The second episode of Head Over Heels is heavy in ways that sneak up slowly. Gyeon-woo’s grandmother dies off-screen, but not without trying. She calls him in her final moments, and he doesn’t answer. At that exact time, he’s being attacked by a fire ghost at school. While she dies alone, he nearly burns alive. The cruelty of it folds over itself.
Seong-ah learns of the death from the ghost herself. Ok-soon appears before her with the calm of someone who already understands the end. There’s no scream, no crash of light, just a presence that shifts everything around it. The show lets the moment land without excess.

Where grief doesn’t wait
The aftermath cuts deeper in episode 2 Head Over Heels. Seong-ah goes to the funeral. She doesn’t say a word. Gyeon-woo sees her and shatters. His scream isn’t directed at her, it bursts out of something deeper. The kind of grief that comes from losing the only person who stayed, and from being seen in a moment too exposed to hold.
He stays distant. The fire rescue doesn’t change that. Kindness lands like water on stone, present, real, but unable to reach the place where it’s most needed. Head Over Heels respects that space. No sudden warmth. No quick healing. Just the ache of a boy whose last safe place disappeared.
And behind him, two classmates who don’t know what to say, only how to stand nearby.

Still a comfort drama, even when it burns
The drama holds its warmth even when everything hurts. The fire ghost, the funeral, the silence between friends, the tone doesn’t break. It stays steady, gentle, even when everything around it starts to fall apart.
While visiting Gyeon-woo’s house, Seong-ah shares that she was adopted. She says it lightly, without pause, like it’s just another piece of her. If she acts sad, people pity her. So she learned not to. That’s how she gets through. That’s how she’s always been.
At first, she came after him because of the case, and maybe because he was a little intriguing. But something shifted. It’s not about the curse anymore. It’s not even about being right. She cares now. Quietly, fully.
Running in, not away
And Ji-ho, the boy who could’ve walked away from all of it, doesn’t hesitate. He storms into a haunted classroom with a fire extinguisher like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He saves both of them. Not because he’s in love. Not because someone asked. Just because he’s good.
He is no comic relief. He isn’t decorative. Ji-ho is the kind of person who sees a friend in danger and runs toward the fire. That’s not side character energy. That’s a lead in his own right.

Head Over Heels: Comfort, with heart
Two episodes in, and Head Over Heels is already giving more than expected. The ghosts unsettle, the pacing knows when to breathe, the humor lands without breaking the mood. But it’s the emotional weight, quiet, steady, unshakable, that stays long after the episode ends.
Grief doesn’t ask for attention here. It lives in the corners. In missed calls. In voices that don’t rise. And still, there’s warmth. There’s company. There’s care in every awkward glance and every step that doesn’t lead away.
Head Over Heels is a comfort drama with a heart.
And it beats.
Strong. Because someone stayed.
Rating with a touch of flair: 5 out of 5, missed calls and near deaths.