Chapter 24
It started like any other rainy evening—gray sky, empty halls, the smell of paint thick in the air.
But I should've known better by now.
Nothing ever stayed ordinary when Soo-min was around.
---
The Studio
The art room was half-lit when I entered. Brushes clinked in jars, the faint sound of rain tapping against the window. Everyone else had already gone home, but I couldn't.
I told Yura I just needed "a little more time to finish this piece."
In truth, I just needed quiet—somewhere my thoughts about Soo-min wouldn't be so loud.
It had been weeks since everything between us finally cleared up, and yet… I couldn't stop noticing her.
The way she leaned back when she laughed.
The way her voice softened whenever she said my name.
And lately, every time she smiled, something in me stumbled.
---
I was halfway through blending a streak of gold when a familiar voice came from the doorway.
"You're still here?"
My heart jumped before my mind registered it. Soo-min stood there, one hand in her jacket pocket, her hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside.
"I could ask you the same," I said, trying to sound casual.
She walked in, that teasing half-smile tugging at her lips. "I was going to clean up my brushes. But apparently, someone's working overtime."
"I just wanted to fix this part before I forget the color mix."
She glanced at my canvas, then back at me. "You said that two hours ago."
I blinked. "Have you been keeping track?"
"Maybe," she said with a shrug that was way too smug.
I rolled my eyes to hide the way my pulse skipped. "Stalker behavior, Soo-min."
"Artist's concern," she corrected easily, leaning against the table. "You look tired."
"I could say the same," I shot back, but the warmth behind her gaze made my voice soften. "You should rest too."
She smiled. "Not until you do."
---
The Rain
Thunder rumbled softly, and we both turned toward the window. Rain had begun to pour harder, streaking the glass in silver lines.
I sighed. "Guess I'm stuck here until it slows down."
"Guess you are," she said, and something in her tone made my stomach flutter.
When I looked at her again, the glow from the desk lamp painted her skin in amber and gold. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
---
The Power Outage
Then, without warning, the lights flickered once—twice—and went out completely.
"Ah!" I yelped. "No, no, no—"
A soft laugh came from the dark. "Relax, it's just a power cut."
Easy for her to say. She was probably grinning.
I heard footsteps, then a faint click. Light bloomed—a small circle from her phone's flashlight. It caught her face first, soft and close, and the sight hit me harder than I expected.
"Better?" she asked.
"Yeah," I breathed. "Thanks."
"Don't worry," she teased. "I'll protect you from the scary blackout."
I nudged her knee. "Please. You'd probably trip over a chair first."
She laughed quietly, and somehow, the dark didn't feel so intimidating anymore.
---
Close Quarters
We ended up sitting side by side on the floor, backs against the wall, the phone flashlight placed between us. The light flickered against her face, tracing the curve of her cheek, the small mole near her jawline I'd noticed too many times.
I didn't know what to say. Every normal word—every safe, friendly phrase—felt too small for what was sitting in my chest.
So I asked softly, "Do you ever think about… how weird timing is?"
She turned to me, curious. "Timing?"
"Yeah. Like how we met, or how everything that almost ruined things between us somehow led to this moment."
Her gaze softened. "Yeah. I think about that more than I should."
"Do you regret any of it?" I whispered.
She shook her head. "Not a second."
The words hit me like a heartbeat. I looked down, afraid to meet her eyes again because if I did, she might see everything I'd been hiding.
But she said my name then—softly, like a secret.
"Eun-ji."
And when I looked up, she was already closer than I remembered.
---
The Kiss
It wasn't supposed to happen like that.
There wasn't a plan or a pause or some cinematic buildup.
It was just a moment where everything I'd been trying not to feel finally spilled over.
I leaned forward before I could stop myself—hesitant, trembling—and kissed her.
Her lips were warm, soft, tasting faintly of coffee and rain. For a split second, I panicked, thinking I'd made a mistake.
Then she kissed me back.
Gentle at first, then deeper, sure. Her hand found my cheek, thumb brushing away the paint smudge she'd teased me about earlier.
The rain outside roared louder, like it was trying to drown out my heartbeat. But all I could hear was her—her breath, her laugh against my lips when we broke apart too fast and collided again.
When we finally pulled away, both of us were smiling. Breathless. Flustered. Happy.
"Wow," I said dumbly. "That—um—was—"
"Yeah," she murmured, grinning. "It was."
We both laughed quietly, like we'd just committed the smallest, sweetest kind of crime.
---
After the Storm
The power flickered back on minutes later, flooding the room with light. The normalcy of it almost made me laugh again.
Soo-min looked at me, cheeks pink but eyes steady. "So…"
"So," I echoed, still breathless.
"Does this mean I can finally stop pretending I don't like you?"
I blinked, startled—and then laughed, feeling the blush burn across my face. "You were pretending?"
She smirked. "Badly."
I wanted to say something equally witty, but the only thing that came out was, "Good. Because I'm tired of pretending too."
Her smile softened, the teasing melting into something tender. "Then we're done pretending."
---
Walking Home
When the rain slowed to a drizzle, she walked me back. The air smelled like wet earth and night-blooming flowers. Our hands brushed once, twice—until finally, she caught mine and didn't let go.
Neither of us said much. We didn't need to.
The world felt smaller, warmer. Like it was built just big enough for two.
Halfway to the dorms, Yura texted me:
> "Where are you? I'm starving. Bring snacks or suffer."
I snorted. "Yura's threatening me again."
"She's consistent," Soo-min said. "Tell her you were busy."
"With what?" I teased, though my voice wavered when she looked at me—really looked.
"Me," she said simply.
I bit back a smile. "Cocky much?"
"Confident," she corrected. "There's a difference."
I shook my head, laughing quietly, but didn't let go of her hand.
---
At the Door
When we reached my dorm, I hesitated, the night suddenly feeling too short.
"Thanks for walking me," I said. "And… everything."
She smiled softly. "Anytime."
I turned to unlock the door—but before I could, she leaned in again.
Her lips brushed mine in a quick, sure kiss—no hesitation this time.
"Goodnight, Eun-ji," she murmured.
"G-goodnight," I stammered, trying not to sound like my heart was breaking into fireworks.
She grinned and walked away, hands in her pockets, rain glistening on her hair.
---
That Night
Back inside, Yura was asleep, one earbud hanging out. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of rain.
I sat by the window, staring at the silver bracelet around my wrist—the one she'd given me for my birthday.
It glimmered faintly in the moonlight, and I touched it absentmindedly, smiling to myself.
Everything that used to feel heavy now felt light.
Everything that used to hurt now felt like the start of something soft and real.
I leaned my forehead against the cold glass and whispered,
"Maybe I wasn't just flustered all this time…"
A small laugh escaped me.
"Maybe I was falling."