The hallway buzzed with the familiar morning rhythm—heels clicking, voices murmuring greetings, printers humming faintly behind closed doors. Employees moved in their usual rush, carrying coffee cups, folders, and sleep-heavy expressions. The building blinked awake floor by floor, and the world kept moving… even if Amara felt as though her world had paused in place.
She didn't look back again.
Not after watching Kael walk away with Clariss clinging to his arm—laughing softly, leaning close, acting as if they were something.
Acting as if he had never held Amara's heart.
She kept walking, her footsteps even, her breath steady, though her heartbeat hadn't quite caught up with her composure. Damian walked besides her, matching her pace, silent but present, as if offering a quiet shield around her.
Once Kael and Clariss rounded the corner and disappeared entirely, Damian's steps suddenly stopped.
So did Amara's.
When she turned, he was already facing her. His brows were pulled together—subtle, but unmistakably worried. He took a half-step closer.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
The question was simple. But it wasn't easy.
Amara froze. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Her chest tightened, the kind of tightness that didn't hurt sharply anymore—just a lingering ache. The kind that reminded her of a bruise touched too soon. She inhaled, long and slow, as if gathering courage from the air around her.
Damian didn't rush her.
He didn't try to fill the silence.
He just waited. Patiently. Openly.
Finally, Amara let out a trembling breath.
"…It still hurts," she whispered.
Damian's expression softened, but he didn't interrupt.
Amara's eyes lowered to the shiny tiled floor, watching the faint reflections of people passing behind them.
"But… not like before," she continued. "I can live with it now. Because I finally accepted it."
She swallowed, her throat tightening with the honesty she hadn't intended to say aloud.
"Kael isn't for me. We're… not meant to be. And that's okay."
A small, tired smile touched her lips. "Clariss suits him better anyway."
Her honesty was quiet, but it was real.
Raw, but steady.
Damian didn't respond with words.
Instead, he nudged the stack of documents tucked under his arm until they were supported by his side, leaving one hand free. With zero warning, he reached forward and ruffled her hair.
Amara jolted.
"H-Hey! What are you—?!"
Before she could fix her hair, Damian leaned down slightly and placed both palms on her cheeks, squishing them gently.
Her face turned beet red.
"Kael's dumb," he said with a grin that was both teasing and oddly sincere. "Super dumb. Imagine choosing someone else when he could've chosen a cute girl like you."
Amara froze.
Then combusted.
Her entire face burned hot.
"D-Damian!! Not so loud! Someone might hear!"
She whipped her head left—then right—scanning the hallway like a panicked squirrel. Thankfully, the employees rushing past were too busy to pay attention. No one even looked their way.
Relief washed over her.
But her cheeks still puffed up in embarrassment as she glared (weakly) at Damian.
"Don't say embarrassing things like that," she mumbled. "I'm not cute."
Damian raised a brow dramatically.
"Wrong."
"I'm not!"
"You are."
"No!"
"Definitely cute."
"Damian!"
"Adorably cute."
"Stop—!" Her cheeks were blazing now. "I'm not!"
"You so are."
"I'm not cute!"
"You're literally cute right now."
"Damian!!"
Her voice cracked with exasperated embarrassment, making him laugh softly. The tension from moments ago had eased. Their playful argument felt light—easy—like she could finally breathe again without her chest tightening around Kael's name.
But then—
Footsteps approached from the far end of the hallway.
Amara stiffened immediately.
Someone was coming.
In a flash of panic—she didn't even think—she tiptoed and slapped her hand over Damian's mouth.
"Shh!"
Damian's eyes widened.
He had absolutely not been expecting that.
"Mm—?!" His startled sound vibrated against her hand.
Their balance shifted.
Hard.
"W-Wait, Ama—!"
But gravity didn't wait.
"Ah—!"
THUMP!
The world tilted. Papers went flying—white sheets scattering everywhere like a mini snowstorm of deadlines.
They crashed down in a tangled heap.
When Amara blinked back into focus—
she found herself on top of Damian.
Her hand was still plastered over his mouth.
Damian's arms had instinctively wrapped around her waist, holding her in place so she wouldn't fall further onto the floor.
For a full second—neither of them breathed.
Amara's eyes grew wide. Damian's did too.
Then—
"Ah—"
A choked inhale sounded from behind them.
A voice Amara knew too well.
Kael.
He had come back.
Just to check her reaction once more.
Just to see she cared. That she looked hurt.
But what he found—
was Amara sprawled on top of Damian, her hand over his mouth.
Damian holding her close, his hands at her waist.
Documents all around them like messy proof of an intimate moment neither of them intended.
Kael froze.
His expression went blank for a moment—like his brain stopped processing.
Then his jaw tightened.
His fists clenched.
Something stormy flashed in his eyes before he masked it.
But he didn't say a word.
He just stood there, stunned, breath caught somewhere between disbelief and something dangerously close to jealousy.
Damian still hadn't moved—his hands still at Amara's waist, his expression stunned into stillness.
And Amara…
Amara felt her heart skip painfully.
Because Kael wasn't just surprised.
He looked—
Wounded.
As if something twisted hard inside him.
But she didn't move.
Couldn't move.
The hallway noise faded out completely.
The three of them stood locked in a moment none of them meant to create—
Yet none of them could escape.