It was a quiet holiday morning in Seoul. The air smelled faintly of rain, though the sun hung warm and heavy over the city's rooftops. Classes were cancelled for the day, and most students had either gone home or buried themselves in cafes and dorm rooms.
Hana had woken late, grateful for the rare day without alarms and schedules.
After a lazy breakfast and a few messages exchanged with Chae-Rin, she agreed to visit her best friend's house for lunch — a simple gathering, nothing fancy. The familiar warmth of Chae-Rin's family home had always been a comforting place for her.
The house was nestled in a cozy residential street not far from the campus. Small gardens lined the sidewalks, and the sound of birds and distant traffic gave the neighbourhood a peaceful hum.
As Hana arrived, Chae-Rin greeted her at the gate, waving her over with a grin.
"Perfect timing. My mom's making seafood pancake."
"Tell her I love her already," Hana laughed.
They chatted easily as they headed inside, the sun filtering through the trees.
It wasn't until Hana happened to glance across the street that she froze mid-sentence.
Opposite Chae-Rin's house, a small, modest rental home stood with its gate slightly ajar. The curtains in the front window were drawn halfway, but just enough for her to catch a glimpse of someone inside.
Aryan Malhotra.
But not in his usual sharp campus attire.
This was different.
His hair was damp, sticking slightly to his forehead as he moved through the room shirtless, a towel slung around his neck. His frame was lean but powerful — broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, muscles defined without being bulky, the kind of physique shaped by discipline rather than vanity.
And those abs… God. Eight-pack? Really?
Hana blinked, torn between shock and the immediate, involuntary flush of heat in her cheeks.
She quickly turned away, hoping neither Chae-Rin nor anyone else noticed the pink in her face.
But damn.
The image was already burned into her memory. There was something raw about it — not posed or self-conscious, just natural strength, like someone who carried it not to show off, but because they needed to.
And for a man so closed-off on campus, there was a surprising calm in the way he moved, like a predator at rest.
"Hana? You okay?" Chae-Rin asked, glancing back at her.
"Uh—yeah. Fine," Hana stammered, forcing a casual smile.
She chided herself silently.
What's wrong with you, girl?
But as they walked inside, Hana couldn't resist one last glance over her shoulder.
Aryan had disappeared from view, the curtain now fully drawn.
And yet, somehow, she felt like she wasn't the only one watching.