Harper's steps slowed, her breath catching as Kim's words settled between them like a quiet weight. She glanced over, catching his steady gaze.
"Why?" she asked, voice low but edged with skepticism.
Kim shrugged, his expression calm and unbothered. "I don't know. You're... intriguing. Not just the surface stuff — there's something underneath."
Harper scoffed softly, shaking her head. "There's nothing interesting about me. Nothing worth knowing." Her tone was sharp, defensive.
"Trust me."
Kim's eyes didn't waver. Instead, he leaned back slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"That's where you're wrong."
He gestured toward the dirt that was on her hands, the grime still clinging stubbornly. "For you to be sitting in a diner in the middle of the night covered in dirt like that... you've got a story. And I don't buy the 'nothing to see here' act."
Harper narrowed her eyes, a dry laugh escaping her. "You're really fucking nosey, you know that?"
As they arrived at the postbox, Harper's fingers trembled slightly as she folded the letter one last time before sliding it through the narrow slot of the postbox. The faint thump as it landed inside echoed far too loudly in the stillness of the deserted street. The afternoon air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain and the distant hum of city life that never quite settled down.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling the awkwardness of the moment settle over her like a second skin. Her throat tightened, and for once, words escaped her. She wasn't great at goodbyes—too blunt, too wary.
"Well.." she muttered, barely meeting Kim's gaze, "I guess that's it."
Kim smiled, the kind of soft, knowing smile reserved for moments when you see someone's defenses cracking just a little. He stepped closer still, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of cedarwood and something crisp in his cologne. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned in and whispered in flawless Korean.
"잘 가."
Harper froze mid-step, brows knitting together in confusion. "I don't understand Korean."
He chuckled, the sound light and genuine, like a kid caught doing something silly. He shook his head slowly, eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Exactly. That's why I said it—to mess with you."
Harper hesitated, her steps faltering as Kim's soft Korean words floated after her like a whispered secret. The streetlamp almost cast a pale glow, catching the glint in his eyes—bright, teasing, and somehow comforting. Slowly, a small, genuine smile curled at the edges of Harper's lips, breaking through the usual guarded expression she wore like armor.
"What did you actually say?" she asked, voice low, tinged with curiosity despite herself. "Did you call me a bitch or something?"
Kim's grin deepened, his dimples appearing as he leaned slightly closer, the warmth in his gaze steady and unshakable.
"I said goodbye." he replied quietly. "In Korean."
For a heartbeat, Harper let herself smile—a real one this time—softening the edges of her face. The smile was shy, like it didn't quite belong to her, but it was there, a rare moment of vulnerability and connection. Then, almost as quickly as it came, she blinked it away, tightening her lips and pushing the softness back underground where no one could reach it.
"I'll be coming to Westerleigh Prep tomorrow." she said, her voice steady but careful, almost hesitant. "To see a friend."
Kim's eyebrows shot up, amusement flickering through his eyes as if he'd just caught her in a lie—or maybe just in a secret worth teasing about.
"Oh? And who might this mysterious friend be?"
Harper shrugged with a half-smile, casual but guarded, like she was daring him to pry. "None of your business."
His smirk grew wider, his gaze sharpened with playful challenge.
"How do you even know I go there?"
Harper's eyes flicked to the navy blazer hanging over his shoulders, the unmistakable Westerleigh crest stitched neatly on the pocket.
"Your blazer gave you away, idiot." she said, voice low, a spark of triumph in her tone.
Kim laughed softly, running a hand through his dark hair with a casual, almost boyish charm that made the night feel lighter, more real.
"Touché. You're sharper than I thought, Harper."
Harper shot him a sideways look—half amusement, half warning—before she took a slow, deliberate step back into the shadowed quiet of the street. The air was cool against her skin, but the lingering warmth of that fleeting smile stayed with her, a quiet reminder of something unspoken between them.
Harper's lips curved into a small, hesitant smile, the first genuine one Kim had seen from her tonight. Her eyes met his, sharp and searching, as if trying to read what lay beneath his easy confidence.
"Don't you dare go looking for me tomorrow." she warned quietly, her voice soft but firm, a flicker of something vulnerable hiding in the edges. "I'll tell everyone you're stalking me."
Kim cocked his head slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face, eyes glinting with playful challenge.
"What if I want to?" he asked, the words light but edged with a quiet determination that made Harper's heart skip.
For a moment, Harper laughed—a real, unguarded laugh that caught the night air and softened the tension between them. It was a rare sound from her, unexpected and bright, and Kim's smile deepened in response.
"I'm really not that intriguing, Kim." she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying to downplay the moment with a casual shrug.
Kim shook his head, amusement and something warmer in his gaze.
"I may have to disagree, Harper." he said softly, taking a step closer, the subtle shift in his stance closing the space between them just enough to feel intimate but not overwhelming.
There was a pause—a quiet hush in the air as if the street itself was holding its breath. Kim's voice dropped slightly, sincere and gentle.
"Why do you have to go home so soon? Can't you stay out a little longer?"
Harper's eyes flicked away, the weight of her reality settling on her shoulders. She opened her mouth, wanting to explain—the curfew, the probation, the endless restrictions that made her nights feel like borrowed time—but the words tangled inside her, too raw, too humiliating. Instead, she swallowed the truth and offered a softer excuse, voice barely above a whisper.
"I have to go look after my little sister... she's really sick."
Kim's expression softened instantly, a tender concern warming his dark eyes. He gave a small nod, voice low and hopeful.
"Well, I hope she gets better soon. And maybe... we can spend more time together. When you're free."
Harper let out a soft chuckle, the sound trembling between nerves and amusement. She tucked her hair behind her ear again, the movement more deliberate this time as if steadying herself.
"Goodbye Kim." she said, her tone playful but with an edge of warmth. Then, slipping effortlessly into Korean.
"잘 가."
Kim's laughter was easy and genuine, lighting up his face.