Group projects?
Again?
Why?
Group projects have always been a nightmare for me. Not because I hate people—I don't, really—but because I never know what to say. Na-yeon talks enough for three people, Ji-hyun quietly organizes everything, and me? I usually just try not to slow them down. If I can nod in the right places and look like I'm thinking hard, that's good enough.
So when the teacher started rattling off names for partners, I silently prayed I'd be grouped with them.
Please god! Pair me with them!
Pair me with them!
Safe ground.
Predictable ground.
"Kang Minjae… and Ha-neul."
My stomach dropped like a stone.
I sneaked a glance sideways. Ha-neul sat there, posture straight, expression unreadable, like he hadn't even registered the teacher's words. Or maybe he had, and it just didn't matter to him. He closed his notebook with the same deliberate neatness as always. Meanwhile, my palms were already sweating.
What i do?
The project itself wasn't difficult—we just had to analyze the short story we'd read in class and put together a short presentation. Simple in theory.
But in practice? I had to talk to him. Actually talk.
The room filled with chatter as other groups formed. Desks scraped, friends leaned together, Na-yeon was already laughing at something across the aisle. And me? I sat frozen, trying to remember how sentences worked.
Finally, I forced my throat to open. "Um… should we, uh, divide the work?"
Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet mine. Dark. Steady. No flicker of surprise, no awkward hesitation like most people would have. He just looked, measuring me in silence until my skin prickled.
Then, quietly, he said, "…You read well. You can present."
Hhh?
H...he ...speak?
The words startled me—not for their meaning, but for the fact that they existed at all. A full sentence. Longer than yesterday's single word.
"O-okay," I stammered. "Then maybe… I'll present, and you can, umm, write the points?"
He gave a faint nod.
And just like that, the conversation ended.
---
Beautiful!
We settled into the assignment. The teacher's voice drifted in the background, but I barely heard it. Instead, I focused on the boy beside me. Ha-neul wasn't just sitting there in silence—he was working. His handwriting was neat, sharp strokes filling the page with bullet points that looked almost too perfect. He never paused to doodle in the margins, never crossed out mistakes. Every mark had purpose.
When I fumbled over phrasing, staring at the page too long, he underlined a word or jotted down something clearer, then slid the notebook toward me without a word. Not a sigh, not an eye-roll. Just… quiet help.
The silence between us wasn't empty anymore. It was heavy, but steady, like a river moving under the surface.
At one point, we both reached for the same sheet of paper. Our fingers brushed. Just a second—barely a touch—but it was enough. Heat shot up my arm so fast I nearly dropped the pen.
My face burned. My pulse hammered in my ears.
And Ha-neul? He didn't even blink. He just kept writing, calm as ever, while I sat there trying to remember how to breathe.
I didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or .… disappointed.
---
The bell rang all too soon. The classroom erupted into motion, chairs scraping, voices rising, the usual chaos of freedom.
Na-yeon swooped in like a storm cloud with ribbons, eyes narrowing at me. "You two were awfully quiet. Did you even talk?"
Thinking of it, we did but like normal people do.
But we did so.
I stuffed papers into my bag, muttering, "Of course we did."
Ji-hyun gave her a look over the rim of his glasses. "Not everyone has to talk nonstop, Na-yeon."
She gasped, poking his arm. "Are you calling me loud?"
"Didn't say that." His tone was flat, but his ears turned pink.
Hhh? I am seeing right? Not imagination?
I blinked. That was new. Na-yeon didn't notice, too busy teasing, but I caught the way Ji-hyun's fingers fidgeted with his pen, the way his gaze darted anywhere but at her. Something flickered there—something even he hadn't named yet.
But before I could dwell on it, movement drew my eyes back to the door.
Ha-neul had packed his things, notebook tucked neatly away. For once, though, he didn't leave immediately. He paused, gaze settling on me with that same steady weight.
Then, in his low, even voice, he said, "Good work."
Two words.
Ordinary.
Forgettable.
Except they weren't. Not coming from him.
And then he was gone, footsteps fading into the hallway.
---
I sat there, frozen in place while Na-yeon rambled about bubble tea and Ji-hyun sighed at her dramatics. Their voices blurred together, background noise against the echo replaying in my head.
"Good work."
I could still hear it—the calm tone, the faint pause between the words, the way it didn't sound forced or polite. He had meant it.
I stuffed my books into my bag, but the words followed me out of the classroom, down the hall, past the lockers. The campus buzzed with noise, but in my head, all I heard was him.
By the time I stepped outside, the sky had dipped into soft orange. I slowed, breathing in the cool air, trying to shake it off.
They were just words. Ordinary words. Anyone could say them. Don't think much.
But my chest refused to listen. It kept tightening, restless and curious, as if those two syllables had opened a door I didn't know existed.
I wondered what else his voice could sound like. I wondered how it would feel to hear my name from his mouth.
The thought made my ears burn. I shook my head, scolding myself for being ridiculous.
And yet… as I walked home, I caught myself smiling at nothing.
It wasn't much. Just two words. But from him, it felt like the start of something I couldn't quite name.
And that was enough to keep me waiting for whatever might come next.