Ara took a shaky breath, trying to ground herself.
> "Haphephobia?" she repeated, almost scoffing. "No, it's not that… It's not like that."
Taehyun raised an eyebrow, saying nothing—just watching her with the same calm, unreadable expression.
> "It was just an accident," she said quickly, brushing imaginary dust off her coat. "People get startled. That's normal."
> "Ara…"
> "Seriously. I'm fine." She forced a smile, too wide, too sharp. "You don't need to look at me like I'm about to fall apart."
Taehyun tilted his head slightly.
> "I wasn't."
> "Yes, you were," she muttered, narrowing her eyes. "You always do that."
> "Do what?"
> "That thing. That...soft-eyed, gentle, savior-of-the-damsel thing. It's weird."
Taehyun blinked. Then he smirked.
> "I don't think I've ever been called 'soft-eyed' before."
> "Well, now you have," she snapped, stepping back. "And stop following me."
> "I wasn't following you."
He paused, lips twitching.
"Okay, I was. But only because I saw you and thought you looked like you needed... someone."
> "Someone?" she echoed, folding her arms. "Why? You think you're some knight or something?"
> "No." He shrugged. "Knights wear armor. I'm just wearing a coat."
She let out an exasperated breath.
> "That's not the point."
> "Then what is?"
> "Why are you here? Why do you care?"
> "Because I want to," he said simply. "Is that so hard to believe?"
> "Yes!" she fired back. "We're not friends. We barely talk. And suddenly, you're catching me in the street like some K-drama lead?"
Taehyun grinned.
> "So I am the male lead now?"
> "Don't flatter yourself."
> "Too late. You named me."
> "I could've meant a second lead. The one who gets rejected."
> "Still counts. He usually gets the best lines."
She rolled her eyes and turned away.
> "I'm going home."
> "I'll walk you."
> "No, thank you."
> "I wasn't asking for permission," he said, already falling into step beside her.
> "You're unbelievable," she muttered.
> "I've been told that before."
She glanced at him, tone sharp.
> "Seriously, why are you doing this?"
> "Because I saw someone I care about struggling," he said. "And maybe I don't know everything, but I'm here."
Her pace faltered slightly. That word—care—lingered in her chest, unwelcome.
> "You don't even know me."
> "So?" he said. "Is that a rule now? You can't care unless there's a five-year contract signed in blood?"
> "You're strange."
> "You've said that before."
> "And stop calling me Ara," she snapped.
> "What should I call you then?"
> "Jeon."
> "Jeon?" he repeated, dramatically offended. "Cold. Harsh. Formal."
> "Exactly."
> "Alright then... Jeon," he said, drawing the name out like a joke. "Can I at least say it with a smile?"
> "No."
He nodded, lips twitching like he was enjoying himself far too much.
> "You know this doesn't mean we're friends, right?"
> "Sure."
> "And I'm not going to talk about my... stuff."
> "Okay."
> "And I'm still annoyed you followed me."
> "Fair."
> "And stop looking at me like I'm... fragile."
He chuckled softly.
> "You're the least fragile person I've met."
Her steps faltered again—but she didn't comment. He noticed.
> "I mean, you're scary when you're mad. That counts for something."
> "I hate you."
> "Now that's the Jeon I know."
And with that, they kept walking—side by side.
Not friends.
Not strangers.
Not anything that could be named.
Just two people, too stubborn to explain the silence between them.
They walked in silence.
The air between them felt thick—not with words left unsaid, but with the weight of everything Ara didn't want to say.
Why is he following me?
She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking at her. His gaze was straight ahead, hands tucked in his coat pockets, steps calm and even. Like he belonged there—beside her.
What does he want?
What's his intention?
Her thoughts spiraled, heart pulsing beneath layers of defensiveness.
She couldn't let her guard down—not again.
Not when she still carried the ghost of a moment that stole her safety, her trust.
She had been a victim once.
And once was enough to never trust easily again.
But… still...
Taehyun didn't feel like danger.
He wasn't pushy. He wasn't loud. He didn't demand.
Just... there.
She glanced at him again, this time longer. The black suit he wore clung perfectly to his lean frame, sharp and clean-cut—like he had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. His dark hair slightly tousled, collar loosened just enough to seem effortless.
Even now, walking down a quiet street, girls turned their heads when he passed. Some even giggled, whispering to each other. Ara's brow twitched.
Of course. Of course he looks like this.
Annoying.
Too put together.
Too charming.
Too calm.
Her fists clenched inside her coat sleeves.
And then... her thoughts shifted.
Wait.
Isn't he close to Arianna?
The image surfaced in her mind—Taehyun and Arianna sitting across from each other at a café. Smiling. Talking like they'd known each other for years.
Is this some game? Is she using him to mock me? To dig into me in ways I can't react to?
Ara's chest tightened. She hated how the thought even made her pause, how it hurt in places she thought had already scarred over.
She didn't speak. Didn't ask. She just kept walking.
Eventually, they reached the familiar street. Her gate stood just ahead—comforting, distant, like a border she wanted to cross alone.
She stopped.
Taehyun did too.
He looked at her, still saying nothing.
She didn't want to thank him. He followed her. He interrupted her space.
And yet...
> "Thanks," she muttered stiffly, not meeting his eyes.
Taehyun raised an eyebrow.
> "Wow," he said, teasing. "Did Ara Jeon just say thank you? Should I write this down?"
Her jaw clenched.
She burst out in her mind.
Unbelievable. Un-freaking-believable.
But she breathed through it, forcing herself to stay composed.
She glanced at his suit again. Curiosity won over irritation.
> "You look like you were somewhere fancy," she muttered. "Why... did you even follow me if you were busy?"
He blinked.
> "I was at dinner."
> "With?"
A beat passed. And then—
> "Arianna. Childhood friend."
Ara froze.
Her fingers curled tighter into her coat sleeves.
> "Oh." It slipped out, colder than she meant it to.
Her mind raced—every sharp corner of her past with Arianna flashing like static. The whispers. The looks. The humiliation.
> Of course.
Of course it was her.
She didn't say anything else.
And Taehyun didn't explain.
He just stood there, still beside her.
Unmoving.
Unbothered.
Too calm.
And somehow… still there.
Taehyun's eyes narrowed slightly, as if catching something behind Ara's calm facade.
> "Hey," he said softly, voice low enough to pull her attention, "do you… know Arianna?"
Ara's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her voice steady.
> "No… I've just heard about Arianna at university. She's pretty popular in the Fashion major."
Inside, her mind screamed louder.
Yes, I know her. We used to be best friends... until everything fell apart. We became rivals in high school, especially after that modeling race in 2014. That was the year everything changed...
She clenched her fists, swallowing the bitter memories.
Ara gave a curt nod, her voice clipped.
> "Goodbye, Taehyun."
She pivoted sharply, stepping toward her house, the familiar creak of the gate underfoot the only sound for a moment. The streetlights cast long shadows around them, the cool night air settling between the two like an unspoken barrier.
Just as she reached the gate and was about to step inside, Taehyun's voice cut through the quiet.
> "How about lunch together at university tomorrow?"
Ara's heart skipped, disbelief flashing through her mind. Lunch? With him?
She spun back around, eyes flashing as she shot him a sharp, frustrated glare.
> "Are you serious? We're not even friends. Why would you ask me that?"
Taehyun's expression softened, but a playful spark lingered in his eyes. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
> "I just want to be your art partner. Like the last project."
Ara folded her arms, leaning slightly against the gate, unimpressed.
> "You're not even in the art department—you're fashion. Why suddenly want to partner with me?"
He shrugged casually, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
> "Collaboration. Sometimes different perspectives make the best work."
Her gaze sharpened, suspicion flaring beneath her calm exterior.
> "Did Arianna tell you to follow me? Put you up to this?"