Chapter Five
1337 Words
Chapter Five
Hidden Glances, Shared Pages
The mall was unusually quiet for a Saturday, its corridors basking in that soft, late morning glow as the shops slowly woke up. I stood near the entrance of the bookstore, glancing nervously at the glass door. I had arrived earlier than expected, mostly because my nerves wouldn’t let me stay home longer. My body still ached from the long workweek, five straight days of dragging myself through crowded buses, fluorescent office lighting, and constant deadlines that made my head spin.
I had barely enough for fare and food again this week. I almost canceled today. Almost.
But then I remembered her voice in the chat last night, sweet and reassuring.
“Just wear something comfy, okay? I’ll be there. I’m excited to see you again, Winter.”
And here I was, standing awkwardly in jeans that were slightly too loose and a shirt that didn't know whether it wanted to be casual or too plain. I kept adjusting my bag’s strap, eyes flitting nervously to every person who passed by. Then I saw her.
Heaven.
She walked like she owned the light in the room, as if the air itself softened around her. Sleeveless cream top paired with fitted beige slacks, her outfit looked effortless and clean, but there was a certain shine to it, like everything she wore was curated down to the last fold. Her hair fell gracefully down her shoulders, soft waves framing her face, with a delicate clip on one side that added just the right touch of charm. Small gold earrings peeked beneath her hair, subtle but elegant, just like her.
And then she smiled at me—slow, radiant, and meant only for me.
I forgot how to breathe.
"Winter," she called, her voice gentle and teasing. "Were you waiting long?"
I shook my head quickly. "N-no, I just... got here a bit early."
"You always do," she said with a grin as she stepped closer. "You're lucky you're cute."
I looked away, cheeks already burning.
We walked into the bookstore together, the silence between us easy. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled with words, just soft glances and brushing elbows as we explored shelves. She picked out a manga she thought I'd like, post-apocalyptic survival with hidden romance. I nudged a fantasy novel to her about two girls who fall in love while trapped in a world where emotions are banned.
"Subtle," she whispered, smirking.
"You started it," I muttered back, then tried to hide behind a row of shelves when she giggled too loudly.
After checking out, she surprised me with matching bookmarks. Hers had stars, mine had moons.
“Now we’re secretly matching,” she whispered as she handed it to me, fingers brushing mine.
She didn’t let go right away.
We sat in Jollibee afterward, our trays filled with Chickenjoy and spaghetti. She insisted on ordering extra fries “just in case I looked too sad,” and I rolled my eyes but accepted them anyway.
“This place brings back memories,” she said between bites, “like high school dates.”
“Wouldn’t know,” I murmured, stabbing a piece of chicken. “Never really had one.”
Heaven leaned her chin on her hand. “Not even once?”
I shrugged. “Too busy surviving… school, life, work. Relationships felt like... luxuries.”
“Then I’m honored to be your first luxury,” she said quietly, offering me her signature smile again.
I looked away, nearly choking on my soda.
That night, back in the game, we were farming materials at the edge of the alliance’s base when Arc sent a message to the team chat.
Arc: “Winter, Heaven... you two always together now? 👀”
Arton: “They’ve been hunting together lately. Planning something behind our backs? Haha.”
Winter: “Just strategizing resource routes.”
Heaven: “We make a good team, that’s all 😇”
Arton: “If you hurt Heaven I will end you. LOL but not really lol.”
Arc: “Protect Heaven at all costs. 💪”
I could practically feel the glare Heaven was giving the screen through the way she didn’t respond immediately. Then she sent me a private message.
Heaven (PM): “Told you they’d start noticing…”
Winter (PM): “You’re the one who wanted to keep it secret.”
Heaven (PM): “And I still do. For now. I like having something that’s just ours.”
I stared at that for a long time. Just ours. I typed slowly.
Winter (PM): “Me too.”
A few days later, we met again at the mall, not for any occasion, just... to see each other. I was still in my uniform. My office let me go early for once, and I didn’t even go home to change.
“You look tired,” Heaven said, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face as we sat on a bench with ice cream cones in hand.
“I am,” I confessed. “This week was… bad.”
She leaned her head against my shoulder. “Still the same toxic stuff?”
I nodded. “Boss dumped everything on me again. And when I asked for help, they said I was being too sensitive.”
Heaven sighed, pulling back to look at me. “You need to leave that job, Winter. You deserve better.”
“I can’t just quit,” I said, even though part of me wanted to. “Money’s tight… I still need to eat.”
“I’ll help.”
I turned to her, surprised. “What?”
She shrugged, eyes soft. “Not with money, unless you let me treat you to Jollibee again... but with support. I can help you look for something better. With less stress, fewer travel hours. You’re smart. You lead a hundred people in-game without losing your mind. That means something.”
I blinked rapidly, overwhelmed. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of hero.”
“You are to me,” she said quietly.
After dinner, we walked outside. The air was cooler than usual, a breeze gently tugging at her hair. She didn’t bring a jacket, she never did. Her sleeveless top fluttered as we walked slowly past the shops.
I offered her a small piece of candy I had in my bag. She smiled and slipped it into her mouth like it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her.
“I want more moments like this,” she said softly. “Not just in-game. In real life. With you.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
She suddenly turned and held up her phone. “Selfie?”
I panicked slightly. “Now?”
“Now,” she grinned, pulling me close.
I awkwardly leaned in, realizing too late that she smelled like vanilla and sunshine and everything I’d never let myself want. She snapped the photo, then showed it to me. We looked mismatched... me, tired and awkward in my work clothes, and her, glowing in pastels and grace, but something about the photo felt real.
“I’m setting this as my lock screen,” she teased.
“Don’t,” I muttered, half-embarrassed.
“Too late,” she sang.
As the sun dipped low, we stood by the terminal again. It was time to go.
“Back to the real world,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed.
She reached out and gently fixed the strap of my bag. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
“I always do.”
She smiled. “Still want to keep this secret?”
“For now,” I said, though it was getting harder not to hold her hand in public.
“Good,” she whispered, leaning close so only I could hear. “Because this—what we have—is mine. And I like it just the way it is.”
- Writer
