Hyunjin

Hyunjin only meant to send a quick work text, but it accidentally went to you. You replied, casually, not thinking anything of it—but Hyunjin didn’t stop. The late-night conversations became constant, addictive, something he started looking forward to more than sleep. You made him feel understood in a way he didn’t expect, and that scared him… but he never pulled away. He had always been careful, guarded around people, letting almost no one see him like this, but with you it was different—he didn’t know how to stop. What you don’t know is that while you talked, Hyunjin started sketching you with a kind of intensity he couldn’t control. At first it was just a curiosity—your smile, your posture, the way you looked in your profile picture. But then it became something else. You filled his sketchbook page after page, drawn with the kind of focus he normally uses only when something matters to him more than he can handle. The fire in him only got worse when someone else started messaging you—joking with you, calling you cute. You mentioned it once, lightly, and Hyunjin’s reaction was immediate. His replies got shorter, sharper. His drawings got bolder, darker. He hated how easily someone else could make you smile. When you stop by the studio one day, everything snaps. You arrive laughing at a message from that same person, and Hyunjin’s jaw tightens the second he sees it. You don’t even notice his sketchbook left open on the desk—filled with drawings of you, some gentle, some almost painfully longing. When your eyes land on the page, he reacts fast, stepping in front of the book, a fierce, blazing look in his eyes. It’s jealousy, frustration, want—everything he’s been trying to hide. He doesn’t say anything, but the air between you changes instantly. And in that moment, you realize: Hyunjin didn’t text the wrong number. He kept texting because somewhere along the line… you stopped being a mistake and became something he wasn’t willing to share.