Chapter 2: "The Way He Smiles"
"My innocent Kit," she whispered.
That name.
That cursed name.
The word sliced through him like a bullet.
She used to say it with love.
Now it felt like a death sentence.
Flashback 3 Years Ago
"Give me two spring potatoes?" Killian said with a cheerful grin, handing over a crumpled note to the old man at the food truck.
The man looked up, recognizing that smile.
It wasn't just a smile.
It was that kind of smile—the kind that made the air around him feel a little warmer. The kind that belonged to someone who hadn't yet tasted cruelty. Who still believed in small joys. Who still ran to people when they called.
Killian's face was glowing with happiness.
Too happy.
The kind of happy that feels like you're flying, even though your feet are still on the ground.
He wore his usual attire—an oversized grey tee half-tucked into baggy dark jeans, a small crossbody sling bag hanging lazily off his shoulder. His hair was a messy storm that somehow always looked right on him. Effortless. Just like his smile.
He bounced lightly on his feet, humming under his breath as the scent of rain lingered in the air. It was a cloudy day. The sky looked like it was holding back tears.
Just like someone else he knew.
His phone buzzed.
He pulled it out of his jeans pocket and looked at the screen—
Lili.
And just like that, his grin widened even more.
He picked up the call, voice soft, warm—like a whispered lullaby.
"Hello?"
On the other side, her voice came sharp. Serious. Unapologetic.
"I want you to meet me. The place where we used to meet," she said.
No softness.
No reason.
Just a command.
"Right now."
It wasn't a request. It was an order.
He paused for a fraction of a second, then whispered,
"Okay," and cut the call.
His heart was already racing.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Every time she spoke to him like that—firm, fierce, like a lioness giving instructions to her cub—he felt a strange kind of thrill in his chest.
He adored that side of her. That boldness. That fire. That sense of control.
She was everything he wasn't.
Where he was gentle, she was untamed.
Where he gave in, she stood tall.
Where he hesitated, she decided.
He was simplicity.
She was chaos wrapped in beauty.
And somehow… that was the exact reason he loved her.
His thoughts were broken by the old man's voice.
"Your two spring potatoes," the vendor said, handing over the hot snack wrapped in crisp white paper.
Killian smiled again—wider this time. He bowed slightly, paid him, and thanked him sincerely.
The vendor couldn't help but return the smile.
That kind of innocence.
That kind of purity.
That kind of rare energy you just wanted to protect, even if you didn't know why.
It started drizzling. Soft droplets from the grey clouds above.
Killian immediately slipped the food into his bag—carefully, almost protectively—like it was something precious. He zipped it up tight, shielding it from the rain and the cold.
She liked it warm.
And he would do anything to keep it warm—just the way she liked.
Then he ran.
Because she said "Right now."
And when she says something, it means something.
He didn't want to be late.
Not even by a minute.
---
Fifteen minutes later.
Killian stood in front of the old "Professor's Rest Room"—
A forgotten part of the campus.
An abandoned building behind the main blocks.
No one used it anymore.
It carried memories and dust, both thick and silent.
But for them…
This place was sacred.
He adjusted his shirt nervously, pushed open the creaky door, and stepped in.
The air inside was stale, yet strangely familiar.
She was already there.
Sitting on the old sofa, arms crossed.
Looking at him.
Not blinking.
Not smiling.
Just looking.
He tried to walk in calmly, but his nervousness was bubbling up like soda in a shaken bottle.
His voice cracked slightly, but his smile didn't fade.
"Sorry… I didn't mean to be late. I got held up."
He pulled out the food packet from his bag and gently placed it on the dusty table in front of her.
"Got your favorite… Thought you'd be hungry."
She said nothing.
Just kept watching him.
As if observing.
Measuring.
Analyzing.
His heart thudded again—louder this time.
Was something wrong?
He sat beside her, trying to stay composed even though his palms were damp with sweat.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
She hadn't even touched the packet.
Not even glanced at it.
To break the silence, he spoke.
"I saw Jiwa and Hins today… I think they're dating. Or maybe they don't know it yet. But something's definitely going on."
Still no reaction from her.
He continued, trying to smile.
"I saw Hins fighting with a classmate who said something awful about her. Like—really awful. I was about to jump in, but… before I could, he already punched the guy."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"And you know me—I can't fight. But that moment? It felt so real. So raw. He didn't even hesitate."
Finally, her voice came.
Low. Soft. Unreadable.
"So… you think he loves her?"
"Yeah. I do," Killian nodded.
"I saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at her. Like she was everything."
Silence.
Then she spoke again—
Her gaze unreadable, her voice sharper.
"You see things wrong, Kil."
"No," he replied, eyes soft but sure.
"I see things right. Just like I see love in your eyes."
That did something.
She smiled.
But not the kind he liked.
It was the kind of smile you wear before you stab someone.
Sad. Distant.
Like something was already dead, and he was the last to know.
She stood up.
And like always—
She didn't ask.
She commanded.
"I want a break up."
The words weren't loud.
But they thundered louder than any storm outside.
His heart—
stopped.
His lips parted, but no words came out.
His brain refused to process.
His world had no warning signs.
No hints.
No signs on the road.
It was like crashing into glass—
Shards of confusion cutting deep.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
She was calm.
Too calm.
Like she had rehearsed this moment.
Like it didn't hurt her to say it.
Like she had already said goodbye to him inside her head, long before she said it aloud.
But why?
Why now?
Why him?
He was too pure.
Too simple.
Too full of dreams.
He loved her without questions.
Without expectations.
And yet…
She wanted to leave.
---
Will he be able to bear it?
Will they break up?
But the bigger question—
If his love was that pure… why did she want to break it?