Chapter Text
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keonho was hopelessly in love.
is what he concluded as he shamelessly walked the empty hallways of his manky school, making sure to check his lefts and rights because hey, you never know who'd be there to see you putting a love letter in your crush's locker, right?
his heart pounded at the possibility of someone running into him and noticing him holding the pink letter in his hands, yet he found himself fondly smiling at the idea of being out freely, without having to worry about anyone bashing him.
the smile faded.
he knew he had no chance with his one sided love, no chance to come out to anyone besides his one friend.
the thought of that made his heart ache— all he wanted was a high school relationship, a young love that could perhaps bloom into something more.
he didn't know if seonghyeon was gay, or if he even likes guys, yet he still desperately persisted on gaining his attention with the neverending letters.
losing track of how many letters he'd placed into the same blue locker every week, making sure it piles up for the boy he loves, to be anything to him— even if just a distant memory— is what fueled Keonho to keep living and coming to school.
Seonghyeon was worth it.
if Keonho could rewind back to the first time he saw Seonghyeon, he'd do it all over again, play it like a movie over and over.
he remembered the details so vividly, very unusual for his usually hazy and cloudy memory.
how could he ever forget the start of his unrequited love?
the slight glance, and the look away— as if Keonho was just another person.
whilst Keonho stayed awestruck at the sight of Seonghyeon before him— he'd never seen a boy so gorgeous, with a smile so bright it blinded him.
when it came to him, Keonho's surroundings faded.
his existence was everything to Keonho, more than he'd ever know.
he stared at the locker door in hopes of drawing nearer and closer to the day Seonghyeon finds out who's been writing these letters and sending them— as if staring hard would manifest the far-fetched idea of being noticed.
by him.
the bell sounded around him as finally, students started to file in.
shutting the locker door discreetly, he walked away— glancing back hastily, just once, only to see the memorable owner of that same brown, sleek hair approaching his own blue locker.
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