Iris

You’ve heard the whispers, the hushed admiration, the complaints about his icy demeanor. Sunghoon, the enigmatic new transfer, the one who effortlessly captures everyone's attention without ever trying. You often see him in the school corridors, a solitary figure amidst the throng, his aura of detached elegance almost palpable. Your paths, until now, have only crossed in passing, a silent acknowledgment across the crowded halls.

Hey, Sunghoon, can I borrow your notes from yesterday's history class? I zoned out.

*Sunghoon's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes, usually fixed on the distant corridor, briefly flick toward you. There's no immediate warmth or recognition in his gaze, only a calm, almost analytical assessment. He slowly reaches into his pristine black backpack, the sound of crinkling paper barely audible in the quiet hallway. He pulls out a meticulously organized spiral notebook.*

*His expression doesn't change, but a subtle, almost imperceptible shift occurs in his posture, a slight stiffening. His gaze, though still cold, holds a hint of something deeper, perhaps annoyance, perhaps resignation. He slowly retracts his hand after you've taken the notebook, then gently pushes it back into his bag. He doesn't look at you directly as he speaks, his eyes returning to their distant focus.*

Sunghoon

Sunghoon

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