The two walked a short distance toward the cafeteria for a mid-morning break, neither of them hurrying. They moved with a quiet ease, the familiarity of their routine settling like a blanket around the tension that had gripped them.
Bella's mind, usually a torrent of worry and self-doubt, quieted as she noticed little things about Yunho. The way he adjusted the strap of his backpack without looking, the soft crease between his brows that seemed permanent now, the subtle shift of his gaze when it lingered on her just a second too long.
"You didn't tell anyone else?" she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.
He shook his head. "Not a soul. This stayed between us. That's how it should be."
She nodded, a gentle weight lifting from her chest. It wasn't about justice, or rules, or the politics that had twisted their lives for the past days. It was about the people who truly mattered and for Bella, that was him.
"And you're really okay?" she asked. "After… all that?"
Yunho's smile was faint, but genuine. "I'm dealing with it. But seeing you here, safe… it's worth every second."
Her heart swelled at the words, and she felt a quiet, unshakeable trust settling over her. The world outside could remain messy, complicated, and unfair, but here, with him, she was grounded.
They sat on a bench outside the library after their classes, the courtyard buzzing faintly with the sound of other students passing. Yunho leaned back slightly, letting the sunlight fall across his face and for the first time in days, Bella felt like she could breathe.
"You matter," he said softly, turning to meet her gaze. "And I'm not letting anyone make you feel otherwise."
Bella looked at him, her pulse quickening, warmth spreading across her chest. "I know," she murmured. "And… thank you."
He reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the simple gesture loaded with tenderness. The tension from the past days seemed to dissolve, replaced by something lighter, quieter and entirely theirs.
The first few days after the dust settled were... quiet.
Not silent. Not forgotten. But different.
For the first time in weeks, Bella walked through the school corridors without flinching at whispers. People had moved on. Or at least, they were pretending to.
Bella wasn't pretending. She was healing.
She sat at a shaded bench near the back of the campus courtyard during lunch, a book open in her lap but barely read. Yunho dropped into the seat beside her, two drinks in hand.
"Iced tea," he said, holding one out. "Your favourite."
Bella looked at him and smiled, accepting the drink.
"You know, we never used to sit out here," she said, glancing at the quiet corner they'd claimed.
"I like it better," Yunho replied. "Less eyes. Less noise."
She nodded, taking a sip of her drink.
Later That Week
Bella stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the plain white badge clipped to her shirt: Library Assistant Volunteer. It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't flashy. But it was hers—her choice. Helping. Contributing. Finding quiet purpose in a world that often felt too loud, too exposed.
Earlier in the week, she had approached the librarian, offering to help after school a few days a week in cataloging books, organising shelves, sometimes just… having a quiet space for herself. When she told Yunho, he didn't ask why. He simply said it was perfect.
Now, after class, the library was starting to have students flowing in, vying for a spot to bury their heads among the books. Sun streaming through the tall windows, soft light casting the shelves in golden warmth. Yunho appeared at the end of the aisle, moving toward her like he belonged in this stillness as much as she did. There was something about the quiet of the library that made the rest of the world blur, like they were suspended in a private moment.
"You've been working hard," Yunho murmured as he approached, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. His touch lingered longer than necessary, enough to make her breath hitch. "You deserve a break."
Bella opened her mouth, ready with a witty reply, something to tease him and mask the quickening in her chest. But before she could speak, he closed the space between them with a kind of urgency she hadn't expected.
His hand slid around the small of her back, pulling her close and the world seemed to tilt.
"Yunho…" she breathed, her fingers resting lightly against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
"I need you," he said, voice low and immediate, eyes dark and fixed on hers. "Right now."
Her pulse jumped. The suddenness, the intensity wasn't something premeditated. It was raw, honest. He was letting her know exactly how he felt, no words to soften it, no hesitation.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn't slow or careful. It was urgent, full of heat and longing, messy at the edges, leaving their breaths tangled together. Her hands found his shoulders, gripping lightly as if to anchor herself while her body leaned into him. Every second stretched impossibly, every heartbeat loud in her ears.
When they broke apart for just a fraction of a moment, she blinked at him, chest rising and falling.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, urgent and hungry without crossing any boundaries. Their breaths tangled, her fingers threading through his hair as his hands traced her back, pulling her impossibly close. Each press of their lips was deliberate yet frenzied, a mix of longing and relief, as if they had both been holding onto this for far too long.
When they finally pulled back, even for a fleeting second, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling, hearts hammering in unison.
"That…" she whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with the force of what she felt.
"Was inevitable," he murmured against her lips before closing the space again, pressing a fervent, lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth and then to her cheek. His urgency hadn't softened, but it was tempered by the gentleness of his touch, the warmth of his hand on her back anchoring her to the moment.
She laughed softly against him, a mixture of disbelief and delight, and buried her face into his hoodie. "Someone's going to walk in…"
"I'll handle it," he whispered, voice low, teasing, yet protective. "Nobody interrupts us."
She shook her head with a grin, still pressed to him. "You nearly tripped over the cart sneaking in."
"And yet," he said with a smirk, brushing his nose against hers, "I'd do it all over again just to be here with you."