Psycho Professor | HeeHoon

Silence

The lecture hall buzzed with quiet conversations. A mix of hushed laughter and tired sighs as students waited for class to begin. Heeseung sat in his usual seat. His fingers curled loosely around his pen, staring blankly at the notes in front of him. His friends Sunoo and Jungwon were chatting beside him. Their words blurring together in the background.

“You know, for a professor, he’s unrealistically handsome,” Sunoo murmured, tapping his pen against his notebook. “It’s kind of unfair.”

Jungwon scoffed. “Handsome? More like terrifying.”

Heeseung forced a chuckle, pretending to focus on the scribbles in his notebook. His grip on the pen tightened.

He shouldn’t care. He really shouldn’t.

But the moment the lecture hall door clicked shut, an eerie silence swallowed the room. The atmosphere shifted instantly, every student straightening in their seats as an unspoken tension settled over them.

Park Sunghoon had arrived.

Heeseung kept his head down. His heartbeat unsteady. The sound of Sunghoon’s footsteps echoed across the floor, slow and deliberate, before stopping at the front of the room. He placed his leather briefcase on the desk. His movements controlled and precise. Not a single student dared to speak.

“Open your textbooks,” Sunghoon said, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

There was no hesitation. The sound of pages flipping filled the room. A stark contrast to the stillness just seconds ago.

Heeseung swallowed. His fingers trembling slightly as he turned the page. He could feel it again, the weight of something unexplainable pressing against him.

He told himself it was nothing.

Just admiration.

Just intimidation.

But when he dared to glance up. His breath hitched.

Sunghoon’s eyes were already on him.

It was only for a second. Barely even a moment. But the way those dark eyes lingered made something cold creep up Heeseung’s spine.

He quickly looked away. His pulse hammering in his ears.

It was nothing.

Just his imagination.

Right?

The air in the lecture hall remained heavy, even as Sunghoon continued his lesson. His voice was smooth, unwavering, commanding attention without effort. Every word he spoke held weight, leaving no room for distractions.

At least, not for anyone else.

Heeseung’s fingers twitched against his notebook. He had tried, really tried to focus. But the way Sunghoon’s gaze had lingered earlier refused to leave his mind.

It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

“Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s breath caught in his throat.

Slowly, he lifted his head.

Sunghoon was watching him. Unlike before. This time his expression was unreadable, sharp and calculating. His eyes held something beneath the surface, something cold and assessing, like he was peeling away layers Heeseung hadn’t even realized he had.

“Did you not hear me?” Sunghoon asked. His tone neutral. But the weight behind it made Heeseung’s stomach twist.

“I..” Heeseung’s throat was dry. He scrambled to glance at his textbook, but his mind was blank. “I’m sorry, Professor.”