The library breathed a quiet sigh, the kind of silence that weighed heavy with possibility. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, catching the dust in golden ribbons, yet Ohm barely saw it. His gaze was tethered to Nanon, to the careless curl of hair that fell across his forehead, to the way his hands moved with that infuriating ease, as though the world were meant only for him to touch.
Hours passed in the haze of paper and ink, the clatter of pens like distant rain against the stillness. Nanon leaned too close, brushing a shoulder against Ohm's. A spark—lightning without warning—shot along Ohm's spine, a surge he was not prepared to name. He stiffened, jaw tight, heart stuttering, yet did not pull away. The warmth lingered, a quiet confession neither dared speak.
"You're quiet today," Nanon murmured, voice low, teasing, the edges of mischief softened by a fragile attentiveness. "Distracted?"
Ohm swallowed, resisting the pull of his gaze. Distracted? By him? Impossible. And yet, every subtle movement—the flick of Nanon's pen, the curve of his smile—seared itself into his consciousness. His chest ached with recognition, a storm trapped behind ribs, wild and unyielding.
Their hands brushed again, this time over the same notebook, fingers colliding with an intimacy that left Ohm flustered and breathless. He wanted to look away, to pretend indifference, yet the warmth lingered, teasing, insistent, unavoidable. Nanon's eyes caught his, a spark of acknowledgment hiding behind the veil of mischief.
"Careful," Ohm whispered, lips pressed tight. "I might…" The threat dissolved in the heat of the moment, swallowed by the storm inside him.
"I'd like to see you try," Nanon countered softly, and the words were not challenge, not jest—they were something heavier, something that hovered in the space between them like the hum of a silent storm.
Time stretched. Hours condensed into breaths, glances, touches. Each accidental brush, each fleeting proximity, etched a tension so sharp it hurt. And yet, beneath the tension, beneath the heat and the danger, there was curiosity, a fragile fascination blooming quietly, silently, dangerously.
The rain began outside, tapping against the tall windows, gentle at first, then insistent. Nanon's umbrella appeared, and they stepped into the drizzle, shoulders brushing, hearts thundering in unison neither dared to measure. The umbrella barely held them, the closeness forcing awareness, breathing mingling, heat rising.
"Being just friends…" Ohm breathed into the storm, the words barely audible even to himself. "…is impossible."
Nanon's lips curved into a small, almost tender smile. His chest rose and fell, a silent echo of confession. And I hate that I feel this, he thought, leaning subtly closer, yet daring not to speak it aloud.
The rain wrapped them in its hush, the storm outside reflecting the tempest within. Every brush of hair, every accidental touch, every glance held a weight neither could name. In the quiet, soaked world, enemies and friends collided, and something new, fierce and fragile, bloomed between them.
And neither moved away.