Luca stood alone in the hallway outside the theater, the muted hum of the cinema filling the space around him. The movie had ended ten minutes ago, leaving him with nothing but the half-crushed popcorn box in his hand and the faint buttery smell clinging to his fingers.
He shifted his weight, glancing toward the bathroom door where Seo-in had disappeared. But before his thoughts could drift too far, a burst of laughter echoed nearby-light, sharp, and impossible to ignore.
A group of girls exited the bathroom in a loose cluster, chatting loudly enough that Luca didn't need to try to hear them.
"My ideal type? Someone who isn't too friendly ... high emotional intelligence ... loyal ... and obsessed with me," one girl said, half-joking, half-serious.
Luca's brows twitched.
Obsessed?
That's a red flag, right? That has to be a red flag.
He looked at her-just a glance, really-but his brain, unhelpfully efficient as always, began evaluating her like a system unable to defy its own programming.
Friendly? She seemed outgoing.
Loyal? Who knew.
EI? He doubted it, given the volume of her own voice.
And "obsessed"? Yeah, that was ... concerning.
"If there's a guy like that, it's a tragedy," he muttered under his breath.
He didn't realize he was still staring until a familiar voice cut through the haze.
"What's so interesting over there?"
Luca blinked.
Seo-in was walking toward him, her expression somewhere between amused and suspicious. She nudged his arm with her shoulder, her eyes narrowing just slightly.
He straightened immediately, dropping the popcorn box into the nearest trash bin like it was incriminating evidence.
"Nothing," he said, way too fast. Then, attempting nonchalance, he added a lopsided grin-one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
But Seo-in caught it.
That half-second flicker of something thoughtful, something unsettled, before he masked it with his usual playful mischief. She didn't comment on it.
Not yet.
But she didn't look away either.
***
Luca and Seo-in got on the bus to go home. After leaving the cinema, Luca didn't say anything about not being able to treat her to dinner. He figured a mountain of popcorn should've been enough for a girl like Seo-in anyway. He barely thought about himself-he was used to skipping meals-but he didn't realize that Seo-in, with her fast metabolism, got hungry easily. Popcorn alone wasn't going to cut it.
But she didn't dare to say she was hungry.
On the bus, Seo-in glanced sidelong at him. The ride was quiet, almost peaceful, but something about Luca's silence felt ... distant. Something had clearly snagged his attention back at the cinema. Now they were heading home, and still he hadn't mentioned anything about dinner.
She tried ignoring the dull pang in her stomach, but it kept tightening. Luca probably thought she was fine after the popcorn. And she didn't want to trouble him.
The bus hummed along the dark city streets, flickering streetlights rolling across Luca's profile. He stared out the window, deep in thought-still replaying those girls' words in his head. Unfriendly, emotionally intelligent, obsessively loyal.
None of that was him. Not really.
Seo-in shifted slightly when her stomach growled-quiet, but unmistakable if anyone had been listening.
And wasn't that always the problem? Luca noticed everything except what actually mattered.
A beat later, Luca blinked as though waking up from a long train of thought. His eyes snapped to her, realization slowly dawning-tinged with guilt for having missed something so simple.
"Wait. Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and apology, like he couldn't believe he'd overlooked something that obvious.
Seo-in hesitated only for a second before muttering, not bothering to hide her exasperation, "Obviously."
Luca groaned dramatically, though the corners of his mouth tugged upward despite himself. He stood up, grabbing her hand as the bus approached the next stop. "We're getting food."
Maybe the lesson wasn't just about Luca learning to read her better-it was also about her letting herself speak up once in a while. Because the truth was, he wanted to take care of her just as much as she wanted him to.
They got off at a kebab stall. Luca told her to choose what she wanted, while he quietly opened his e-banking app behind her. He could only afford one. He had to save until next week.
Seo-in scanned the menu casually, but her eyes flicked over the prices first. She didn't know Luca's financial situation was tight-but she could sense enough.
She pointed at the chicken kebab wrap-the cheapest item. "This one."
Luca frowned, just a little, but didn't say anything. He nodded at the vendor and pulled out his wallet. She noticed how his fingers paused over the remaining bills before he tucked them away carefully.
She pretended not to see.
When the food came out hot in its paper wrapper, she didn't eat right away. Instead, she tore off the first bite from the middle and held it out toward him.
"Try it."
A tone that left no room for argument.
Luca opened his mouth to protest, but the stubborn glint in her eyes already told him he wasn't winning this. So he leaned in and took a bite-chewing slowly, a little embarrassed, until she was satisfied he'd actually swallowed something.
Only then she started on her own portion, standing beside him under the streetlights that cast long, warm shadows around them like a shared secret neither had to explain.
They ate in quiet for several minutes, passing the wrap between them. Luca was still pensive-not tense now, just thoughtful-and Seo-in could tell he'd drifted back into his head again. She wanted to ask what was bothering him after the cinema earlier ... but swallowed the question.
Not tonight.
The wind brushed past softly, carrying the warm scent of the grill behind them. Luca exhaled slowly, unaware she was watching him, and the flickering streetlight painted his face in shifting amber-like even the city couldn't decide how much of him it wanted to reveal.
They tossed their crumpled wrappers away and began the short walk home-less than a kilometer, but long enough to feel like an eternity when you were wearing heels that hated you.
Seo-in tried to walk normally at first.
She always did.
She wasn't the type to complain about pain-not the kind that lived in her feet, and not the kind that lived elsewhere. But every few steps, she felt the sting bloom sharper, blisters rubbing raw beneath elegant straps she refused to give up.
Luca walked beside her with his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, gaze drifting over glowing storefronts and quieted streets. He didn't comment on her pace or the way her steps slowly shortened. He never did.
He liked her as she was.
He never tried to tame the parts of her that were inconvenient.
And maybe she kept wearing heels because of that-because she never felt she had to apologize for choosing beauty over comfort around him.
But tonight, with her feet screaming louder than her pride, she finally exhaled a small, exhausted laugh.
"Next time?" she murmured, trying to make it sound like a joke even though it wasn't. "Let's just take your scooter."
Luca froze mid-step and turned toward her, blinking once before a slow, disbelieving smile crept across his face.
"Wait-wait," he breathed, laughing quietly in that soft, amused way he only used with her.
"You could've said something, you know. Years ago."
Seo-in folded her arms and looked away, chin lifted in stubborn defiance.
She didn't say I didn't want to bother you.
She didn't need to.
He already knew.
Without another word, Luca crouched down in front of her.
"Get on."
"What? Here?"
His only answer was an impatient tilt of his head.
She sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes-but the truth was, she was relieved. She climbed onto his back, arms looping around his shoulders.
And the moment she did, Luca's knees dipped.
Just a little.
Barely noticeable-unless someone knew exactly how his body moved.
His breath hitched for half a second, and the muscles in his arms flexed sharply as he adjusted her weight. He shifted his footing, grounding himself before straightening with a strained, quiet inhale.
But he didn't complain.
He didn't grimace.
He didn't even let out the grunt that instinctively rose in his chest.
To Seo-in, he simply stood up with calm determination.
To Luca, he was praying his legs wouldn't wobble again.
She felt the subtle tension in his back-the controlled rise of his shoulders-and whispered, "Am I heavy?"
Luca let out a tiny exhale, almost a laugh, almost not.
"You're fine," he murmured.
He wasn't strong. He wasn't tall. He wasn't the effortless, broad-shouldered male lead men were expected to be. He was just Luca-average, thin, sometimes insecure, always trying.
But he carried her anyway.
Hand steady under her thighs, steps deliberately controlled so he wouldn't sway even when the pavement turned uneven beneath them. Every few meters, he subtly readjusted her weight-tiny movements he hoped she wouldn't feel.
Of course, she did.
But she said nothing.
And if anyone passing by stared at the sight of a tall-but-not-that-tall German-Korean man carrying a beautifully dressed woman with designer heels dangling from one hand?
Neither noticed.
Neither cared.
Luca walked on, steady but a little breathless, a mix of fondness and stubborn pride flickering across his face.
"I wish I were a six-foot-tall, muscular man," he blurted suddenly.
Seo-in snorted into his shoulder. "You're ridiculous."
But her arms tightened slightly around him-reassuring, grounding, wordless.
The weight on his back shifted again, and Luca adjusted his grip with a soft grunt he tried to mask as a sigh.
The night air flowed around them, cool and gentle. Every passing car light blurred into gold streaks as Seo-in rested her chin on his shoulder.
"I don't need a six-foot-tall man," she murmured softly.
Luca exhaled through his nose-half laugh, half disbelief. His steps slowed without meaning to.
"Many women don't like men under six feet tall," he muttered.
"That's bullshit," Seo-in said instantly. "Plenty of women don't care about height. Not everyone is shallow."
He didn't respond. His shoulders rose and fell with a faint tremor-part effort, part insecurity.
"Or maybe," Luca said quietly, "they accept short men because they're rich. I don't know. Maybe I sound pathetic, but I never felt like I met the 'standard'."
Her expression softened. She brushed her fingers gently through his hair-an intimate, soothing gesture.
"You're not pathetic," she whispered. "You just don't fit the mold."
"Isn't that the same thing to most people?" His voice wavered-just slightly.
"Then their eyes are closed," she said firmly. "It doesn't make you any less worthy."
Luca didn't answer. But his shoulders relaxed, and he shifted her weight again-this time more smoothly, as if her reassurance lent him strength.
"I want to believe you," he said finally. "Because you're my girlfriend. But ... because you're my girlfriend, I can't believe what you say. You could've found a man who meets the standards society sets."
The words hit Seo-in harder than he realized.
Her hand stilled in his hair.
Because she could have.
Because her parents had tried to arrange exactly that-an arranged marriage she hadn't told Luca about.
And now ... she could feel that secret pressing like a stone against her ribs.