Chapter 20
The week after my birthday felt strangely… lighter.
Not because everything had changed overnight, but because something inside me finally eased.
For the first time in a long while, Soo-min and I were back in sync.
We didn't need to say much; small things spoke louder — her teasing returning in subtle doses, her coffee mysteriously appearing on my desk before class, the way she'd text "eat lunch" when I skipped it to finish a sketch.
It wasn't the same as before the misunderstanding — it was softer, steadier, like we were both quietly learning to breathe again.
---
Morning Routine
Yura stretched loudly from her bed, yawning so hard I thought her jaw might crack.
"Why are you up so early again?" she groaned, squinting at me as I braided my hair.
"Habit," I said. "And the light's nice this time of morning."
"Liar," she said, flopping back down dramatically. "You're going to meet her, aren't you?"
I froze mid-motion. "Who?"
She cracked one eye open. "Soo-min. Obviously."
I turned red instantly. "We just have class together."
"Mm-hmm." Yura grinned into her pillow. "You've been smiling at your phone like a teenager in a drama."
"I have not!"
She sat up, hair sticking out in every direction. "Eun-ji, you literally giggled last night because she sent you a meme of a cat holding a paintbrush."
I covered my face with a groan. "I hate you."
"You love me~~," she sang, collapsing back into bed. "Go, Picasso. Make heart eyes at your muse."
---
At Campus
By the time I reached the art building, the courtyard buzzed with chatter. Students hurried between classes, balancing coffee cups and sketchboards.
And there she was — leaning against a bench under the ginkgo tree, brown hair catching the sunlight, phone in hand.
Soo-min looked up as I approached, a teasing smile forming. "You're on time today. Did Yura threaten you again?"
"Something like that."
She chuckled. "Good. I like punctual Eun-ji."
I rolled my eyes, pretending not to melt at the sound of her laugh.
We walked to class together — something we hadn't done in weeks. The silence between us wasn't awkward this time; it was comfortable. Familiar.
When we reached the lecture hall, she held the door open. "After class, want to grab lunch?"
I blinked. "Lunch?"
"Yeah. Just us. There's a new cafe near the main gate — Yura said their pastries are dangerous."
I tried not to smile too obviously. "Okay. Lunch sounds nice."
---
The Cafe
The café turned out to be small and quiet, with big windows and plants everywhere. We took a corner table by the window, sunlight spilling across the wooden surface.
Soo-min ordered iced lattes for both of us without asking — she remembered my favorite.
As we waited, she leaned back, stretching. "It's been a while since we just… hung out like this."
"It has," I said, stirring my straw absentmindedly. "I missed it."
Her eyes flickered up to mine — soft, unreadable. "Yeah. Me too."
The drinks arrived, and conversation drifted easily — assignments, Yura's latest chaotic idea to form a dance club, Hye-jin's rant about lazy group partners, Mirae's endless patience balancing them all.
It felt good. Normal. But under the laughter, there was a quiet current between us — something unspoken but very much alive.
When I glanced at her, she was already looking at me. Neither of us looked away for a few seconds too long.
"Um," I said quickly, focusing on my drink. "This café's nice."
She smiled, amused. "It is."
---
The Studio
That afternoon, I stayed behind in the art room to finish a project. The place was almost empty — soft music from someone's phone, brushes clinking in water jars.
I was sketching details when a familiar voice spoke behind me.
"You never stop working, do you?"
I turned to see Soo-min leaning against the doorframe, her jacket slung over one arm.
"You came back?" I asked, surprised.
"I forgot my notebook." She walked over, setting it on a nearby desk. "But also… I thought I'd walk you back."
"You don't have to."
"I know." She smiled. "I want to."
My heart stuttered, but I nodded and packed my things.
As we left the room, I caught a glimpse of the sunset through the tall windows — streaks of orange and pink melting together.
"Pretty," I murmured.
"Yeah," she said, not looking at the sky. "It is."
---
Walk Back to Dorm
The air outside was cool, the faint scent of autumn leaves swirling around us. We walked side by side, our footsteps in rhythm.
"Hey," she said suddenly, "thanks for giving me another chance."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"For… everything. I know I messed up before. With the rumors, with avoiding you. I thought I was protecting you, but I just made things worse."
Her tone was low, sincere. It hit deeper than I expected.
"You don't have to explain," I said softly. "We both got hurt. But I'm just… glad we're okay now."
She smiled faintly, hands in her pockets. "You're too forgiving."
"Maybe. Or maybe I just know when something's worth keeping."
She stopped walking, looking at me for a moment — really looking. The kind of gaze that makes your lungs forget how to work.
"Then I hope you keep me," she said, almost teasing but not quite.
I didn't trust my voice, so I just smiled instead.
---
Dorm Hallway
When we reached the dorm building, Yura's voice echoed from inside. "Eun-ji! Finally! I've been starving—wait, Soo-min's here?"
Soo-min raised a brow. "Am I not allowed?"
Yura grinned mischievously. "Oh, you're always allowed. Especially if you bring snacks."
"I did," Soo-min said calmly, pulling a box from her bag.
"Marriage material," Yura declared, snatching it.
I smacked her arm, mortified. "Stop embarrassing me!"
Soo-min only laughed, clearly enjoying my misery. "Don't stop, Yura. It's cute."
I turned red instantly. "Both of you, out!"
They laughed harder.
Eventually, Yura retreated to her bed with her snacks, leaving me and Soo-min near the door.
Soo-min's gaze softened again. "Good night, Eun-ji."
"Night," I said, my voice small.
She paused. "And… happy late birthday again."
Before I could respond, she reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from my face — quick, almost hesitant — then stepped back and left down the hall.
I stood there long after the door closed, heart thudding so hard it hurt.
Yura's muffled voice came from her bed. "You're smiling again."
I laughed quietly, pressing a hand to my cheek.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I guess I am."
---
That night, I couldn't sleep for a long time.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw her smile under the soft glow of sunset — and for once, it didn't feel confusing.
It just felt right.