After an exhausting day of fest planning, Siya plopped onto the classroom bench like she'd just climbed Mount Fuji barefoot. Ren stood nearby, calmly noting down the names of students in each event.
Siya peeked up at him.
"You really won't stop being a workaholic, will you?"
He didn't answer, just handed her a pen. "Write down the dance group members. And try not to draw flowers this time."
Siya made a face but obeyed.
Just then, Sam peeked in from the corridor. "Guys, principal said the decoration committee can stay late today — he's allowing rooftop access for 'creative freedom' or whatever."
Siya gasped. "Rooftop?! At night? With fairy lights? Excuse me, THIS is my aesthetic."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "You're decorating, not making a Pinterest board."
She stuck her tongue out and grabbed her bag. "Let's go, Mr. Buzzkill."
🦋🦋🦋
Rooftop Under Fairy Lights
Later that evening, the rooftop glowed with warm lights tangled across the railings. The wind teased Siya's hair as she adjusted the paper lanterns. Ren stood nearby with a box of string lights tangled like his feelings.
They were the last two left. Sam had gone to get snacks… an hour ago.
Siya, still fiddling with a lantern, muttered, "You know… it's kinda beautiful up here."
Ren looked at her—not the lights, not the view—just her.
"You look tired," he said.
She turned to him. "Well, someone made me carry fifteen chairs and bossed me around all day."
He shrugged. "I only made you carry twelve. You're exaggerating again."
They both laughed. Then silence. A comfortable one.
He leaned back on the railing, the city lights dancing in his eyes.
Siya tilted her head. "You ever feel like… everything's loud down there, but here… everything just stops?"
Ren nodded slowly. "I like the quiet. It's easier to think."
"And what are you thinking now?" she teased, standing beside him.
He looked at her.
Dangerous. That's what this felt like. Too soft, too warm, too real.
He broke the gaze first. "That we should finish decorating."
She smirked. "Coward."
Ren glanced back at her, eyes narrowing just enough to give her that signature serious look. But then a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Bossy."
🦋🦋🦋
The rooftop was finally quiet. They had packed up the leftover fairy lights and tape, and now Ren was walking Siya home, their shadows stretching together in the soft streetlight glow.
Siya kicked a little stone on the road. "You know, today was kinda nice."
Ren nodded, hands in pockets. "Exhausting, but productive."
"And magical," she added with a dramatic sigh, "I mean… fairy lights, rooftop air, and your very enthusiastic chair-lifting face."
He rolled his eyes. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Never."
A beat passed.
Then she nudged him with her elbow. "Anyway, about the dance… I was thinking maybe we do something fun? Like a mashup? Maybe a duet?"
Ren's eyes gleamed with mischief. His tone, suddenly smooth. "No need to think too hard. We're doing salsa."
Siya blinked. "Salsa?"
He gave a slow, confident nod. "Yes. Close dance. Fast rhythm. Spins, dips…" He looked her straight in the eye, a smirk growing. "Perfect for… revenge."
"Revenge?" she narrowed her eyes.
"For announcing it to the teacher without warning me. Now you'll have to touch me. And follow my lead." He smirked wider, almost devilish.
She folded her arms. "What if I lead?"
He didn't hesitate. "Then we both fall."
She laughed, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're stuck with me now," he replied smugly, "so better start watching salsa tutorials, partner."
Just as they reached her house gate, he added with a wink, "Hope you don't mind a little… heat."
Siya stared at him, jaw slightly dropped. "Ren!?"
But he'd already turned away with a cheeky, "Goodnight~"
🦋🦋🦋
Ren's POV: Quiet Night, After Dropping Siya Home
I told myself I wouldn't.
Not again.
No chasing, no thinking, no waiting for someone to turn back and look at me. I've done that before. Waited like a fool. Smiled like it didn't hurt. Swallowed things I never said out loud just to not scare people away. And I promised myself — never again.
But here I am.
Walking home with a stupid smile on my face because she mentioned the dance again. Because she let me choose. And I picked salsa. God.
What am I even doing?
I know what this looks like — I'm doing the very thing I swore not to. Letting someone matter more than they should. Letting her laugh sit somewhere inside me longer than it should. Watching her talk about things that have nothing to do with me — and still thinking, damn, I could listen to this for hours.
And I hate it.
But… I also don't want to stop.
I don't want to push her away. Not yet. Not when it feels this light — this... alive.
So yeah, maybe I'll regret this someday. Maybe I'll end up exactly where I said I'd never return — standing in the dark, waiting for someone who doesn't feel the same.
But tonight?
Tonight, I'm still going to show up to that dance. I'm still going to hold her hand when the music starts.
Because even if I promised not to chase anyone...
For some reason, my feet keep walking toward her anyway.
🦋🦋🦋
Dance Practice
"Okay, Miss Self-Appointed Dance Captain," Ren said, arms crossed, eyebrows arched dramatically. "Show me your 'vision' for this salsa masterpiece. I'm dying to be dazzled."
Siya rolled her eyes so hard it could've caused a minor earthquake. "Please, Mr. Too-Cool-for-Coordination, just try to keep up. I already regret letting you choose salsa."
"Oh no," Ren said with mock shock. "Not the great Siya regretting something? Historic moment. Shall I alert the press?"
"Shut up and give me your hand."
Their fingers laced, and for a moment, it was too quiet. The music hadn't even started yet, and Ren could swear his pulse skipped. Or maybe tripped and fell face first, like it already knew what was coming.
They stepped into rhythm… or tried to.
Left foot… right elbow?
"OW—what the hell was that?!" Siya winced as their arms tangled like spaghetti noodles.
"Your face attacked my shoulder!" Ren snapped.
"Your foot assaulted my toe!"
They untwisted themselves like awkward vines and burst into laughter. That ridiculous, bent-over, gasping-for-air kind that only happens when nothing is going right but everything feels hilariously wrong.
"Okay, okay," Ren said, wiping his eyes. "Let's try again. But this time maybe don't trip over your own enthusiasm?"
Siya shoved his shoulder, laughing. "And maybe you can stop being allergic to rhythm?"
They tried again. And again.
Then—finally—their steps clicked. Their movements started syncing. He spun her; she twirled effortlessly into his arms, breathless. One step closer. Then another. Their faces… closer. Too close.
His hand pressed against her lower back, hers on his chest.
The music slowed.
And something shifted.
For a flicker of a second, their smiles faded into silence. The laughter softened. Eyes held eyes. Her lips parted, maybe to say something. His heartbeat did a double beat—just loud enough for him to hear.
And then—
"Excuse me!" someone called from the doorway. A junior student, holding a box of decorations. "Umm… do you guys know where to keep these streamers?"
They jumped apart like caught criminals.
Ren cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in adjusting his sleeves. Siya blinked rapidly, brushing her hair behind her ear as if that would smooth her racing pulse.
"Yeah," Ren mumbled, pointing vaguely. "Just… over there."
As the student walked away, Ren and Siya looked at each other.
Then back at the floor.
And then… laughed. Again.
Idiots.
Absolute idiots.
But maybe… just maybe… idiots who didn't mind dancing a little longer.
🦋🦋🦋
Siya's POV – Dance Practice
This was a mistake.
A massive, salsa-flavored, ego-wrapped mistake.
Who in their right mind lets Ren pick the dance style? Oh right, me, the genius who wanted revenge but is now being dragged into slow turns, sharp dips, and an increasingly obvious crush.
"Please, Mr. Too-Cool-for-Coordination," she muttered under her breath. "Try not to break my toe this time."
He smirked like he'd heard her. Of course, he probably had. Ren always noticed more than he let on. That was the problem.
And then—his hand touched hers.
Oh no.
No, no, no. Focus, Siya. You're not fourteen in a teen drama. You're in a school fest practice. With your classmate. Your rival. Your chaos buddy. Not your—
They stumbled. Again.
And again.
And again.
And yet, every time he messed up, she couldn't stop laughing. Every time they crashed into each other, it felt… effortless? Stupid. Dangerously fun.
At one point, their fingers locked, and it felt like… something rewired in her spine. Like the rhythm wasn't coming from the speakers anymore but from his damn heartbeat. Or worse, hers.
He twirled her—messy but confident—and her body curved back into his hands. Not smooth. Not perfect. But warm. Solid. Real.
And way too close.
Their eyes locked.
Oh god.
Why is he looking at me like that?
Why am I not looking away?
Her breath caught, suspended like a secret between them. And for a second—a single, dumb, fragile second—she thought he might say something. Or do something.
Her pulse thundered. Heat bloomed behind her ears. Her mouth opened—
"Excuse me!"
And poof. Just like that, the moment shattered like a dropped mirror.
Siya stepped back so fast she almost tripped. Her heart didn't get the memo, though. It kept dancing. All out of rhythm.
She glanced at him. He looked… weirdly serious. Then he muttered something to the junior and looked away.
Okay. Cool. Totally cool.
They finished the rest of the session, mostly in sarcastic jabs and awkward footwork. But something had definitely changed.
Later, as she untied her hair and packed her bag, her fingers trembled just a little.
Dancing with him was supposed to be payback.
So why did it feel like she'd just lost her balance for real?
🦋🦋🦋
The lights were dimmed slightly in the practice hall. Everyone was gathered, munching on chips, cold soda bottles sweating on the side tables, and loud opinions ready to be thrown like confetti. It was the "show us what you've got" moment. Siya and Ren were about to preview their salsa performance.
Siya shot Ren a crooked grin. "You ready, Mr. Mafia Swag?"
He adjusted his sleeves and rolled his eyes. "Born ready, Miss Firecracker."
The music started. Their bodies moved — not perfect, not polished — but there was chemistry. The steps still missed sometimes, Ren's hand once almost went too low, and Siya tripped lightly during a spin… but they both caught the rhythm just enough to make it look intentional. There was a tension in their distance, a teasing sort of friction, and unspoken something in every glance they dared not hold for long.
And then—
"By the way," Nina shouted mid-spin, hands cupped around her mouth, "you both look hot together!"
Without missing a beat, Siya twirled and said, deadpan:
"Of course, we're heaters. What else did you expect?"
The room exploded with laughter.
As the music ended and applause began, Siya took a step back… and her ankle slightly gave in. Not a dramatic fall — just a soft stagger. But before she could steady herself—
Ren was already there.
"Siya!" He caught her elbow, eyes scanning her face, a bottle of water in hand in literal seconds.
"Sit. Now. I told you not to twist too hard during that dip, why did you—? Are you okay? Can you move it? Is it swelling?"
Siya blinked. "Ren. I'm fine. I wore the wrong shoes. Chill."
But he wasn't chilling.
Not in his mind.
Ren's POV
Why did I choose salsa?
Why didn't I stop her earlier?
This is stupid. Stupid and selfish. I wanted to impress her. She wanted revenge. Great combo, huh? And now she could've hurt herself for what? Some glittery fest spotlight?
He watched her laughing off the concern, sipping water like nothing happened, but the way her fingers shook slightly didn't escape him.
I should've said no. Not to the dance, but to putting her through it. Ugh, she doesn't even know how much I was holding back from stopping everything.
---
While Ren brooded silently, Sam leaned toward Nina, smirking.
"So… what are you doing for the fest? Or just walking around looking expensive?"
Nina didn't even blink.
"I'm organizing three events, choreographing two dances, and managing the food stalls. What are you doing? Other than testing my patience?"
Sam blinked.
"…Okay, that was hot."
Back on the bench, Siya nudged Ren's shoulder.
"Stop glaring. My feet are fine. We've practiced so much; it's too late to switch plans now. The fest's in two days, Ren."
He opened his mouth to argue again — but she raised a brow, daring him.
He sighed. "Fine. But no more high spins. And you're wearing flats."
"Deal."
Their fingers brushed briefly as she stood again, steady this time.
Nobody said anything — but everyone saw everything.
That spark?
It wasn't subtle anymore......