
"Yeonjun, wait!" he cried out in panic, rushing after him.
But it was too late.
Yeonjun had already knocked.
The door opened a moment later, revealing Beomgyu's mother, her expression cold and severe. The moment her eyes landed on her son, fury lit up in her face.
"Where have you been, huh?! Didn't I tell you to be home before 5:00 p.m.?!" she snapped.
Beomgyu opened his mouth to apologize, but Yeonjun stepped forward.
"Good evening, ma'am. I apologize for the delay. I'm Choi Yeonjun, Beomgyu's teacher," he said calmly. "I asked him to join me for dinner so we could discuss some school-related matters. Please don't worry—there's no problem at all. In fact, your son is doing remarkably well. The other teachers are impressed by his creativity and intelligence. He's a brilliant student, and I truly enjoy having him in my class."
Beomgyu blinked, stunned.
Yeonjun continued effortlessly, "If it's alright with you, I'd like to spend time with him occasionally outside school. It's part of an informal mentoring program we're running—teachers connecting with students to help assess their academic progress and emotional well-being. Sometimes that means they'll come home a little late. I promise I'll look after him."
Beomgyu stared in disbelief. None of this had ever been mentioned in school. Was Yeonjun lying? Or improvising for his sake?
His mother raised an eyebrow. "How come I didn't know about this? Is this true, Beomgyu?"
Caught in the spotlight, Beomgyu hesitated—until Yeonjun shot him a subtle glance, signaling him to go along with it.
"Y-Yes, mom," he said nervously. "It's new. I'm doing what I need to—for the sake of my grades."
"Yes," Yeonjun added smoothly. "It impacts their academic marks. These sessions give them extra credit if they participate and reflect improvement."
His mother's expression softened slightly. After a long pause, she gave a reluctant nod.
"Fine. I'll trust you, Mr. Choi. If Beomgyu ever misbehaves or falls behind, let me know immediately. I expect nothing but excellence from him. Beomgyu, say goodbye and get inside—it's late."
With that, she disappeared into the house, leaving the two of them outside in stunned silence.
Beomgyu turned to Yeonjun with wide, confused eyes. "What was that? Did you just… make all that up?"
Yeonjun smirked. "Let's just say it was a white lie."
He began walking toward his car, but Beomgyu chased after him, full of questions.
"I can't believe you did that," he said, still breathless. "What if she finds out? You could get in serious trouble."
Yeonjun turned back to face him, completely unfazed. "It'll be our little secret. Besides, I wasn't lying about wanting to spend time with you. That part's true. So don't worry. I promise—things will get better, as long as I'm around."
Then he chuckled, effortlessly amused.
Beomgyu could only stand there, watching as Yeonjun got into his car. The world around him felt too fast, too strange to keep up with—but the fear he felt earlier had dulled, replaced by something... different. Warmth. Gratitude. A strange, fluttering calm.
Yeonjun rolled down his window. "Well, I had fun today. I'll see you at school, alright? Goodnight, Gyu."
"T-Thank you, Yeonjun! G-Goodnight, too!" Beomgyu called back.
Yeonjun gave him one final, heart-melting smile before driving off.
Beomgyu watched until the car disappeared from view, not realizing he was smiling faintly to himself. Somehow, despite everything, the day had ended beautifully.
When he entered the house, his mother was seated in the living room, arms crossed.
"How are things at school?" she asked, her tone sharp as ever.
Beomgyu responded carefully, "Everything's fine."
Then, curious, he added, "H-How was your day, Mom? You've been coming home early lately."
She scoffed. "I've had some appointments to attend. And I'll be informing your father about this teacher program, so he knows what's going on. You better perform well. Greatness runs in this family. Don't let us down."
Beomgyu nodded without a word. There was no point in arguing—not with her, not in this house. Instead, he excused himself and went straight to his room.
The moment his door closed, the suffocating pressure lifted. He thought about Yeonjun again. That kind, patient smile. The way he shielded him, covered for him, and said things no one else ever had.
It was unclear what any of it meant yet. But thinking about Yeonjun made the noise fade away.
And for that, Beomgyu felt… blessed.
Even if he didn't fully understand why.