A height of 5'11, large expressive eyes with one single eyelid and the other with double eyelids. A captivating angular face with sharp strong jaw, full lips and a perfect muscular body.

Kim Taehyung

He looked like trouble in a hoodie.

Tall, annoyingly confident, with messy hair that begged to be tugged and eyes that didn’t ask — they dared.

Tattooed forearms, veins that peeked whenever he leaned back in that cocky, relaxed way — like he was always a little bored… unless she was around.

She never called me Taehyung.

Not once.

Always Kim.

Flat. Icy. Like I wasn’t worth the extra syllables.

It shouldn't have bothered me.

But it did.

Because when she says Kim, it sounds like an insult dressed as respect.

Like she knows exactly how to get under my skin… and likes it.

And the worst part?

I let her.

Every damn time.

---

She stood at 5'3", but walked like the ground owed her something.

Sharp-lined eyes, dark cherry lips, and a gaze that didn’t flinch — even when he leaned in close.

Her hair was always perfectly imperfect — half up, strands falling like they belonged there, hips swaying, chin tilted, eyes locked on a destination only she knew. Her lips? Softly tinted, perfectly curved, and almost always curled into a smirk that dared anyone to speak first.

He calls me **Trouble** like it was cute.

Like I was a game he couldn’t wait to lose.

I smirked, rolled my eyes—

But the way my pulse jumped?

Yeah, that was the real problem.

He has no idea.

I’m not Trouble.

I’m the whole damn storm.

---

But People noticed.

They fought like they were already in love.

Looked at each other like enemies do—when they know they’ve already lost.

They weren’t meant to fall.

They were meant to clash, to burn, to break rules.

But beneath her calm exterior and cutting lines, there was something more.

Something she never talked about.

She didn’t come from laughter or lullabies.

No one visited on holidays.

No parents' names on forms. No family pictures in her dorm.

There were whispers—

That she was left.

Forgotten.

Thrown away like she didn’t matter.

She never explained.

Never denied it.

But sometimes…

when no one was watching,

her smile would fade.

Her voice would soften.

And the girl who looked untouchable?

She didn’t try to fit in.

Didn’t try to impress.

While everyone else moved in packs, she stood alone —

like she preferred it that way.

To most, she was distant.

Too quiet. Too cold.

But to him… she was a challenge.

Not because she was hard to get, but because she wasn’t trying to be gotten.

And maybe that’s what pulled him in.

He noticed things others ignored—

How she always sat facing the exit.

How her phone never rang.

How she looked away when people hugged their parents after breaks.

She never mentioned a mother.

Never called a father.

Her life before college?

A locked drawer.

No one had the key.

Maybe not even her.

And the more he watched, the more he realized:

She didn’t just push people away.

She didn’t believe they’d stay.

Not after the ones who should’ve stayed the longest… didn’t.

Suddenly seemed like a storm still waiting to break.

---

She crashed into the classroom, hair wild, bag slipping off her shoulder. And He? He was staring at door like he was waiting for her to come. That wasn't enough for them to fight over bout it and Of course, the only empty seat was next to him.

He leaned back, grinning like the devil.

“Late, loud, and lost. You must be Trouble.”

“And you must be Kim,” she said, sliding in beside him. “Still full of yourself, I see.”

That’s when two people chuckled behind them — Jungkook and Jay, their best friends and the couple who had dragged them both into this class in the first place.

Jay rested her chin on Jungkook’s shoulder and grinned. “I told you putting them in the same class would be entertaining.”

Jungkook snorted. “They haven’t even lasted one minute without biting each other’s heads off. That’s a record.”

“Think we should separate them?” Jay asked playfully.

“Nah,” Jungkook said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let the chaos begin.”

Yn rolled her eyes. “Glad our relationship is your reality show.”

Taehyung smirked. “Careful, Trouble. You’re sounding jealous.”

She didn’t respond, but the way her pen pressed harder into the page said everything.

(Scene continues after classroom banter)

The bell rang, snapping the tension like a rubber band.

Yn stood up quickly, shoving her notebook into her bag. She didn’t spare Taehyung a glance. Not even when he said, under his breath, “Run along now, Trouble.”

She didn’t answer — didn’t need to.

The hallway was buzzing with students, laughter, shoes squeaking across the polished floor. But her world felt quieter. Muted. She slipped away from the crowd and headed toward the back stairwell — the one people rarely used.

Only when she reached the landing did she pull out her phone.

One missed call.

Unknown Number.

No message. Just silence staring back at her.

She sighed and leaned against the wall, thumb hovering over the screen.

The number was familiar. Not saved, but familiar — like an echo from another life.

She pressed delete without thinking.

Her fingers shook slightly as she lowered the phone. The moment she let her guard drop, footsteps echoed behind her.

She turned — and there he was.

Taehyung.

He froze too, clearly not expecting her there.

"Following me now?" she asked, voice cool, but weaker than usual.

He tilted his head. “Didn’t realize you were such a drama queen when no one’s watching.”

Yn rolled her eyes and turned away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Taehyung paused. For a second, he looked like he might ask something real. But then he shrugged.

“You’re right,” he said casually. “I don’t understand people who delete calls like they’re running from ghosts.”

Her jaw clenched. “Stay out of my business, Kim.”

“You make it hard when you act like a walking mystery novel.”

“Then don’t read me,” she snapped, already walking down the stairs.

He watched her go, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

Then, almost to himself, he muttered:

“Too late, Trouble.”

---