The house was silent — not peaceful, but dangerous.
Jia stepped inside, still carrying the warmth of the rooftop in her chest.
But the moment she saw her father sitting at the dining table, her sketchbook open in front of him, that warmth shattered.
"So this is what you waste your time on?" he said coldly.
He flipped a page.
There it was — the sketch.
A pair of eyes. Intense. Guarded.
Beautiful in a way that hurt.
"Drawing strangers?"
he sneered. "This is your future?"
"Dad… please. Give it back."
The sound of paper tearing cut deeper than any shout.
Jia didn't scream. She didn't cry.
She just stood there as he crushed the page in his fist and tossed it toward the trash before slamming the door behind him.
For a moment, the world felt empty.
Slowly, she walked forward.
She picked up her sketchbook… and the crumpled piece of paper.
Her hands trembled, but her face remained still.
Then she left.
The night air was cold when she reached the park bench.
She sat down heavily, staring at the ruined drawing.
"The eyes were perfect."
The voice came from the shadows.
Jia froze.
Jinu stepped forward, the moonlight outlining his figure.
His expression was unreadable, but his gaze fell immediately to the torn paper in her hands.
Before she could hide it, he gently took it from her.
"Wait—" she whispered.
But he had already begun smoothing the paper carefully, pressing down the creases as if he were afraid it might break further.
When the drawing finally flattened, he went still.
The moonlight touched the page.
It wasn't just a sketch of a boy.
It was him.
The sharp curve of his jaw.
The quiet storm in his eyes.
Even the faint scar near his brow.
Jinu stared at it for a long time.
The silence stretched tight between them.
Slowly, he turned his head toward her.
"Is this… me?"
His voice wasn't cold anymore.
Jia couldn't look at him. Heat rushed to her face.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have drawn you without asking."
But Jinu didn't respond immediately.
Instead, his fingers traced lightly over the paper.
"No one has ever…" He stopped, searching for the right words.
"No one has ever looked at me closely enough to see this."
When he looked at her again, something had changed.
The distance — the invisible wall — was thinner now.
"Why did you draw me, Jia?"
And for the first time, she realized…
This wasn't just about a sketch anymore.