Ch -2

Ha Eun tried her best to ignore Ji-ho's presence, focusing intently on her studies. The sound of his occasional shifts or the rustle of his hoodie was a constant reminder that she wasn't truly alone. It was a strange sensation, the feeling of being observed, but she managed to block it out, convinced that if she concentrated hard enough, she'd be able to get through the material.

But the quietude of the moment was deceptive. Ji-ho's eyes were often drawn to her, and his presence slowly became a background hum in her otherwise solitary world. She couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested in her—or if he just found her intriguing because she was unlike anyone else he typically encountered. Whatever it was, he never spoke again, though his watchful gaze never left her completely.

Days passed, and Ha Eun became more accustomed to sharing the space with him. She would arrive earlier than him, settling onto the bench and opening her books with deliberate motions. At first, Ji-ho would slouch against the tree, barely acknowledging her, but over time, his glances became more frequent. He was almost curious about what she was doing, what she was studying, or perhaps he was just trying to figure out why she was always alone.

One day, as Ha Eun flipped through a stack of papers, trying to memorize English idioms, she felt Ji-ho's gaze on her more intensely than usual. She couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Why do you always study so hard?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ha Eun didn't look up immediately. She was surprised by the question, not sure how to respond to someone like Ji-ho. He wasn't the type of person she would have expected to be interested in why she worked so much.

"I have to," she replied simply, not bothering to elaborate. "I want to get into a good university."

Ji-ho didn't say anything right away. He leaned back further, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable. "You don't look like the kind of person who needs to work that hard," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Ha Eun glanced up then, her eyes meeting his for the first time since their encounter at the bench. There was something in his tone that she couldn't place, but she chose to ignore it. "I'm not exactly like everyone else," she said, her voice low but steady.

For a moment, Ji-ho said nothing, and the quiet between them settled again. The tension was still there, but Ha Eun didn't feel the need to explain herself. She'd lived her life making do, focusing on what needed to be done, not on the people who judged or questioned her.

As the days wore on, Ha Eun continued to come to the bench every day, and Ji-ho continued to show up in his usual spot. They had built an odd sort of unspoken routine. He wasn't exactly friendly, nor did he make any effort to engage her beyond those rare moments of observation, but Ha Eun had learned to accept his presence as a fact of her daily life.

One day, however, as she was leaving the secluded corner, carrying her books and preparing to go back to class, she spotted Ji-ho standing by the tree, his hands in his pockets, his posture more tense than usual.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice sharper than normal.

Ha Eun paused, surprised by the question. "Class," she said simply, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What's it to you?"

Ji-ho shifted uncomfortably, his usual cocky demeanor slipping for a moment. "I just… thought you might want to, I don't know… talk or something."

She raised an eyebrow, still unsure of what he meant. "I don't really have time to talk. I need to study."

Ji-ho seemed to register her words, a faint look of frustration passing across his face. He looked like he was about to say something else, but before he could speak, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break.

Ha Eun gave him one last look before walking away, the soft sound of her footsteps on the gravel filling the silence between them. She couldn't quite understand why he would ask her something like that, or why it bothered her so much. But it did.

Over the next few days, Ji-ho's behavior seemed slightly different. He didn't just sit there, silently watching her as usual. Sometimes, he would shift closer to the bench, dropping his bag on the ground next to her. His presence was harder to ignore now, and Ha Eun found herself wondering what his intentions were.

He wasn't exactly kind, but he wasn't openly hostile either. It was as though he was testing her, seeing how far he could push before she would snap, before she would give in to whatever he was offering. But Ha Eun didn't want anything from him. She was fine, managing on her own. She didn't need to be part of his world—she was too focused on her own to get involved in something so uncertain.

As the days passed, the quiet moments on the bench grew more strained. Ha Eun, ever resolute in her drive to study, found herself more distracted by Ji-ho's proximity, his quiet observations. Despite herself, she began to wonder whether there was more to his curiosity about her.

And then, one afternoon, after another particularly long and quiet study session, Ji-ho stood up and made his way toward her. For the first time, he spoke again—this time with a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're not so bad, you know," he said, his tone still guarded but somehow lighter than before. "Most people can't keep up with this kind of routine."

Ha Eun stared at him for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. She didn't need his validation, nor did she particularly care for it. But something in the way he said it made her hesitate, made her wonder if, for the first time, there was something more to Ji-ho than just the troublemaker everyone had pegged him to be.

Instead of responding, Ha Eun simply nodded once and gathered her things. She couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts that didn't matter, not when her future depended on every single moment she could devote to studying.

But as she walked away, the unspoken connection lingered, filling the space between them in ways she didn't fully understand yet.

Ha Eun tried to shake off the odd feeling that lingered in the air after Ji-ho's words. It was strange—almost as if there had been some shift in their dynamic, even if it was too subtle to identify clearly. She wasn't the type to dwell on things like this, especially not with someone like Ji-ho. He was a bit of a mystery to her, but she wasn't about to waste time trying to decode his behavior.

following days brought with them the same routine. Ha Eun arrived early at the bench, buried her head in her textbooks, and tried to block out the rest of the world. But Ji-ho was there, as he always was now. His presence had shifted from an occasional distraction to a constant background hum, like a faint buzz that never quite went away. He didn't say much, but she could feel him there, watching from his usual spot against the tree. Occasionally, his gaze would linger on her longer than usual, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. But it wasn't her problem to solve.

One afternoon, as she was deeply focused on an upcoming test, she heard his voice again. It was casual, but there was an edge to it that caught her off guard.

"You really don't talk to anyone, do you?"

Ha Eun's pen froze in mid-air as she lifted her head slightly to glance at him. She hadn't expected another comment from him, at least not about something so personal. His words were like an uninvited intrusion into her world of solitude, and she could feel her walls instinctively go up.

"I don't have time for small talk," she replied, returning her focus to her papers.

Ji-ho chuckled, but it wasn't his usual cocky laugh. It was quieter, almost thoughtful. "I figured you'd say something like that," he murmured. He didn't push her further, though, and that was the end of the exchange. For a moment, the silence between them felt heavier, thicker than usual.

Ha Eun felt her chest tighten slightly but refused to acknowledge the strange sensation. She knew she had made it clear that she wasn't interested in anything beyond her studies. It was better that way. The more distance she kept between herself and other people, the less complicated life felt.

As the weeks passed, Ji-ho's behavior didn't exactly change, but it did become more... consistent. He was still there, always lurking just on the edge of her peripheral vision, but he didn't make any more attempts to talk to her. He just watched, sometimes for longer than she was comfortable with. His gaze wasn't hostile, but there was something curious in it that she couldn't quite place.

At first, Ha Eun would have dismissed it as mere boredom on his part, but as time went on, she started to wonder. What did he want from her? Why did he keep coming back? Was he genuinely interested in her, or was he just intrigued by her solitary nature? He had said once that she didn't "look like the kind of person who needed to work that hard," but his tone had been oddly introspective, almost like he was trying to understand her.