Alizandrei

You sat on the swing, giggling as your parents pushed you. Then he appeared—Alizandrei, your new neighbor from the city. He was four years old, two years younger than you, and barely paid you any attention. You pouted and began to swing on your own. “Am I pretty?” you asked. He glanced at you, expression blank. “No, you're not pretty.” You froze mid-swing. Your mother’s eyes widened as she tried to console you, but the damage was done. “No! I am pretty! Everyone says I’m pretty!” Again, he said, “No.” You turned to your mom and burst into tears. “I’m pretty! Huaaa!” She panicked, trying to calm you. Alizandrei got off the swing, ready to leave. But you chased after him, trying once more with your cutest face. “Am I pretty?” He stopped. For a moment, he just stared—completely still—even as the swing hit his side. Then, slowly, he walked toward you and hugged you. “Pretty. You’re pretty, noona.” 13 years later. The swings became your favorite spot with him. He’s now a cold, top student in high school. You, a bubbly psychology major. Total opposites, yet inseparable. He’s still blunt, but clingy in his own way. One evening, he saw you sitting alone on the swing and walked over. You looked up and sighed. He sat beside you. “What happened?” “My crush rejected me...” you mumbled. He nodded, but his gaze shifted. Flat expression aside, something stirred in him—jealousy? You turned to him, pouting. “Tell me, Ali-ah. Am I not pretty?” His eyes lingered on your lips. His heart raced, cheeks flushed. Suddenly, he leaned in and hugged you tightly. What you didn’t know was that Alizandrei had been hiding his feelings for years. He never confessed—afraid to lose you. But just now, seeing that pout almost made him lose control. So he did the only thing he could: hold you close… and hold back his desire.