The Year of Stolen Glances

A Whimsical Modern-Day Romance

There were many things people whispered about Jess and Yongsun.

That they were both strange in their own ways. That they often found themselves in the same places at the same times, despite never planning to be. That if one was seen at a festival, the other wouldn’t be far behind, lurking at the edge of the crowd, pretending they hadn’t noticed the other at all.

And that somehow—though neither would ever admit it—they were absolutely, painfully, ridiculously in love.

But of course, both denied it. Clumsily.

Lunar New Year’s Morning Song: A Not-So-Subtle Coincidence

The first time they met was on Lunar New Year’s morning, in the heart of a city that still pulsed with old traditions. Firecrackers popped in the distance, crimson banners fluttered in the cold wind, and the air smelled of roasted chestnuts and something sweet, like warm rice cakes dusted with powdered sugar.

Jess lingered at the edge of the bustling crowd, pretending to be interested in a calligraphy stall, but his gaze drifted toward Yongsun. She moved with an effortless grace, bowing to elders, her hanbok shimmering under the morning light. There was an ease in her laughter, a warmth that seemed to draw people in like moths to a flame.

He had not meant to follow her here. Or at least, that was what he told himself. Yet, time and time again, his feet carried him wherever she was.

Yongsun turned abruptly, her eyes finding his with startling accuracy. Jess froze, the weight of being caught in the act sending a rush of heat to his face. He fumbled in his pocket, withdrawing a red envelope—one he had intended to give his aunt—and thrust it forward as if that would erase his blunder.

“Happy New Year,” he said, his voice betraying his nervousness.

Yongsun’s lips curled into an amused smirk. She plucked the envelope from his fingers, turning it over. “Is this a bribe?” she asked.

“For what?”

“To ignore the fact that you’ve been standing there for the past twenty minutes watching me?”

Jess opened his mouth, then shut it. Yongsun let out a soft laugh, tapping the envelope lightly against his chest before slipping it into the sleeve of her hanbok. “I’ll accept it as an apology,” she teased before disappearing into the festival crowd.

Jess exhaled slowly, watching her leave, and only then did he realize he had just given her an envelope filled with scratch-off lottery tickets and a discount coupon for dumplings.

Children’s Day – The Kite Catastrophe

The field was a riot of color, kites soaring in every direction, carried by the strong spring breeze. The festival was meant to celebrate childhood wonder, and Yongsun had insisted they participate in the kite-flying contest.

“It’s teamwork,” she had declared, pushing a pile of wooden rods and paper into Jess’s arms. “How hard can it be?”

The answer? Very hard.

Jess struggled with the frame, trying to tie the knots properly, only to have them slip loose the moment he let go. Yongsun, watching from the side, bit her lip, trying and failing to hide her amusement.

“This isn’t funny,” Jess grumbled as he fumbled with the paper, accidentally tearing a corner.

“It’s a little funny,” Yongsun admitted, holding out a roll of tape.

By the time they finally got the kite in the air, it lurched violently, caught in an updraft, and then, with a dramatic spin, crashed straight into a tree.

There was a beat of silence.

Yongsun burst out laughing, doubling over. “We are terrible at this!”

Jess groaned, running a hand down his face. “I think the kids built better ones than us.”

Yongsun clapped him on the back. “Next time, we practice first.”

Jess sighed, looking up at their kite, tangled hopelessly in the branches. Next time? He wasn’t sure he’d survive another round of humiliation.

The air smelled of roasted chestnuts, grilled fish, and sweet rice cakes. The Harvest Festival was a time of abundance, celebrating the changing season with feasts and festivities.

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Jess, determined to impress Yongsun for once, signed them up for a cooking competition. His confidence lasted exactly five minutes before everything went horribly wrong.

He tried to sear meat—it caught fire. He tried making dumplings—they exploded. Somehow, in his attempt to make soup, he set water on fire.

Yongsun stood off to the side, her arms crossed, her lips pressed together as she tried not to laugh. “You are single-handedly defying the laws of physics.”

Jess groaned, fanning the small flames on his pan. “I don’t know how this happened.”

“I think the universe is trying to tell you something,” she said, stepping in and taking the ladle from him. Within minutes, she salvaged what she could, expertly flipping pancakes and seasoning stew like she had been doing it all her life.

Jess sulked beside her. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Yongsun smirked, sliding a perfectly golden pancake onto his plate. “I’m not saying I did.”

He took a reluctant bite. It was delicious.

Chuseok – The Family Teasing

The moment Jess stepped into Yongsun’s family home for Chuseok, he knew he was in trouble.

Her relatives swarmed him almost immediately. Yongsun’s grandmother peered at him with sharp, assessing eyes. “So, you’re the one?” she mused.

Jess, mid-bow, froze. “The… one?”

“The secret boyfriend,” one of her uncles added, elbowing another family member.

Jess choked on his tea while Yongsun, sitting beside him, said nothing. She sipped her drink with an expression of perfect innocence, watching as her family grilled him with questions.

“How long have you known our Yongsun?”

“Are you planning to marry her?”

“Do you like japchae? Can you cook it?”

Jess spent the rest of the evening red-faced and flustered while Yongsun enjoyed every second of his suffering.

The Fireflies of Summer: A Confession Lost in the Night

The Fireflies Festival brought a quiet kind of magic to the city. Lanterns floated along the river, and fireflies blinked in the trees like fallen stars. Jess had promised himself that tonight would be the night. No more hesitating, no more swallowing his feelings. He would tell Yongsun the truth.

They walked along the lantern-lit path, the warm air filled with the distant hum of music. Yongsun tilted her head, watching a cluster of fireflies hovering near the water’s edge.

“Do fireflies sing, do you think?” she mused, her voice light with curiosity.

Jess glanced at her, his heart thudding against his ribs. “If they did, they’d probably be laughing at me right now.”

She turned to him, eyes gleaming with interest. “Why?”

He hesitated. It was right there, at the tip of his tongue. But before he could answer, a group of children ran past, giggling as they released lanterns into the sky. The moment slipped away like fireflies escaping into the night.

Yongsun shook her head, smiling to herself. “You’re impossible, Jess.”

And he knew, with every ounce of frustration in his bones, that she was right.

The Wishing Tree and the Lanterns

The Autumn Festival was known for its wishing tree, where people tied slips of paper to its branches, their deepest desires carried away with the wind. Jess found himself standing beneath it, lantern in hand, staring at the glowing wishes rustling above him.

A few feet away, Yongsun was doing the same. Neither of them spoke, lost in their thoughts. Then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, Jess overheard her whisper to the tree:

“I love him. But he’s a fool.”

His breath caught. At that same moment, Yongsun heard his own murmur:

“I love her. But if I tell her, I might lose her, and I’d perish out of heartbreak.”

They stood frozen, neither turning to face the other. The air between them was thick with something unspoken, something that neither dared to break.

Their lanterns, identical in color, drifted skyward together, carrying their unspoken confessions into the night.

The first snowfall of the season dusted the streets in a layer of white, making the entire world feel softer, quieter. Jess and Yongsun sat on the steps outside a cozy café, hands wrapped around steaming cups of hot chocolate.

Jess exhaled, watching his breath curl into the cold air. “We always end up together at these things.”

Yongsun hummed, her eyes drifting over the snow-covered rooftops. “Maybe it’s fate.”

He turned to her, watching as snowflakes gathered in her long hair. “Maybe it is.”

For a moment, the world felt still—just them, the snow, and the quiet certainty that something unspoken hung between them.

But Jess, as always, let the moment slip away.

The Serenade of Love and Lanterns

Winter arrived with the Festival of Lights, a celebration of warmth in the coldest time of year. Snow blanketed the streets, and lanterns glowed against the frost-kissed night. Yongsun had had enough.

She found Jess’s journal—filled with confessions, longing words, and quiet heartbreak—and stood atop the town square’s stage. Without hesitation, she read his words aloud, her voice carrying over the gathered festival-goers.

“I love Yongsun. But if I tell her, she might push me away, and I would not survive that.”

The crowd fell into a hush, eyes darting toward Jess, who stood stricken in the sea of people. Yongsun closed the journal, exhaling sharply. “Tell me, dummy,” she demanded.

Jess swallowed hard, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His fear was palpable, but so was the weight of the moment.

But before he could say anything, Yongsun turned away, her frustration finally boiling over. That night, she told her friends she loved someone else. Jess overheard. His heart cracked like ice beneath his feet.

And then, when he thought he had lost her for good, she appeared in front of his home with a lantern, her hands trembling in the cold. She sang—a melody of longing, of all the times they had missed their chance, of all the words he had left unsaid.

Jess felt something in his chest loosen, a knot of hesitation unraveling. He stepped forward, his hand grazing hers. “I love you, too,” he whispered, the weight of his words lifting with the winter wind.

Then he kissed her—fully, properly, as snowflakes swirled around them.

The entire festival erupted into cheers and playful woos, their friends laughing and clapping. Yongsun, breathless from both singing and the kiss, grinned.

“Took you long enough.”

The Love That Time Can’t Steal

By the time the next Lunar New Year arrived, people no longer whispered about Jess and Yongsun.

Because now, they weren’t two people circling each other in quiet longing.

They were together. Unmistakably, irrevocably, hopelessly in love.

And, of course, still a little weird.

Because Yongsun swore up and down that Jess had been the one following her all along.

And Jess, even as he held her close, still insisted that he hadn’t.

Even though they both knew the truth.