A week had passed, but my mind hadn't moved on.
Every night, when I lay in bed, I found myself back in his room. The wide, echoing silence of the mansion. The expensive furniture that felt more like a museum than a home. The way he stood there, guarded but not dismissive, when I entered.
And then—
That moment.
I'd reached for his notebook at the same time he did, and before I knew it, my foot slipped on the edge of the rug. We both toppled backward, the world spinning until the bed caught us. My shoulder pressed into his chest, his hand brushed against mine as he steadied himself, and his breath fanned my cheek. For a heartbeat, I thought time had stopped.
We'd scrambled up quickly after, both pretending nothing had happened, but the memory lingered like a ghost. My chest still tightened whenever I remember it — the soft give of the mattress, the warmth of him so close.
Since then, I hadn't spoken much to him. He hadn't spoken to me either. But in class, I caught myself stealing glances, wondering if he remembered too. Wondering if he thought about it the way I did.
And today, sitting in my seat, I couldn't pretend anymore. I wasn't just curious about him. I wanted to know him. I wanted to understand why the silence around him felt so heavy, and why the smallest touches left me restless for days.
"Jiho— Minjae!"
Na-yeon's hand waved in front of my face, snapping me out of my haze. Her grin was all too knowing. "Don't tell me you're daydreaming again. Let me guess… blue eyes, messy brown hair, moody aura?"
My throat caught. "What are you even—"
Ji-hyun leaned over with a smirk. "She's right. You've been weird lately. Something happen between you two?"
How they know?
I glared. "Nothing happened."
Na-yeon gasped like an actress on stage. "So something did happen!"
I dropped my head onto my desk with a groan.
With friends like these, secrets didn't stand a chance.
The teacher walked in then, sparing me further interrogation. But even as the lecture began, my thoughts drifted back to him. Always back to him.
---
The day passed in a blur. I kept catching myself staring — at the slope of his shoulders, at the way his blue eyes flickered to the window more often than the board. He didn't take many notes, but his pencil tapped quietly, rhythmically, as if his mind was somewhere far away.
Then, in the middle of class, my pencil slipped off the desk. I reached for it—
And another hand was already there.
Our fingers brushed.
My pulse spiked, blood rushing to my ears. For a second he froze, and I thought maybe he felt it too. He set the pencil on my desk without meeting my eyes, but not before I noticed the faint red flush creeping up his ears.
A grin tugged at my lips despite myself.
Cold, detached Ha-neul… blushing.
---
Lunch was its usual circus, thanks to Na-yeon and Ji-hyun.
"Give it back!" Ji-hyun hissed, reaching for his drink.
Na-yeon held it just out of reach, sipping dramatically. "Mmm. So much better because it's yours."
"Are you five?" he muttered, face heating.
"Couple alert!" someone shouted across the cafeteria.
Both of them choked. "We are NOT a couple!" they yelled in unison.
The whole table erupted with laughter.
I couldn't help but smile. They were ridiculous, but maybe that's what made them work so well. Watching them, a pang hit me — envy, maybe. They had something easy, unspoken, a way of belonging to each other without saying it outright.
When my eyes drifted back to Ha-neul, I realized he wasn't laughing. He just sat at the edge, quiet as always, picking at his food. But when his gaze lifted and locked with mine, my breath hitched.
Blue eyes. Lonely eyes. And for a split second, I thought I saw the same question in them that haunted me: what is this between us?
---
After school, I lingered, shoving my books into my bag slowly. Usually Ha-neul was the first to disappear, but today he stayed.
I tried not to hope, but my heart betrayed me, beating faster as his shadow fell across my desk.
"You… forgot this."
I looked up. He was holding out my pen, the one I hadn't realized had fallen again. His voice was soft, careful. Not cold.
"Thanks," I said, my smile slipping out before I could stop it.
When I reached for it, our fingers brushed again. This time he didn't yank away immediately.
For a fragile moment, it felt like we were suspended in silence together, the rest of the classroom fading out. Just me and him, and the electricity humming between our hands.
---
I still don't know why I let him in that day.
No one ever comes into my house. Not because I tell them not to, but because they never ask. It's easier that way. Easier to keep the silence intact.
But Minjae hadn't asked either. He'd just… stayed. And somehow, I hadn't pushed him out.
And then we fell.
For the first time in years, my heartbeat had raced, pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. I should've told him to leave after. Should've built my walls back up. But I didn't. I let him stay.
And all week, I've hated myself for remembering how close his face had been, how warm he felt against me.
---
In class today, his pencil rolled off the desk. I shouldn't have reached. I shouldn't have cared. But I did.
Our fingers touched. Just a second. But it sent something sharp through me, a crack in the wall I'd spent years building.
I pulled back fast, hiding the heat creeping into my skin.
He couldn't see it. He couldn't know.
At lunch, Na-yeon and Ji-hyun were loud again, denying the obvious. Everyone teased them, laughing. I pretended not to care, but a strange ache gnawed at me.
They had something messy but warm. Something alive. I'd never had that. And when I glanced across the table, Minjae's eyes were already on me. I turned away too late.
Why does he keep looking at me like that? Like I matter.
---
After class, I should've left. I always do. But my feet wouldn't move. I stayed until everyone else left, until only he was there, fumbling with his books.
Then I saw his pen on the floor. My body moved before my mind caught up.
"You… forgot this," I said. My voice cracked a little, but he only smiled.
When our fingers brushed, I should've pulled back instantly. But I didn't. Not right away.
For a fleeting heartbeat, it was almost unbearable — how close, how warm, how real it felt.
I let go eventually, but my chest was pounding. Minjae was dangerous. Every glance, every accidental touch, he was unraveling something in me I thought was gone.
And the worst part?
I didn't want him to stop.