She finally freed the strand of hair from his shirt button, her fingers brushing lightly against him one last time.
Then—she looked up.
And paused.
Because he was already looking at her.
So close.
Eyes deep, soft, unreadable.
Neither of them breathed.
For just a second, everything stopped again.
Then—
Riiing.
His phone.
They both blinked.
Reality cracked the spell.
She pulled back gently, whispering, "You should pick up."
He nodded slowly, swallowing back the annoyance that flared in his chest. He didn't show it, but in his heart—
Why now?
Why did the world always interrupt at this exact moment?
Still holding back a sigh, he pulled the phone from his pocket and turned around to answer.
It was his manager.
She stepped aside, absentmindedly doing some steps in the air with her arms, like a little ballerina practicing mid-air.
Light, bouncy.
Childish.
Adorable.
He turned slightly, catching the sight from the corner of his eye — and despite the interruption, despite his mood…
He smiled.
His manager's voice was echoing through the line. "Everything's done. We'll be flying to you in three days. They got the visa. It's all confirmed."
His smile faded a little.
There was a long pause.
He didn't speak for a beat. Then—
"…Okay."
But the okay came with a sigh.
Quiet. Heavy. Sad.
Not the excited kind they expected.
He ended the call and turned to tell her—
But froze.
She was staring at her own phone now.
Eyes wide.
Mouth slightly open.
Her thumb barely moving as she scrolled.
He raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"
She turned her phone toward him slowly — still stunned. "I… I wasn't expecting this."
He looked down.
And saw it.
A full list.
Of names.
Boys.
More than twenty.
All signing up to be her dance partner.
Some even wrote little notes like:
"Please let me be her partner."
"I'll match her energy!"
"If she chooses me, I won't disappoint!"
And one even said:
"I saw her practicing once… she's like sunshine. I just want to dance beside that light."
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
She was still looking at the list in awe. "I thought… maybe one or two. Or no one."
He stared at her.
And something in his chest twisted.
Not in anger.
But in realization.
Of course they wanted to dance with her.
She was light.
Of course they saw it.
But…
He didn't like it.
Not one bit.
He took a breath, hiding the flicker of jealousy behind a calm voice.
"So…" he said slowly, "Are you going to choose one of them?"
She looked at him, eyes still wide.
Then smiled—gently, like she didn't even notice the question behind the question.
"I don't know… I didn't think I'd have to choose anyone."
He looked down at the list again.
And this time…
He didn't smile.
Because suddenly, he didn't want to just be the one teaching her.
He wanted to be the one dancing beside her — on stage.
In front of everyone.
Where no one else could claim that spot.
They came downstairs together, the soft thud of their footsteps filling the quiet house.
And then—
Y/N started pacing.
Back and forth.
One hand on her hip, the other dramatically flailing in the air as she spoke to no one in particular.
"I don't know!" she huffed. "I'm the crush of so many boys?? What should I do?!"
She spun around mid-step, glancing at him. "I thought I was a quiet fox, not a popular one!"
He leaned slightly against the wall, arms crossed, watching her silently — biting back a chuckle.
She muttered to herself, "This is a conspiracy. A planned attack. I bet Eman made all these guys sign up. I knew she was acting weird this week."
Then—
She sighed. Sat down on the sofa like the world had collapsed. "No. I'm not doing it."
He blinked. "Why?"
Though he asked it, he didn't hide the relief in his voice.
She groaned. "Because I won't be comfortable. That's why. I'm not doing it just to please people or pretend I'm fine. No."
Before he could say another word, she grabbed her phone and called her friend.
"Hello? Yeah. Cancel it. I'm not doing it. Remove my name from that list. I can't—won't be comfortable. That's it. Bye."
She hung up.
Dropped her head dramatically to the desk with a long, suffering sigh.
"…I was not made for this kind of fame," she mumbled into the wood.
He chuckled under his breath.
She looked up slowly and squinted at him. "Mr. Actor."
"Yes, little fox?"
"You have three days left here, right?"
He nodded. "Mm." His smile faded a little. "Just three."
She tilted her head slightly. "Did you enjoy Pakistan? Did you like Karachi… or did we make it hard for you to live peacefully?"
Her voice was gentle. Almost hesitant.
His eyes met hers.
And in a soft tone, low and genuine, he answered—
"How could it be hard when… you were here?"
Her lips parted slightly.
But before she could say anything, he added, quieter now:
"Even if I couldn't sleep the first night… I was already comfortable. Somehow."
She looked down for a second, lips curling into a smile she tried to hide.
"…It's because of the water cooler, huh?" she teased.
He smirked. "No. That was just a bonus."
She chuckled softly. But her smile didn't reach her eyes completely.
Because three days…
Suddenly felt too short.
And neither of them was ready.