Only You, Jaeyun | JAKEHOON

Chapter 18

— “We match.”

“Okay, so if we do the history timeline in sections,” Heeseung said, pushing his notebook across the table, “we can divide it by centuries—Jay, stop doodling on the back.”

“I’m contributing,” Jay said, proudly holding up a page where Napoleon was doing finger guns.

They were sitting in the library again—group project, study hour, two desks shoved together.

Jake, curled into his usual hoodie (Sunghoon’s, again), chewed the cap of his pastel highlighter.

Sunghoon sat beside him, long legs folded under the table, silently reading over the draft Jake had written.

“Your handwriting’s neat,” he said softly.

Jake looked up. “Really?”

Sunghoon nodded. “Better than mine.”

Jay leaned over. “Let me see—oh my god, you write like a robot.”

Heeseung snorted. “That’s not handwriting, that’s a confession note from a serial killer.”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “Don’t talk to me.”

Jake giggled behind his hand.

“Anyway,” Heeseung continued, ignoring them, “Jay and I will take the 1600s and 1700s. You two take the 1800s.”

“Got it,” Jake said, already reaching for his highlighters.

Sunghoon blinked. “Are those... pink?”

Jake smiled sheepishly. “They help me concentrate.”

Without thinking, he uncapped the pink one and started underlining the heading. Then, on a whim, he clicked the yellow. And while Sunghoon reread the paragraph—

He gently reached over and drew a tiny five-pointed star on the back of Sunghoon’s hand.

Sunghoon froze.

Jake blinked. “Oh—sorry, I didn’t mean—was that okay?”

Sunghoon looked at his hand.

A small, bright star glowed right on his pale skin.
He turned it slightly. Said nothing.

Then, very quietly:
“Do another.”

Jake looked up.

Sunghoon didn’t meet his eyes. He just held his hand still, fingers relaxed on the table.

So Jake smiled—and drew another star. Then a smiley face. Then a sun.

Jay, across the desk, had gone silent.

Heeseung just watched, head resting on his hand, eyes not leaving Jake’s face.

The moment was so gentle, so easy. Like it had happened a thousand times before.

The next day, Jake walked into class and nearly tripped over his own feet.

Because there, sitting by the window, was Park Sunghoon—with the same pastel stars drawn across Jake’s wrist.

Matching.

Neat. Clean. Soft.

Jake blinked.

Jay screamed.

“YOU MATCH?!”

Sunghoon didn’t look up. “He started it.”

Jake blinked again. “You didn’t wash it off?”

“It didn’t come off.”

Jay slammed his water bottle. “SOMEONE GET ME A FAN. I’M SWEATING.”

Jake looked down at his wrist, then back at Sunghoon’s.

They were the same. His little sun was drawn right next to Sunghoon’s faint freckles. Right above the veins that showed when Sunghoon held his pen.

Jake bit his lip. “You even copied my sun.”

“I thought it looked like me.”

Jay actually fell off his chair.

Heeseung, watching from behind his textbook, didn’t say anything.

But he smiled.

A quiet, tired smile.

One he only showed when no one was looking.

end of chapter