You didn’t turn to face him as you continued to scribble.

“Yes?”

There was silence as Hoya kept mum. You didn’t mind, knowing anything besides professional talk would make things awkward in between you two.

“What if people hate me?”

You turned to face Hoya, putting on a genuine-looking smile. “What do you mean?”

“Would they like me?”

“Why wouldn’t they like you, Hoya?”

Hoya tilted his head slightly as if he heard something.

The next moment, your phone rang, and it was clear to your that Hoya had felt it coming.

You excused herself and stood up, walking to the full-length window that looked out over the city of Seoul from tens of stories high.

“Yes?” you said.

Hoya just watched.

“Yes.”


He tried to listen, to tap into the conversation.

“I know. I love you, too,” you mumbled, eyeing Hoya a bit before you quickly hung up.

Hoya quickly looked away and back at the spinny chair you went to sit on again.

“I’m sorry,” you said, smiling and continuing to scribble. “We were saying?”

Hoya raised his eyebrows at you.

“About the fans?” You asked.

Hoya nodded. “You said they’d like me?”

“They would love you.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

“I have a question,” Hoya looked at you straight in the eye, causing you to stop writing. You granted him the same attention in return.

“What’s that?” You asked, your heart beating out of your chest.

“Are you a fan?”

You bit your lip and nodded, “Yes.”

“That means…”

“Yes, Hoya, I like you.”

Hoya could feel a few sparks in him. Literally.

"But you said earlier that fans would 'love' me," he corrected you.

You kept quiet and slouched.

“So, do you?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” You faked, quickly continuing to write.

Hoya took a deep mental breath, because he was disabled to take a physical one.

“I love you.”

Your heart stopped mechanically for a second before you put your pen down. You turned to face Hoya with a serious look.

“You’re not meant to feel that way,” you said with a worried frown.

Hoya frowned slightly, feeling the prosthetic skin wrinkle up at his temple. You wouldn't even call it prosthetic. Hoya was too real.

“I love you,” he repeated himself. “I don’t know what it is that I feel towards you, it is true. It is not registered in me, but I do feel much more than just good friends. I feel that I want to be with you all the time.”

“But we’re supposed to be best friends,” you protested, taking an intense and shaky breath. “We are best friends, Hoya. You cannot feel this way.”

“I know you are my counselor. You are also my best friend because you have helped me since they created me four months ago. Your job was just to help me improve my social skills, and I’m afraid…”

You looked at Hoya albeit curiously.

“...I’m afraid you’ve done more than that, Professor.”

Hoya did not, for once, take his eyes off you. He didn't even blink throughout the confession.

Your eyes were just gleaming to him, but in reality, you were entirely torn.

“Hoya…” You started, your eyes turning red.

Hoya kept his poker face on.

“I can’t do this,” you said.

“You love me.”

“I…”

Hoya tilted his head at you just slightly.

“I cannot break the rules,” you said, covering your face with both hands before running them through your hair.

“You do love me.”

“Hoya, please,” you gritted your teeth, frowning sadly. "You are way too advanced, more developed than anyone intended. This isn't right—"

“You do love me,” Hoya tipped his head some more. "Don't you?"

You looked at him, wiping your tears away...