The walk to her house was quieter than the journey from the café. Not awkward, but thoughtful, filled with the kind of silence that was heavy with meaning yet easy to breathe in. Their hands remained loosely intertwined, fingers brushing occasionally, testing the boundaries, not wanting to let go but unsure how much closeness was allowed. Every step felt measured, both aware of the world around them yet lost in the space that existed between them.
Yunho slowed his pace as they reached her street. His thumb traced slow circles along the back of her hand, almost imperceptible but deliberate. Bella noticed, and her chest skipped a beat. She dared a glance up at him. His face was relaxed, calm, but his jaw was set, as though he were holding something in, wrestling with his own thoughts. He did not speak, and neither did she. Words felt unnecessary for the moment.
When they reached her gate, he stopped. She did too.
The air around them felt suspended, soft and warm, heavy with unspoken tension and the residual heat from the café. The faint hum of the street and distant chatter faded into background noise. She did not know what to expect. A casual goodbye, another kiss, or some awkward joke to diffuse the tension?
Instead, Yunho stood there quietly, one hand still loosely holding hers, the other fidgeting with the strap of his bag. He glanced down at their joined hands, then toward her front door, and finally back at her.
"I don't really know how to end this," he admitted, voice low and quiet.
Bella let out a small, nervous laugh. "What, walking someone home?"
"No," he said, a little rougher now, almost a whisper. "This part. The part where I want to kiss you again, but I don't want to mess anything up."
Her heart stuttered at the confession. She could feel her fingers tightening around his hand, holding on just a little more deliberately. "You don't have to do anything," she murmured.
"I know," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "But I want to."
His usual confidence, the ease he carried into practice and into life, felt stripped away here. With Bella, nothing came easy. Not even the silences were simple. They were layered, filled with meaning, a language neither had to speak aloud to understand.
The light from her porch flickered softly above them, casting a warm glow on her face. Yunho's eyes traced the lines of her features, the soft sweep of her hair catching in the breeze, the way her lips parted slightly as she considered his words. Standing here, he wished he could pause time, to hold this fragment of evening forever.
"I like you, Bella," he said finally, words spilling before he could second-guess them. "I don't want this to get lost in all the school noise or swim stuff or… whatever else. Or awkwardness."
Her gaze lifted to meet his, steady and unwavering. Her lips parted, not to speak, but to listen, to receive the weight of what he said.
"You're not very smooth, are you?" she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"No," he admitted with a faint shrug. "I am really not."
Bella stepped back slightly toward the gate, her eyes soft but resolute. "Then let's not rush it. You walked me home. That's enough for tonight."
He nodded, though a tight knot formed in his chest. "Right. Okay," he said, voice low.
She hesitated, then leaned forward just enough to brush her forehead lightly against his. It was not a kiss, not a promise, yet it carried a quiet intimacy, the kind that made him catch his breath without realising it.
"See you tomorrow, boyfriend," she whispered, almost secretive, her words brushing against him as softly as her forehead had.
Then she slipped behind the gate and closed it gently, leaving him staring at the empty space she had just occupied, the warmth of her presence lingering.
She leaned against her door after it clicked shut, exhaling shakily. Her skin still tingled from their touch, her chest still felt too full and her fingers buzzed with the memory of his hands. She had expected nothing more than a walk, a quiet handhold, yet the evening had given her something far richer.
Her mind replayed his tentative smile, his whispered confession and the way he had held on without pressing too hard. She did not want to rush, did not want to force what was delicate and new, but for the first time in a long time, she wanted. She wanted to give herself over to it.
Outside, Yunho
Yunho did not move immediately after she disappeared behind the gate. He lingered for a few more seconds, staring at her door, the soft glow of the porch light reflecting faintly in his eyes. His chest throbbed, each beat feeling impossibly loud in the quiet of the evening. His lips curved into a dazed, private smile, and he ran a hand through his damp hair, muttering under his breath, "What just happened?"
The wind shifted, brushing against his skin, tugging at his jacket. He could hear distant car engines, the faint hum of a bus down the street, and the occasional laugh of students walking home. Yet none of it mattered. All he could feel, all he could think about, was her. The soft pressure of her fingers in his, the tremble in her voice, the way she had said it, "See you tonight, boyfriend".
He took a step onto the sidewalk, then another, moving slowly, deliberately, as if walking itself could hold the night together and keep the memory from slipping away. Each breath felt charged, like the air was electric, each heartbeat pounding so hard it made his teeth clench almost instinctively. Tonight. Tonight is Day One. This is when it starts.
Yunho's thoughts spun wildly. He replayed her eyes, her faint, mischievous smile, the way her chest rose and fell when she laughed softly. He could still feel the warmth of her touch, the brush of her fingers along his, like a quiet promise he didn't dare name yet. How am I supposed to sleep tonight? How could anyone sleep tonight after this?
He clenched and unclenched his fists, each movement a futile attempt to steady the storm inside him. Every nerve in his body felt alive, buzzing, as if the entire world had narrowed down to the memory of her warmth and the sound of her voice. She stayed. She wanted me to chase her. She chose tonight. The word "tonight" thumped in his mind like a drum; each beat a declaration that this wasn't just another fleeting moment. This was theirs.
Yunho's lips parted in a breathless laugh, a sound half disbelief, half exhilaration. "Tonight," he murmured to himself, almost worshipfully, "tonight is Day One." He wanted to shout it, to tell the empty street, the quiet houses, the indifferent stars above. This is ours, starting now. This is real.
He slowed his pace to a meandering walk, unwilling to let the night end too soon. Every shadow of trees along the sidewalk, every crack in the pavement, every flickering streetlight became part of the memory, imprinted forever because she was part of it. She had asked for him to pursue her, to show her he wanted her, and she had trusted him to start tonight. And I will. I will not waste a second of this. Not tonight.
Yunho's grin widened, one corner of his mouth tugged upward like he could hardly contain it. The excitement thrummed in his chest, sharp and insistent, his mind replaying every little interaction, every brush of skin, every heartbeat of hers he could remember. I want to hold her again. I want to hear her laugh. I want her to know she is wanted. He ran a hand through his damp hair again, shaking his head in disbelief at how much one evening could change everything.
Even alone, walking home, the world felt brighter, sharper. Colours seemed richer, the night more vivid. Every mundane sound—the distant engine, the rustle of leaves, the clink of a passing bike—was charged with memory, tethered to her presence. Yunho's heart continued its relentless pounding. Each beat reminded him that this was real. That tonight was theirs. That she had chosen him, even for just a few hours of this perfect, chaotic, quiet bliss.
He slowed at a familiar corner, leaning slightly against a lamppost. He could close his eyes and still feel her, still imagine her fingers entwined with his. The faint scent of the café lingered in his memory; the warmth of her hand pressed into his. Tonight, he thought again, savouring it like a secret. Day One. Everything starts tonight.
Yunho exhaled deeply, letting the tension in his shoulders ease just slightly. He did not want to go home too quickly. Not yet. Every step away from her felt like a reluctant farewell. And yet, every thought was of her, every pulse was of her. He smiled again, quietly, to no one but himself. She is mine now. I have to remember this. I will remember this. And I will chase her, tonight and every night after this.
His steps eventually carried him home, slower than usual, each movement measured, as if lingering in the afterglow of the evening could stretch it out a little longer. He could almost hear her whispering, could almost feel her warmth still in his grasp. His chest was tight; his stomach fluttered with something raw and new. Yunho knew he would lie awake tonight, heart hammering, mind spinning, but he didn't care. Tonight was theirs. Tonight marked Day One, and every second of it was electric, unforgettable, alive.
He paused briefly at his own gate, looking up at the sky, letting the night wrap around him, letting the memory of her sink deep into him. Day One. Tonight. She is mine.