Chapter 28

The air inside the lecture hall was stale, the kind of suffocating stillness that made Ju-woon feel like he was being smothered by the weight of routine. The professor's droning voice faded into the background as his mind drifted, unable to focus on anything other than the person sitting just a few seats away from him. Min-ho.

Since the confession, everything had shifted. It wasn't that Min-ho was acting different—if anything, he was still the same annoying, overly confident pain in the ass he'd always been. But now, every interaction between them felt charged, like there was an invisible string tying them together, tightening every time their eyes met.

Ju-woon didn't understand why this was happening. He never used to think about Min-ho like this, never used to notice the way he absentmindedly chewed on his pen cap when he was bored, or the way his fingers tapped against the desk when he was restless. He never used to be hyper-aware of Min-ho's presence, never used to feel his pulse jump when their shoulders brushed in the crowded hallway.

But now? Now it was impossible to ignore.

He could feel Min-ho's eyes on him. Not just now, in class, but always. The guy made it so obvious, staring at him like he was waiting for something. But Ju-woon had nothing to give—not yet. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He wasn't rejecting Min-ho, but he wasn't accepting him either. He was stuck in this in-between space, lost in emotions he didn't know how to handle.

When class finally ended, Ju-woon exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he gathered his things. He could feel Min-ho lingering nearby, waiting. He should've expected it by now—Min-ho had made it clear that he wasn't about to back off.

"Hey," Min-ho's voice cut through the noise of students filing out.

Ju-woon sighed but turned to him anyway. "What?"

Min-ho grinned, falling into step beside him as they left the lecture hall. "You look like you were about to explode in there."

Ju-woon rolled his eyes. "Maybe I was."

Min-ho chuckled. "Thinking about me that hard?"

Ju-woon scowled. "You wish."

"Yeah," Min-ho said without missing a beat. "I do."

Ju-woon faltered, nearly tripping over his own feet. He shot Min-ho a sharp look, but the other just smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Damn him.

They walked in silence for a while, the campus alive with students moving between classes, laughter and conversations filling the crisp afternoon air. It should've been a normal day, but it wasn't. Not when Ju-woon was painfully aware of the way Min-ho kept glancing at him, the way he seemed so at ease despite everything that had been said between them.

It was frustrating. How could Min-ho just confess his feelings and act like it was nothing? Like he hadn't thrown Ju-woon's entire world off its axis?

Ju-woon stopped walking. "Min-ho."

The other turned to him, raising a brow. "Yeah?"

Ju-woon hesitated, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He didn't know what he wanted to say—only that he couldn't keep pretending like nothing had changed. He wasn't the type to dance around things.

"Why are you like this?" he muttered, frustrated.

Min-ho tilted his head. "Like what?"

Ju-woon gestured vaguely at him. "This. Acting like you didn't just drop that shit on me a few days ago. Aren't you supposed to be—" He paused, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know. Nervous? Embarrassed?"

Min-ho laughed. "Why would I be embarrassed? I told you how I feel. You didn't run away screaming, so I'd say things are going pretty well."

Ju-woon stared at him in disbelief. "You're insufferable."

"Maybe." Min-ho shrugged. "But you're still standing here, talking to me."

Ju-woon hated how true that was.

Min-ho's gaze softened slightly. "Look, I know you're still figuring things out," he said, unusually sincere. "And I meant it when I said you don't have to answer me right now. I'm not going anywhere, Ju-woon."

Something in Ju-woon's chest tightened. He wasn't used to this—not from Min-ho. The sincerity, the patience. It was unsettling.

Ju-woon looked away. "Whatever," he muttered.

Min-ho chuckled. "So defensive."

Ju-woon shot him a glare, but Min-ho just grinned, as if this whole thing was amusing to him.

They continued walking, the tension lingering between them. It wasn't the awkward kind—it was something else, something deeper. Something that made Ju-woon's stomach twist in ways he didn't want to acknowledge.

As they reached the campus gates, Min-ho stretched his arms above his head, looking up at the sky. "You heading home?"

Ju-woon nodded. "Yeah."

Min-ho hummed. "I'll walk with you."

Ju-woon frowned. "Why?"

Min-ho grinned. "Because I feel like it."

Ju-woon sighed, but he didn't argue. He should've, but for some reason, he didn't.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

He didn't want Min-ho to follow him, didn't want to get used to him being around—but at the same time, he didn't want him to leave, either.

And that was dangerous.

Because Min-ho had already said he wasn't going to give up.

And Ju-woon wasn't sure if he wanted him to.

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