Chapter Six – The Space Between Us
The campus library looked different now. Every corner seemed to echo with memories of him—his quiet smile, the way his eyes had lingered on her as if she mattered.
Amara had tried to bury the memory of that night, to push it down beneath her books, her assignments, her roommate’s endless chatter. But no matter how hard she tried, flashes kept coming back: Joon-Ho’s lips on her skin, his hands pulling her closer, the way he had said her name like a secret only he was allowed to know.
And then the emptiness of waking up alone.
Why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t he wake me?
The questions clung to her, heavy and painful, as she walked into class that morning.
Her heart skipped when she saw him. Joon-Ho was already there, seated near the window, his gaze fixed on the notebook in front of him. His hair fell slightly into his eyes, and the sunlight touched his profile in a way that made her chest ache.
For a moment, she almost forgot her anger. He looked so unreal, so heartbreakingly beautiful, like a character pulled straight out of a drama.
Summoning courage, she made her way to her seat. As she passed, her eyes sought his—
But Joon-Ho didn’t look at her.
Not once.
Through the entire lecture, he kept his gaze firmly on his notes, never glancing her way, not even when she shifted in her chair, hoping he would notice. It was as if she didn’t exist.
Amara’s stomach tightened, heat rushing to her face. She wanted to believe it was just her imagination, that maybe he was tired, or distracted. But deep down, she knew. He was avoiding her.
When class ended, she stood slowly, waiting, hoping he would say something, anything. But Joon-Ho packed his books with deliberate calm and walked out, his shoulders stiff, his steps measured.
Amara watched him go, her heart cracking with each second.
Did I mean nothing to him? Was I just a mistake he wanted to forget?
Her roommate’s voice rang in her head, teasing from the night before: “You looked like you were floating, Amara. Like someone kissed the air out of you.”
She had smiled then. But now the memory only made her throat tighten.
As the classroom emptied, Amara sank back into her chair, her hands gripping the desk. She hated how much she cared. Hated how much it hurt to be ignored by him.
And yet, beneath the hurt, she couldn’t silence the truth that burned inside her—
She still wanted him.
