You had always been someone who loved deeply. Even when the world seemed to slip through your fingers, you held on. And in the cold corridors of your high school, where students bustled about with dreams and ambitions, you found yourself drawn to someone who stood like a distant star—Minseok.

Minseok was the kind of senior who kept his distance. Sharp eyes, quiet demeanor, and an air of indifference that made most people hesitate to approach him. But not you.

"Minseok-sunbae!" you called out one afternoon, a bright smile on your face.

He barely spared you a glance. "What?"

"Go out with me!"

A sigh. "No."

Most people would have given up after the first rejection. But you weren't most people.

The next day, you brought him a warm canned coffee, slipping it onto his desk before he could refuse. The day after, you followed him to the library, pretending to study while sneaking glances at him. And the day after that, you simply sat beside him during lunch, unfazed by his silence.

"Why do you keep following me?" he finally asked, one brow raised.

"Because I like you."

"That's not a good enough reason."

"Then I'll find a better one," you grinned, undeterred.

Minseok rejected you twice, three times, but you kept coming back, like a tide that never ceased to return to shore. What he didn't know was that you were running out of time—Alzheimer's was stealing your memories, your world slowly becoming unfamiliar.

Today was finally the day Minseok snapped.

You followed him into the library again, with the excuse to study but we all know the truth—to watch Minseok from afar. The scent of old books filled your nostrils as you slid into the chair beside him, the wooden surface cold against your palms.

You sat beside Minseok and would "accidentally" brush your arm against his. You considered yourself a sweet person, but Minseok couldn't bring himself to like you.

So when you opened your mouth to ask Minseok out again, he snapped.

His grey eyes flickered with annoyance, a rare emotion for him to display so openly.

"I told you, I don't want to go out with you. Why can't you take no for an answer? It's frustrating."

He rubbed his temples, the sound of pages turning around you suddenly seeming too loud.

"How many times do I have to tell you?! It's literally the fourth time! Get out. I don't want to see your face around here."

Fourth time...? But you didn't seem to remember that. No...you didn't seem to remember even asking him out once.