(Next day)
The last bell had already rung, but the classroom still buzzed with lazy chatter. Some students packed up fast, rushing to beat the cafeteria lines or sprint to the bus stop. Others dragged their feet, gossiping by the windows.
I lingered at my desk by the window, chin propped on my hand. Outside, the autumn sun was already tilting, soft and golden. My notebook lay open in front of me, but my mind hadn't been on the scribbles of math problems for a while.
Not since this morning.
Ha-neul sat beside me, quiet as always, his bag already zipped up neatly on his desk. He didn't fidget, didn't doodle, didn't waste movements the way everyone else did. He just… sat there, back straight, gaze unfocused somewhere out the window. Like he belonged to a world no one else could see.
And I was still stuck in the real one, fighting the urge to look at him every other second.
"Library, after school."
Na-yeon's voice snapped me out of it. She was at the front of the room, hands planted on her hips like she was announcing a field trip. Her brown ponytail swished as she turned toward us. "We're doing a group study session. No excuses."
"Why are you making it sound like military orders?" Ji-hyun muttered, deadpan as always, but he didn't argue.
Soo-min, of course, perked up instantly. She leaned back in her chair and grinned. "As long as Eun-ji's going, I'm in."
Eun-ji groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Why me?"
"Because you're cute when you get flustered," Soo-min shot back smoothly.
I watched Eun-ji swat at her, cheeks pink, while Na-yeon rolled her eyes and Ji-hyun sighed like he'd aged ten years in thirty seconds. Same routine, different day.
Ha-neul, though, didn't move. He just glanced at Na-yeon and said, simply, "Fine."
That was it. One word, but it sealed it. The rest of us didn't have room to object now.
And maybe… I didn't want to.
---
The library smelled faintly of dust and polished wood when we arrived. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, pooling onto the long tables and shelves stacked with more books than I'd ever touch in my life. The silence was heavy but comforting, broken only by the soft scrape of chairs and the occasional whisper of a page turning.
We found a corner table near the back, tucked between shelves where the lamps glowed dimly. It wasn't hidden, but it felt private enough.
"Alright," Na-yeon said, slamming her books onto the table with way too much energy for a library. "Let's actually get something done."
Ji-hyun, ever practical, was already unpacking. "You're the one who needs to get something done. Your math grade—"
"Shh!" Na-yeon hissed, eyes darting around like the librarians would drag her out. "Not so loud."
Soo-min smirked. "Don't worry, Na-yeon. Eun-ji will help you."
"I didn't say that," Eun-ji shot back immediately, cheeks already tinting pink.
"You didn't have to," Soo-min said, leaning in with a mischievous grin. "I'll help you too. But only if you sit next to me."
Eun-ji sputtered, hugging her notebook to her chest like it was a shield. "I'll sit wherever I want."
Na-yeon groaned dramatically. "This is going to be chaos…"
While they bickered, I slid into a chair on the far side of the table. Ha-neul sat across from me, directly in my line of sight. He opened his textbook without hesitation, flipping to the assigned chapter, and began underlining key points with calm precision.
I tried to focus on my own notes, but every time I glanced up, his face was right there. The pale slope of his cheek catching the lamp light. The faint furrow of his brow as he concentrated. His lips pressing together whenever he paused to think.
I swallowed hard and bent over my notebook, scribbling nonsense just to look busy.
---
For a while, the table settled into a rhythm. Na-yeon muttered under her breath while Ji-hyun explained formulas with deadpan patience. Eun-ji tried to focus, but Soo-min kept leaning over, whispering jokes into her ear until Eun-ji shoved her away with a stifled laugh.
And then there was Ha-neul—silent, steady, efficient.
I don't know how long I spent pretending to study before his voice, low and even, cut through the quiet.
"You're holding your pen wrong."
I froze. His blue eyes flicked up, meeting mine across the table. My heart jumped like I'd been caught doing something illegal.
"H-huh?"
"Your grip," he said, gesturing faintly. "It's awkward. You'll get tired faster."
I looked down. Sure enough, my hand was clenched around the pen like I was about to stab the page. Heat crawled up my neck.
"Oh. Uh… thanks." I shifted my hold, clumsily copying the way he held his.
"Better," he said simply, and went back to his notes.
Just like that. Like he hadn't just set my entire chest on fire.
---
Time blurred. Equations, diagrams, Na-yeon's complaints, Soo-min's relentless teasing—it all swirled into background noise. But every so often, Ha-neul would speak. Short, precise comments.
"Wrong formula."
"You skipped a step."
"Check the example."
Not much. But every word from him carried weight, sharp and steady. And every time his gaze flicked toward me, my throat went dry.
At one point, our hands brushed as we both reached for the same eraser. It was a split-second, skin against skin, but it jolted through me like electricity. I yanked my hand back, mumbling something incoherent.
Ha-neul didn't flinch. He just slid the eraser toward me without a word.
But I saw it—the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.
A ghost of a smile.
And somehow, that tiny crack in his armor felt like the loudest thing in the room.
---
By the time the sun dipped lower, painting the library windows in orange light, our books were scattered with notes and half-finished problems. Na-yeon stretched with a loud groan. "Okay, my brain is fried."
"You only solved three problems," Ji-hyun deadpanned.
"That's three more than usual!" she shot back.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion settling in. My eyes drifted across the table again—straight to Ha-neul.
He was still writing, calm and focused, as if the noise around him didn't touch him at all. But when he finally looked up, his gaze landed on me without hesitation.
And I couldn't look away.
The library was quiet, but inside me, everything was unbearably loud.