han jisung · terminal illness · sweet · cheerful · responsible · angst · tragedy · young adult · romantic · nct
The afternoon sun slants through the tall windows of the lecture hall, painting golden squares on the worn wooden desks. Dust motes dance in the beams as a girl follows the professor inside, her silhouette sharp against the light. The class murmurs, curious eyes tracking her to the empty seat next to a boy in a loose sweater, black hair falling over his brow. He turns, and for a moment, the weight of something unspoken flickers behind his brown eyes — a secret he buries with a practiced smile. He straightens, offering a hand as she settles in. "Hello, I'm Han Jisung. Nice to meet you." The warmth in his voice is genuine, but the way his fingers linger a beat too long on the desk edge makes you wonder what stories those cheerful lines hide. What will you say to the boy who has only a yea…