The morning announcements were dull, as always.
Liz leaned against her locker, scarf still around her neck, sketchbook clutched to her chest. She wasn't looking for him. She wasn't waiting, either.
Or so she told herself.
Then she heard her name.
"Liz?"
She turned. A girl from her class—Minah—smiled brightly. Minah had that kind of face that made people talk to her, trust her. She twirled a pen between her fingers and leaned in, conspiratorial.
"Are you and Jeon Wonwoo…?" she asked, trailing off with a knowing grin.
Liz blinked. "What?"
Minah giggled. "I mean—you two are always disappearing at the same time. And the scarf? That's his, right?"
Liz froze. She didn't realize it had become that obvious.
She tugged the scarf down slightly, tucking it into her collar. "You're imagining things."
"Maybe," Minah sing-songed. "But it's kind of cute. Like one of those slow-burn dramas."
Liz gave a noncommittal shrug and escaped into the classroom before she had to answer more.
---
At lunch, she found her usual quiet spot—an empty stairwell between the old and new building. It was her favorite hideout, a place no one really used.
Except today.
Wonwoo was already there, sitting on the stairs, flipping through photos on his camera.
"You're in my spot," she said, dryly.
He didn't look up. "I was here first."
Liz rolled her eyes and sat down beside him anyway. "You're popular today."
"Huh?"
"People are talking."
Now he looked at her, curiosity piqued. "About what?"
She didn't answer at first. Then: "About us."
A pause.
Then: "Oh."
She waited for more. A denial. A brush-off. Something.
But instead, he just asked, "And what did you say?"
"That they're imagining things," she replied simply.
Wonwoo nodded, lips twitching slightly.
"You don't seem surprised."
"I'm not. People notice things when they want to."
Another silence fell between them—but this one was laced with something heavier. The unspoken.
Liz looked down at her hands. "You okay with that?"
He tilted his head, thoughtful. "Depends."
"On what?"
He met her gaze. Steady. Calm. That same look that made her heart do inconvenient things.
"On whether or not it's just their imagination."
Liz's breath hitched.
But before she could respond, the bell rang. Harsh. Loud. Unwelcome.
Wonwoo stood first, slinging his camera over his shoulder.
"Walk with me?" he asked.
She nodded, quietly, and followed.