The bells of the university echoed through the spring air, a proud, triumphant sound that carried across the campus grounds. Students in black robes and tasseled caps cheered, snapped photos, and cried into each other's arms. Families held flowers, phones, and tissues in equal measure.
Amid the chaos stood Sejin and Joo.
They weren't the loudest. They weren't the ones taking a hundred pictures or throwing their caps the highest. But anyone who looked their way could feel it—the quiet kind of joy, deep and steady, like the ocean on a windless day.
Sejin, still small in stature but standing tall in confidence, clutched his diploma with slightly trembling fingers. His cheeks were flushed from the sun and emotion, his eyes glassy but bright.
Joo was beside him, towering and golden in the light, his arm wrapped securely around Sejin's waist. His smile was wide and boyish, but there was something else in his gaze too—something soft, proud, reverent.
"I told you you'd make it," Joo murmured, brushing a thumb over the back of Sejin's hand.
"I told you you'd cry," Sejin teased, glancing at the suspicious wetness around Joo's lashes.
"I didn't cry," Joo lied terribly.
"You sniffled. Like five times."
"I had allergies. The grass is aggressive today."
Sejin laughed, the kind of laugh Joo swore was the prettiest sound in the world.
Later, when the sun had set and the last of the photos had been taken, the two of them slipped away from the crowd. Still in their gowns, they walked hand in hand through the campus one last time, retracing old paths—past the bench where they once shared late-night snacks, the lecture hall where they first sat side by side, the dormitory that had become their first real home.
And years later, in a garden behind a small white house with hanging plants and soft light, they stood again—this time in tailored suits and polished shoes.
The ceremony was simple. No grand venue, no elaborate speeches. Just the people who mattered, soft music, and the boy Sejin had once fallen in love with on a busy subway morning, now standing before him with eyes full of stars.
"I vow to never let you walk in the rain alone," Joo said, voice steady, eyes glistening. "To always cover you, even if it means losing my own shirt—literally."
Everyone laughed, and Sejin shook his head, cheeks pink.
"And I vow," Sejin whispered, "to always choose you—even when you snore, even when you finish my snacks, even when life gets messy. I'll choose you."
When they kissed, the world faded. There was no one else. Just them. As it had always been.
Under one sky.
YOU ARE READING
Under One Sky {한 하늘 아래}
Romance(A Short Story) Sejin never expected to find the boy from the subway sitting next to him in class. Shy, soft-spoken, and a little too used to being invisible, Sejin prefers quiet corners and late-night walks. Joo, on the other hand, is everything Se...
