🅷🅸

Aamari Fani wanted to vanish. After losing her best friend, she didn't want to start over. She wanted out. From people, from questions, from herself.

So she went somewhere no-one she knew would be, and teaching was just a way to keep busy. Living was just a technicality.

Then Kim Min-Jun came along, annoyingly kind, younger, with tattoos, dimples that shows up uninvited and a habit of drawing things no one else notices. Including her.

He didn't chase. Not exactly. He just showed up. Every day. With flowers. With food. With a quiet kind of presence she didn't want and didn't know how to say no to.

Until she needed it.

When her safety is compromised and the system shrugs its shoulders, Min-Jun doesn't. He gives her a place to stay, a toothbrush slot, and slowly, without asking, his heart.

But love is inconvenient. And timing is awful.

One misunderstanding, and she runs again. To the only thing she's good at: leaving.

But she forgets Min-Jun's not the kind of person who lets go easily.

This isn't a story about perfect love. It's about fear, softness, quiet breakdowns, and trying to stay when every part of you wants to disappear.