ENHYEOK POV
"JIAAH, WATCH OUT!"
I hear it before I even process it.
I'm finishing my own crunches, sitting up slow, grabbing my water bottle because my throat feels like dust. The sun is too bright. My head is too loud. I just want five seconds without her voice echoing inside it.
Then the shout hits my ears again—
sharper.
Urgent.
I look up.
A ball is flying.
Fast.
Straight at—
Shit.
It slams into her face so hard I hear the impact from here.
The water bottle slips out of my hand.
Hits the ground.
Rolls.
I don't even watch where it goes.
My legs move first.
Running.
Too fast.
Too automatic.
Too… instinct.
The field gallery is far from the court but I'm already halfway across the grass before I realize what I'm doing. My chest feels tight. Not out of breath—just something else I don't want to name.
Then I see someone else.
Someone faster.
Someone already sprinting toward her like his life depends on it.
Baek Jiho.
Of course.
He reaches her way before I do.
Almost throws himself onto the steps to get to her, face full of panic, hands out like he's afraid she'll fall apart if he touches her wrong.
My legs slow down.
Just a little at first.
Then more.
Then completely.
Because what am I even doing?
Why the hell am I running?
She's fine.
She always is.
She's loud, annoying, chaotic, unbreakable.
She doesn't need me.
And she definitely doesn't want me.
I stand there, halfway between the court and the gallery, watching the scene unfold like some pathetic extra in a drama.
She's sitting there with a tissue stuffed against her nose, eyes wide, tears clinging to her lashes, cheeks turning pink—not from pain, no—from embarrassment.
Or—
No.
Not embarrassment.
I know that look.
It's the same one she makes whenever he breathes near her.
Her gaze is locked on Jiho like the ball knocked her straight into a fantasy.
He's crouched down in front of her, voice low, hand hovering near her shoulder, expression full of worry like she's something fragile.
I look at her face.
Then his.
Then hers again.
And something in my chest does this tight, stupid twist that I immediately ignore.
She likes him.
She always has.
She confessed to him six times like she had nothing to lose.
And she still looks at him like that.
Like he's something warm.
Safe.
Worth staring at.
I watch her cheeks turn even pinker when he touches the tissue near her nose to check if she's okay.
She doesn't flinch.
She doesn't complain.
She doesn't call him "bro."
She just… looks at him.
Soft.
Hopeful.
Pathetic.
My jaw clenches before I can stop it.
It's reflex.
I inhale once, sharp.
Annoyed at myself.
Annoyed at my own legs for running like an idiot.
Annoyed that I even cared for half a second.
She doesn't need me.
She has him.
And she's happy to have him there.
Good.
Great.
Perfect.
I turn around.
Walk back across the field with steady steps, face blank, shoulders loose, like I didn't almost sprint across the whole damn school for no reason.
Let her have her stupid little crush moment.
_____________________________
Jiah pov
---
Jiho.
In front of me.
Staring at me.
Like actually staring. At me. Not through me. Not past me. Not the usual "oh god not this girl again" avoidance mode he has down to a science.
My brain is… blank.
No, worse.
Like someone unplugged the whole system and then tried to reboot it with a fork.
I'm sitting on the step with a tissue shoved up my nose like some Victorian ghost who overdosed on Vicks, and he's just—there. Suddenly. In my face. Blocking the sun.
Wait.
Why is he crouching??
Why is Baek Jiho—literal campus angel boy, my humiliation hobby—CROUCHING in front of me like I'm important enough to be at eye level??
His hand hovers near my nose.
Like hovers.
Like he's scared he'll accidentally break me if he touches me wrong.
Oh hell no—my cheeks are heating.
No.
No.
Stop.
Stop it.
I am not blushing over a nose injury. That's so embarrassing I might actually pass away.
"Are you okay?" he says, voice all soft and gentle and concerned which is NOT fair because I am already mentally on the floor.
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Not even a croak.
My tongue is just chilling like, "nah bro we're off duty."
WHAT.
THE.
FUCK.
Baek Jiho is talking to me and it's not to reject me.
It's not "I'm sorry, I don't feel that way."
It's not "please stop confessing."
It's not "I think of you as a friend" even though we're not even friends.
He's asking me if I'm okay like I'm some damsel who matters.
My heart is doing… something suspicious.
Wiggling?
Vibrating?
Attempting a criminal act?
He squints a little. "Does it hurt?"
I shake my head instantly.
Lie.
Big lie.
Massive lie.
It hurts like HELL. I can feel my heartbeat in my nostrils. I probably look like I fought a brick wall and lost.
But no way in hell am I admitting pain in front of him.
He glances at the tissue, then back at me, jaw tightening like he's the one hurting. "Come on," he says softly. "Let's go to the nurse."
Huh?
Sorry?
Come WHERE???
I blink at him, shocked.
Like full body shocked.
Static electricity but emotional.
What is happening??
Why is he behaving like this??
Why is he being nice all of a sudden??
Who switched him out with a limited edition kind-hearted version?
He extends a hand toward me.
A. HAND.
His hand.
Long fingers. Clean nails. Slight calluses. Veins. Actual veins. Oh my god. I suddenly understand every Wattpad girl who wrote 30 chapters about a hand.
I stare at it.
Then at his face.
Then back at the hand.
My brain is like:
Thank you universe.
Thank you god.
Thank you to whoever threw that damn ball at my face.
I would kiss them if my nose wasn't dying.
My palm slides into his slowly, like I'm touching a museum artifact I'm scared to break, and holy shit—he's warm. Like stupidly warm. Like "I suddenly understand why people faint in romance dramas" warm.
He helps me up carefully, his other hand hovering near my elbow like I'm fragile glass and I swear my soul just left my body to look at this scene from above like GIRL WHAT.
We start going down the steps.
Slow.
Careful.
His grip steady like he's escorting royalty and not a chaotic gremlin with tissue jammed up her face.
He keeps glancing at me every few seconds, making sure I'm steady, making sure I don't miss a step, and every time he looks my chest does this weird little kick.
Why is he being so gentle??
Why now??
Why me??
A stupid thought pushes itself into my skull before I can stop it.
Does Jiho…
Did he…
Start to like me??