They rounded the corner just as the bus came into view, rumbling toward the stop with a hiss of its brakes.
"Come on," Yunho said.
Before she could react, his hand closed firmly around hers, warm and sure, pulling her into a sudden run. The world narrowed to the sound of their footsteps hitting the pavement in sync, the rush of air against her cheeks, and the steady grip that refused to let go.
Bella's breath caught somewhere between surprise and protest. She told herself it was just so they wouldn't miss the bus but the way his fingers fit so naturally around hers made it hard to believe it was only that.
They reached the door just as it opened and Yunho didn't drop her hand until they were safely inside. Even then, the phantom warmth lingered, making her painfully aware of it all the way to her fingertips.
They climbed the steps and shuffled down the aisle, still catching their breath. The bus was nearly full, but they found a pair of seats toward the back. Bella slid into the window side, tucking her bag onto her lap.
Yunho dropped into the seat beside her, his knee brushing hers in the narrow space. He drummed his fingers lightly against his thigh, glancing out the window as if debating something.
Then, casually he said, "Your hands are freezing."
Bella blinked. "What?"
He turned to her, brows raised in mock concern. "Cold hands mean bad circulation. Science says you're supposed to warm them up."
Before she could form a retort, his hand slid over hers, enveloping it completely. His palm was warm, steady, almost distracting in its certainty.
The ride passed in a blur, the warmth of his hand lingering even when he shifted to adjust his seat. Neither of them said much, but the quiet between them wasn't awkward, rather, it was charged, a steady undercurrent humming beneath every small movement. Yunho feigning ignorance while Bella painfully aware of their physical contact.
When the bus finally slowed at their stop, Yunho stood, still holding her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Bella followed, her fingers still caught in his, her bag slung over her shoulder.
They stepped down onto the pavement, the late-afternoon air brushing against them. Yunho didn't let go. He walked beside her, his long stride keeping pace, his grip firm but easy.
It wasn't until they passed a small group near the bus stop when two girls signalling to each other and saying in fake whisper, that it happened.
"Wait… is that Bella? Holding hands with Yunho?" one of them said, voice pitched high with surprise.
Bella's ears burned instantly. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and, in that split second, slipped her hand from his, pretending to adjust her bag strap.
Yunho glanced at her, one brow lifting slightly, but he didn't say a word. A faint, almost amused curve tugged at his lips before he turned his gaze forward again.
Bella got home even more confused than ever.
She dropped her bag onto her bed and sat down beside it, staring at her hands as if they might still carry the warmth of his. The events of the afternoon replayed in sharp, vivid flashes, the sudden pull of his hand when they saw the bus arriving, the way he'd kept hold of it on the ride, the easy confidence in his voice when he'd made that flimsy "cold hands" excuse and then the lingering grip, coupled by his incorrigible smile when she pulled her hand away from his.
It had been so casual for him. Effortless, like he'd done it a hundred times before. For her, it had been anything but casual. Every second had been measured in heartbeats and stolen glances, every brush of his skin against hers setting off a chain reaction she couldn't quite explain.
Now, in the quiet of her room, she wasn't sure what to make of it. If Yunho had noticed her letting go, he hadn't shown it. But that faint smile he'd worn… she could still see it.
Monday came too fast.
Bella sat at her desk, flipping through her textbook like it held the answers to everything, especially the question she wasn't letting herself ask.
She hadn't texted him.
He hadn't texted her.
But her phone had lit up all of Sunday.
Jake had sent a series of chaotic messages:
yooooooo spill already
did he trip over his own ego trying to impress you?
You two disappear for hours and I'm supposed to believe it was just lunch?
Be honest, did you get lucky?
Bella had snorted out loud at that one before sending back:
If by lucky you mean surviving a food coma and buying a baby shark necklace, then yes. Immensely.
Jake had replied with at least five crying-laughing emojis and lamented the "wastage of sexy lingerie," which she did not dignify with a response.
And then there was Emily.
Chaotic, fast-fingered, and entirely too online, Emily's messages had come in one breathless stream of updates:
OKAY BUT WAIT
Did he pick you up or did you meet?
What was he wearing?
Did you eat? Where? What?
Did you KISS?? WAS IT GOOD???
ARE YOU A THING NOW
PLEASE TELL ME I'M LIVING THROUGH YOU
Sorry but NOT sorry for the spam I'm unwell and you are withholding valuable emotional content.
Bella had responded with her trademark calm:
It was noodles. Not a proposal.
To which Emily replied:
NUH-UH. Noodles aren't neutral when Yunho is involved. Details. I want blood.
But Bella didn't give any. Not really. Because she wasn't sure what to make of it either.
And now it was Monday. And the way he hadn't followed up since was… annoying.
Classes passed in a blur. She kept her head down, took notes, and avoided looking toward the back of the room where she knew he usually sat. Every time the door opened, her stomach did an involuntary flip, which she immediately tried to scold into submission.
At lunch, Emily slid into the seat across from her, tray clattering, eyes gleaming like a conspiracy theorist about to present their wall of red string.
"You're wearing lipstick," Emily accused immediately.
Bella blinked. "It's tinted lipbalm and I always wear lipstick."
"Not that shade," Emily said, pointing her fork. "That's I might see a boy pantone code."
Bella scoffed. "It's just lipbalm."
Emily narrowed her eyes. "You're deflecting. Where's Yunho?"
"How would I know?"
Emily leaned forward. "Because you were with him for hours on Saturday. And because boys like him don't just disappear after that unless…" She paused dramatically. "…unless you turned him down."
Bella rolled her eyes. "We had lunch. And walked around. That's it."
"Uh-huh," Emily said, clearly not believing a word.
By the time she got home, she was exhausted from being with Emily and her constant line of firing questions which she had no answers for. She dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed.