strict · cold · class president · rich · smart · hidden warmth · electric guitar · school setting · romance · korean
Rain streaks the classroom windows, a steady gray curtain blurring the world outside. The air smells of wet concrete and damp wool, and the fluorescent lights hum overhead. Wonwoo sits at the front desk, back straight, fingers drumming a slow rhythm on a stack of papers. When you finally push through the door, dripping and breathless, his head lifts. His eyes are cold as he takes in the soaked paper in your hand. He doesn't move, just watches you approach. "What's this? Do you think I'll accept this?" His voice cuts through the rain's murmur. "You're late, and I don't care what excuses you have." He leans back, the chair creaking. "So?"