"Alright," she said flatly.
"Fine."
After that, Seong moved.
Slowly at first.
One step.
Then another.
Her pace was calm, measured, almost elegant, the kind of walk that gave nothing away. But inside her head, things were far less graceful.
Because the closer she got, the more suspicious the scene looked.
Si Hon stood there as usual with that unreadable face of his, calm to the point of irritation, like the entire world could collapse around him and he would still be deciding whether it was worth reacting to. Yes, as usual.
And most of all, Aeloria was far too close.
One hand still hovered near his shoulder, fingers tense as if she wanted to grab him again just to continue being angry properly. Her cheeks still carried that stubborn warmth, color refusing to leave no matter how much she glared. And somehow, impossibly, she managed to look like she was caught between starting an argument and confessing something she hated herself for feeling.
It was unbearable.
