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Chapter 9 - A Thread Between Us

It had been exactly a week since that night we walked home together. A week of me thinking too much, staring too long, and pretending I wasn't doing either.

And maybe that's why, when Ha-neul left school early that Friday and I happened to catch him heading toward the gates, my mouth moved before my brain could stop it.

"Hey—wait up. Can I… come over again?"

He froze, half-turned, his expression unreadable. For a heartbeat, I thought he'd say no. That I'd ruined everything by asking.

But then he gave the faintest nod. "If you want."

If I want? Of course I wanted.

---

The walk to his house was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. I was getting used to his silences—learning that sometimes, silence said more than words.

When we finally reached the tall gates of his family's mansion, I felt that same strange weight settle over me. The house was enormous, elegant… and unbearably lonely.

Inside, it was just as I remembered: spotless, quiet, too big for one person. My footsteps echoed against the polished floor as if the walls themselves were reminding me I didn't belong here.

Ha-neul set his bag down neatly by the stairs and glanced back at me. "You can… sit anywhere."

I dropped onto the couch, trying not to look like I was gawking. But my eyes betrayed me, tracing the cold perfection of the space. Everything was in its place—except him.

"You live here all by yourself?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He shrugged, sinking onto the armchair opposite me. "The staff comes in the mornings. They leave before evening."

"And your parents?"

A pause. "Busy."

That single word carried more weight than any explanation.

My chest tightened. I wanted to say something, to reach across the distance between us. But instead, my phone buzzed loudly, breaking the moment.

I pulled it out—and of course, it was Na-yeon.

[Na-yeon: WHERE ARE YOU?? 👀👀 Don't tell me you're with blue-eyes again.]

[Ji-hyun: lol he's definitely there. Send proof.]

[Na-yeon: Kiss him for me!!😘 ]

Heat rushed to my face. I quickly turned my phone face down on the couch, but not before Ha-neul's gaze flicked toward it.

"…Friends?" he asked.

"Nosy ones," I muttered.

To my surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but something close.

I coughed, desperate to change the subject. "Um… do you have a phone?"

He raised a brow. "Obviously."

"Then… give me your number."

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure out if I was joking. "Why?"

"So I can text you," I said simply. "You know, in case you… disappear again."

For a long moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, he pulled his phone from his pocket and slid it across the table.

I grinned, quickly typing in my contact and calling myself so I'd have his number too. "There. Now you're stuck with me."

He shook his head, but I swore I saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

---

Later, when I stood to grab a drink from the counter, my foot caught on the edge of the rug. I stumbled forward—straight into him.

"Whoa—!"

Somehow, in the mess of flailing limbs, I ended up half-falling onto the couch… with Ha-neul beneath me.

My hands pressed against his shoulders, his wide blue eyes staring up into mine. For one dizzy second, I couldn't breathe.

"Sorry!" I scrambled back, face burning.

So embarrassing!!

He sat up slowly, adjusting his shirt like nothing had happened. But the tips of his ears were red.

Neither of us said a word about it. But the air between us felt charged, heavy with something unspoken.

---

I should've said no. When he asked to come over, I should've shut the door, kept the walls up.

But when I saw the way his eyes lit up, I couldn't.

The house felt different with him in it. Less empty. Less like a prison.

Even when his phone buzzed endlessly with his friends' ridiculous messages, I didn't feel irritated. Not really. Maybe even… envious. Of how easily people cared about him, how easily he cared back.

And then he asked for my number.

For a moment, I considered refusing. Numbers mean access. Access means closeness. Closeness means risk.

But then he said it—so I can text you. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And somehow, before I realized it, my phone was in his hands.

Now his name was glowing on my screen, a lifeline I hadn't known I needed.

When he tripped and fell against me, my heart stopped.

His weight pressed against my chest, his warmth far too close. I could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the faint flush across his cheeks.

For one insane second, I almost… didn't want him to move.

But then he pulled away, babbling apologies, and I forced myself to look calm.

Still, my ears betrayed me, burning hot.

The silence after was different. Not heavy, not awkward. Just… charged.

---

That evening, when Minjae finally left, the house sank back into its quiet self. But this time, it felt emptier than ever.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. His name was still there in my contacts, glowing faintly like a thread tying me to something outside these walls.

Before I could stop myself, my fingers typed out a message.

[Ha-neul: …Did you get home?]

For a few seconds, I regretted it.

Why did i did that?

Then his reply came.

[Minjae: Yeah. You?]

[Ha-neul: I'm fine.]

That was it.

Short.

Simple.

But I couldn't bring myself to delete it.

I turned off the screen, slid the phone under my pillow, and lay back. But no matter how hard I tried, I could still feel it—his presence, the invisible thread connecting us.

For once, I didn't hate it.

Because now, I realized—I didn't want to be alone anymore.

---

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