Chapter Two-When the World Fell Away
1406 Words
***
Ayana's PoV
The first note radiated through the air, soft, haunting, and familiar. Halo had been reborn through violins and piano, and it was truly beautiful.
I froze.
I had chosen this song weeks ago when I finalized the gala arrangements with the event planners. Its warmth and hope had softened my heart, made me dream of light in the face of darkness. But now, in this glittering cage of champagne, lies and whispers, it felt like cruel irony.
Ha Joon extended his hand, a silent offer that burned away the silent distance between us. Hesitation burned through me for a moment, but the determination in Ha Joon's gaze pushed me forward as I placed my hand in his.
His palm was warm and anchoring, the kind of touch that didn't ask or plead. It simply was. It was him.
We moved to the center of the floor, and the other guests seemed to fade into the background, as did the press, who propped their cameras in preparation for the moment.
"May I?"
Ha Joon murmured but we both knew he didn't need my permission as his hand wrapped around my waist. Not too low, but his thumb brushed the bare skin where the criss-cross design of my dress began. It was a design choice I'd regretted earlier but not with him.
Never with him.
The music swelled as we moved in perfect rhythm, practiced and unspoken. The memory of our dance at the wedding lingered, my heart remembering what my mind had been running away from for so long.
"You look..."
Ha Joon spoke up, his voice low, just above the music.
"Beautiful doesn't quite cover it."
My pulse stuttered as I looked away, focusing instead on not falling on my face.
"You're being polite."
"I don't do polite. You know that."
His gaze held mine, the depths an echo of what I already knew about him. I cleared my throat of whatever emotion remained that I refused to name.
"You shouldn't have agreed to this."
His voice was too quiet, too controlled as he led us gracefully across the floor.
"To what?"
"The dance."
A faint smile curved my lips, and I hoped hard it didn't reflect the cynicism I felt as I spoke.
"My aunt insisted."
"Your aunt insists on many things."
He paused, and I was almost certain I caught the faintest hint of bitterness beneath his calm.
Or maybe it's just me. There is no way I could ever read Ha Joon. The Hattori siblings are literal vaults...
"It's just a dance, Ha Joon."
The softness of my voice contrasted with the chaos inside of me.
His gaze found my lips, and I couldn't find it in me to look away.
"You and I both know it isn't."
The tightness in my chest seemed to grow as the orchestra's strings rose. I was breathless, my heart throwing caution to the wind as it beat relentlessly within me.
I could feel him looking at me- like really looking at me. Warmth spread through me, lighting a fire that culminated where his palm flexed against the bare skin of my back.
"You've been avoiding me."
It wasn't a question.
It was a fact, and I was foolishly optimistic to believe he would let it slide or wouldn't notice.
My steps faltered, but his hand steadied me instantly, not allowing anyone to witness my cracking walls. The pressure was mounting, and my brain had chosen this moment to short-circuit. Which is why the next words out of my mouth were completely unplanned.
"Maybe. You make it hard to breathe sometimes."
My whispered confession was heavy and loud between us, cutting the thinning thread of our restraint even more.
Ha Joon's jaw tightened as he answered.
"And yet you keep coming back."
"To what?"
"To the edge."
My throat went completely dry; his answer was more loaded than I thought it would be. He always did this- spoke in fragments that felt like confessions.
I looked away, too afraid of seeing his gaze and breaking the minimal resolve I had left.
But I should've known I couldn't run from him, even if I tried...
He leaned in slightly, his breath grazing my ear, which sent delicious shivers through my body.
"Tell me, does he make you feel like this, Ayana?"
My breath caught, my body stiffening as a wave of desire crashed against me.
"You have no right—"
"Probably not, but I can't seem to care."
He murmured, his words hitting me hard as my body trembled against his veiled touch. I pulled back to gaze into his eyes, getting lost in the intensity of his emotions. His walls were purposefully down, and I drank in every bit of what he offered, against my better judgment.
"People are watching."
I managed to whisper out, unable to form a longer sentence or fight the pull between us.
"Let them."
His words were barely a whisper, too, but they burned through me.
The orchestra climbed towards its crescendo, and I wanted to step away, to reclaim any distance I could from him so that I could think.
But the world felt narrowed to him- his hand, my heartbeat, the unspoken history that hovered like static between us.
Oh god, I'm losing this battle and fast...
"I shouldn't be here with you."
I barely managed to get out, my gaze finally finding the courage to hold his.
He smiled, but not the cold and corporate one that the world saw. This one was faint, haunted, the one that solely belonged to me, and moments like these.
"Then why are you, tsuki?"
The nickname made my heartbeat stutter, the burn of tears catching me off guard. I hadn't heard it from him for so long, I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed it...how much it meant to me.
Because you always feel like home...
The answer to his question lingered in my thoughts, my lips too afraid to voice what my heart knew.
"You're impossible."
I murmured low instead, a soft and just as haunted smile breaking free.
His palm flexed against my bare skin as he pulled me even closer to him, just enough to feel his restraint. I swear I could hear the gasps in the crowd and sense every bit of their judgment, but all my attention shifted at the light caress of his thumb against my back.
It was subtle, but enough to scorch us both.
"So are you."
He responded, his tone dark velvet that seemed to caress the parts of me that needed him.
The last note of the song seemed to linger like a promise we both couldn't keep. His hand slipped from my waist reluctantly, but my skin still burned from his touch.
He bowed his head slightly as applause erupted from the crowd, which faded back to focus as our moment was lost.
"Thank you for the dance."
It was polite, distant. And it hurt.
He walked away through the murmuring crowd, the echo of his voice warming my skin with the weight of everything we hadn't said. I pressed my trembling hands together, begging my breath to steady and my heart to calm down. All eyes were on us, and I could not afford to show them the truest parts of me.
"You're shaking."
Aimi's whisper grounded me as she handed me a glass of champagne, her gaze spelling out what I suspected.
She saw everything.
"I'm fine."
I lied, gulping my champagne as my best friend raised a skeptical brow.
"You danced with my brother. No one dances with my brother, at least he never lets them."
I laughed weakly, willing my body not to react to her words, and wonder why I was the exception.
"He was just being polite."
"Ha Joon is not polite."
Aimi's response was dry as she turned to gaze at her brother, who was currently talking to other guests with Luka by his side.
"He's strategic. And right now, I don't think it's business he's strategizing about."
I stared at the bubbles in the champagne, too afraid to ask what Aimi saw and what I was struggling to ignore.
Ha Joon Hattori had done what he always did.
He didn't just enter a room.
He altered its gravity.
And tonight, he just reminded me how dangerous it is to forget that...
***
- Writer
