Chapter1: A Sunset at the Door
I have always loved people who are kind to me. Their warmth feels like sunlight on a cold day, and perhaps that is why this memory has stayed with me so vividly.
It was just another random, boring afternoon. I was sprawled lazily on the bed, waiting for my turn to use the only smartphone in our house. My brother, Yeong-woo, had taken it out with him, and I was growing restless. I called him, half-annoyed and half-pleading, asking when he would be back.
“It’s my turn,” I reminded him. “How can you use it for so long?”
The words were still on my lips when the doorbell rang. I jumped up, my irritation forgotten, and ran to the door. Without thinking, I flung it open and blurted out, “Give me the phone! It’s my turn now!”
But the person standing there was not Yeong-woo.
I froze. My brother was standing behind him, smiling sheepishly, but the one at the door was someone else—tall, broad-shouldered, and strikingly handsome. His hair was curly, falling carelessly over his forehead, and his skin carried a warm, dusky glow. His smile was gentle, his presence commanding yet comforting.
It was Eunho—my brother’s best friend.
Though he had visited our hometown when I was a child, I barely remembered him. This was his first time visiting our house, and I had just babbled nonsense at him. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Eunho chuckled softly, his voice warm and teasing. “You can use my phone,” he said. “I’ll lend it to you without charging any fees.”
The way he spoke—kind, playful, yet mature—made me feel as though I had stumbled upon a beautiful sunset. I grew shy, darting back into my room with my heart racing.
A little later, my mother called me to serve snacks. I carried the tray into the living room, but my nerves betrayed me. I placed the plates hurriedly on the table and fled, unable to meet his eyes. From the safety of my room, I peeked through the half-open door, secretly gazing at him.
He looked so at ease, chatting with my mother and Yeong-woo, his laughter filling the house with warmth. I lay on my bed, hugging my pillow, trying to calm the strange flutter in my chest.
Then, unexpectedly, Eunho appeared at my door.
He leaned casually against the frame, his smile soft. “How are your studies going, Seyeon?” he asked.
I blinked, startled. At first, my words stumbled out shyly, but soon his easy manner made me comfortable. We talked—about school, about books, about little things. Time slipped away unnoticed. An hour passed, yet it felt like only minutes. I realized how much I loved talking to him, how natural it felt.
But the moment was broken when Yeong-woo barged in, his mischievous grin already spelling trouble.
“She’s just a tomboy,” he announced to Eunho. “She's only good at studies and sports, and she never helps Mom with chores.”
His words cut deep. My own brother, speaking ill of me in front of a guest. My anger flared. “How can you say that?” I snapped, my voice trembling.
Yeong-woo only laughed, making up silly nicknames for me and mocking me until tears welled in my eyes. I broke down, crying in frustration.
Eunho’s expression changed instantly. He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, his voice firm yet gentle. “Enough, Yeong-woo,” he said. “Don’t speak like that.”
For the first time, someone stood up for me against my brother. My heart swelled with gratitude.
I wiped my tears, embarrassed, and tried to change the subject. “Do you play any mobile battle games?” I asked, shyly avoiding his gaze.
He smiled, amused. “Yes. Want my ID?”
I nodded eagerly. When he shared it, I was stunned—his rank was impressively high. “Wow,” I whispered. “You’re amazing.”
He laughed. “I’m shocked a little kiddo like you plays battle games.”
“Why?” I challenged. “Are games made only for boys?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “My younger siblings love Barbie games. You really are different, just like your brother told me.”
I straightened proudly. “Yes. I’m unique.”
The evening slipped into night. At 11 p.m., Eunho rose to leave. My heart sank as he walked toward the door.
“When will you come again?” I asked softly, almost pleading.
He smiled, his eyes warm, but gave no answer. “Bye,” he said, and stepped out into the night.
I stood there, watching him go, my heart caught between shyness and longing. That ordinary day had turned into something extraordinary—the day I met Eunho, the boy who felt like a sunset
