Damian sat next to Calla in the quiet library, pretending to focus on his own assignment, though his attention kept wandering. Calla was beside him, completely engrossed in her laptop, her fingers tapping steadily on the keyboard. Ever since the incident where she passed out after tripping, Damian had noticed small, subtle changes in her behavior—like the time she struggled to use her phone and laptop, even though he’d never had to teach her before. The memory still gnawed at him.

Leaning forward, Damian rested his arms on the table and tilted his head to the side, allowing himself a glance at Calla. She was in full focus mode, her brow slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in concentration as she typed. She was serious, calm—so different from her usual carefree demeanor.

As he continued to watch her, she absentmindedly reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement was slow, graceful, and for some reason, it captivated him. Her slender fingers brushed against her cheek, and for the first time, Damian noticed the softness of her skin, the way her eyelashes fluttered just slightly as her eyes remained fixed on the screen.

Why does this feel like it’s in slow motion? he wondered, caught off guard by his own thoughts. He blinked, feeling an unfamiliar stirring in his chest. What am I thinking? This is Calla… why am I looking at her like this?

Damian quickly looked away, his heart suddenly beating faster. This was the first time he’d found himself thinking about Calla like that—his best friend, the girl he’d known for so long. The realization made him uneasy, as if something inside him was shifting, and he wasn’t quite ready to confront it.

Before he could process his thoughts, a gentle tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his daze. He turned to see Calla looking at him with an amused expression. “Hey,” she said, her voice soft but playful.

Still rattled by his earlier thoughts, Damian’s reaction was immediate and panicked. He moved too quickly, and in his haste, the chair wobbled beneath him. Before he could catch himself, he tipped backward and fell off the chair with a loud thud.

Calla blinked in surprise before bursting into laughter, her eyes bright with amusement. “What are you doing?” she asked between giggles, leaning over to offer him a hand. “Are you always this clumsy when you’re not paying attention?”

Face flushed with embarrassment, Damian took her hand and let her help him back to his feet. “I, uh… lost my balance,” he muttered, trying to shrug it off, though his mind was still reeling from the earlier moment. Why did I think that? What is happening to me?

As he sat back down, Calla’s laughter still echoed in his ears, light and teasing. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to shake off the strange thoughts that had crept into his mind. But it was hard to ignore the lingering sense that something between them had subtly shifted.

“I’m done with my work. Let’s go eat somewhere,” Calla said, closing her laptop.

Damian perked up at the suggestion. His stomach had been growling for a while, but he hadn’t wanted to disturb her while she worked. “Ramen in convenience store?” he asked with a grin, already knowing her answer.

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As they packed up, Damian couldn’t help but remember the last time they had ramen at the convenience store. That was when Calla had casually suggested they date other people to keep their parents from pushing them into marriage. He hadn’t thought much of it then—after all, it was classic Calla, always brushing serious things aside with an easygoing solution.

But now, walking beside her out of the library, his thoughts returned to their strange moment earlier.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. What is wrong with me today? He glanced at Calla, who was scrolling through her phone as they walked, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.

The cool evening air greeted them as they stepped outside, and Damian stuffed his hands into his pockets, hoping the crisp breeze would shake the awkwardness from his thoughts. They walked in comfortable silence toward the convenience store, the familiar sight of the bright neon lights coming into view.

“Let’s grab some ramen and eat outside,” Calla suggested as they neared the entrance.

“Sounds good,” Damian said, opening the door for her as they stepped inside.

＊＊＊

Soon enough, they found themselves at a nearby convenience store, slurping ramen. Rosalie sat across from Damian, still adjusting to Calla’s life. Everything felt foreign, and today she was faced with yet another challenge—using chopsticks.

She had gotten used to using cutlery, but chopsticks were proving to be much trickier. The more she tried to control them, the more awkward her grip felt. She could feel Damian’s eyes on her, and she fought to keep her composure.

“Do you need a fork?” Damian asked with a teasing smile, noticing her struggle.

Rosalie glanced at him, determined not to give in. “No, I’ll try to relearn the chopsticks,” she replied, setting her jaw as she tried once again to get the noodles into her mouth.

But as soon as she lifted the ramen, the noodles slipped from her grip and splashed broth onto her face. She froze in embarrassment.

Damian chuckled, clearly amused, and passed her a tissue. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Rosalie muttered, wiping her mouth as quickly as she could. She could feel her cheeks heating up, and as she wiped away the broth, she realized there was still some soup left at the tip of her nose.

Before she could reach for another tissue, Damian leaned forward, and with his usual ease, grabbed one himself. She blinked in surprise as he gently wiped the soup from her nose. His closeness startled her, and suddenly, she was aware of how near he was—too near.

Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met. His hand lingered near her face, and she felt her heart skip a beat. His eyes, full of an unfamiliar softness, held hers, and for the first time, Rosalie noticed the warmth in his gaze. Time seemed to slow, the noise of the convenience store fading into the background as they stared at each other, both seemingly caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the moment.

Rosalie’s chest tightened. What is happening? she wondered. She didn’t move, too shocked to react. His eyes were searching hers, and for a brief second, she wondered if he could see past Calla—if he could somehow see her.

The moment stretched far too long, and when Damian finally pulled back, clearing his throat, Rosalie felt the color rise in her cheeks. Her face was flushed, and her pulse was racing. Why was she reacting like this? She had never felt this way around him before, and yet, something had shifted.

Damian rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered as well. “Uh… you had soup on your nose,” he mumbled awkwardly.

Rosalie let out a small laugh, trying to break the tension. But the blush on her cheeks didn’t fade. She looked down at her bowl, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than she ever had around him.

Why did it feel different this time? she thought, her heart still pounding. She stole a glance at Damian, who was now avoiding eye contact, his own discomfort evident. It was clear the moment had unsettled him too.

She bit her lip, wondering if he had noticed the change, or if he was just as confused as she was. Either way, something between them had shifted, and Rosalie wasn’t sure if she liked it or feared it.