Nalea's POV (Rewritten)
Nalea woke to the soft glow of morning light slipping through the curtains.
For a few seconds, she didn't move. She simply lay there, listening to the unfamiliar quiet of the room—so different from the mornings she'd grown used to in Korea. The silence felt heavier here, almost like the house itself was still adjusting to her return.
Then her phone buzzed.
Not a new message.
A reminder of something already there.
She reached for it, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and saw the name attached to the message that had come in late last night.
Her ex-boyfriend.
Nalea didn't open it right away.
Instead, she locked her phone and pushed herself up, her bare feet touching the cold floor. Today mattered. It was her first real day back.
The past didn't get to decide how it went.
Still… the message lingered in the back of her mind as she got ready. Before leaving, she checked it—just once. Enough to know it wasn't urgent.
No apologies.
No drama.
Just words that felt… late.
Out of place.
She didn't reply.
⸻
Outside, Eric was already waiting, leaning casually against the railing.
When he saw her, he straightened.
"Good morning," she greeted.
He nodded once.
"Morning."
They started walking toward campus together. Eric didn't say much—he rarely did—but stayed close beside her as she filled the silence with small, passing observations.
"The campus looks… bigger than I expected."
A small nod.
"I hope I don't get lost."
"You won't," he replied quietly, certainty steady in his tone.
Eric reached into his bag and pulled out a cold chocolate milk. And handed it to her.
Nalea blinked.
"You remember."
He hesitated for the briefest second, his eyes lowering.
"You always liked it."
Something warm settled in her chest.
He wasn't talking much—
But he remembered the things that mattered.
⸻
Inside the school building, lockers slammed shut and voices echoed down the hallways. Nalea walked beside Eric, trying to ignore how unfamiliar everything suddenly felt.
Then she noticed something else.
The looks.
A group of girls paused mid-conversation. Someone nudged their friend. Whispers followed behind them—soft, quick, but not quiet enough.
"That's Eric?"
"Who's she?"
"She's walking with him?"
"How can she walk with him?"
Nalea frowned slightly, resisting the urge to turn around.
"Are they… talking about us?" she whispered.
Eric didn't react.
"Ignore it."
"But why are they staring?"
He glanced down at her briefly.
"They stare at everything."
It wasn't the full truth.
But it was enough—for now.
⸻
Before she could question it further, her eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against a locker nearby.
Eun-ji.
A slow, sly smile curved across her cousin's lips as she stepped forward.
"Hey, Nalea. It's been a while."
"Yeah… it has."
"You look really good. America suits you."
Nalea blinked, slightly surprised.
A compliment? From her?
"Thank you."
Out of the corner of her eye, she didn't notice the way Eun-ji subtly shifted—just enough to stand a little closer to Eric.
"Eric," Eun-ji greeted casually. "Long time no see."
His expression didn't change.
"Yeah."
No smile.
No warmth.
Just acknowledgment.
Eun-ji stepped a little closer again, though her attention stayed on Nalea.
"It's nice that you're back."
"I'm glad to be back."
Beside her, Eric remained quiet—but when the strap of her bag slipped from her shoulder, he reached over and adjusted it gently.
"You'll drop it."
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't loud.
But it was intentional.
His hand lingered for just a second before he stepped slightly closer to her side—not enough to make a scene, just enough to make something clear.
Eun-ji noticed.
Nalea only blinked.
"Oh… thanks."
"We're going to be late," Eric said.
Not we should go.
We're going.
Together.
⸻
As they walked away, she sneak glanced at him.
By the time they entered the classroom, the noise hadn't settled.
A group of girls surrounded a boy near the front—Isaac—laughing a little too brightly, leaning in a little too close.
Nalea barely recognized him as the boy everyone seemed drawn to.
As she walked past, whispers followed her and Eric like a shadow.
"Who's she with?"
"Why is she with Eric?"
She kept her head up, pretending not to notice.
The teacher's voice eventually cut through the chatter, announcing the project groups.
Nalea.
Eric.
Isaac.
Olivia.
Jasmine.
The two girls immediately tried to shift their seats.
"Maybe I should sit next to you for this part?" Jasmine suggested sweetly to Isaac.
"Mind if I sit here?" Olivia asked Eric.
He didn't answer.
She frowned slightly—but sat down anyway.
Isaac leaned back slightly, smirking, and finally spoke.
"Isaac: So… this is Nalea."
Nalea's cheeks warmed. She glanced at him, noticing the mix of curiosity and subtle challenge in his tone.
Eric, beside her, stayed quiet, his posture calm and steady.
Eric quietly moved his chair closer to Nalea, leaving barely any space between them.
Subtle.
Almost unnoticeable.
"Do you always… hover like that?" Isaac asked eventually, his voice smooth but edged.
"Just making sure she has space," Eric replied calmly.
Isaac leaned back, raising an eyebrow.
"Protecting her now?"
Eric's jaw tightened slightly.
"If you want to call it that… yeah."
A beat.
"From someone like you."
⸻
By the end of the day, as they crossed the nearly empty campus beneath the fading sunlight, Nalea finally spoke.
"You seem protective today."
"I was."
"Why? I didn't… ask for it."
"You don't always have to ask," he replied, his voice soft but certain.
"Some things are just… necessary."
"Even when it's subtle?"
A faint, almost shy smile touched his lips.
"Especially then."
⸻
After a moment of silence, she asked quietly,
"Eric… why are you always so quiet?"
"Today?"
He understood exactly what she meant—but finding the right words wasn't easy.
"Not just today… I mean yesterday too."
"You think I'm quiet because of you, right?"
"…True."
"I've been quiet… not because of you, Nalea."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded
"If that's so, just know that I'm here."
Their hands brushed gently as they walked.
A quiet reminder—
He will always be there.
Always.
For once, she understood that somethings didn't need explaining—and that was enough.