He cracked his pen.
I didn't miss it.
That sharp snap cut through the quiet hum of students scribbling notes and flipping pages like a fire alarm only I could hear. His fingers clenched around the ruined thing, ink smudging along his skin like proof of the storm brewing under that pretty, reckless face.
Lucian Kim.
A chaos I never asked for and yet somehow… kept inviting.
I knew he was watching. Even when he tried not to. Even when his expression screamed bored college student, pretending to pay attention while his mind wandered somewhere else. But it wasn't wandering. It was tethered to me. I could feel it. That impossible, suffocating pull. Like a hand brushing over my skin without ever making contact.
I had no right to enjoy it as much as I did.
But God help me—I did.
Every glance. Every crack in his carefully controlled mask. Every twitch of his jaw when I called his name in front of everyone. It was reckless. Irresponsible. And I should've shut it down the second it started.
I didn't.
He didn't speak for the rest of the lecture. Just sat there with ink-stained fingers and a jaw so tight I was half-convinced he'd snap something else before the hour was up. I made a point of not looking his way, focusing on the board, the equations, the steady tick of the clock on the wall.
But the awareness lingered.
Thick.
Heavy.
Like the air before a storm.
Until the last ten minutes.
I clicked my marker shut and turned back to the class. "Pop quiz next session," I said casually. "Thermodynamics and all the chaos that comes with it. Study well."
A collective groan filled the room, exactly what I expected. I watched heads drop, shoulders slump, students already mentally rearranging their weekend plans to cram for formulas they should've known weeks ago.
But Lucian? His brows shot up. A flicker of something like disbelief, like betrayal.
I met his eyes.
Just for a second.
And I let the corner of my mouth tilt. Barely. A whisper of a smile. The kind of smile meant for him and no one else.
I see you.
I hear your silence.
And now I'm going to haunt your notes too.
The bell rang.
Chairs scraped. Backpacks rustled. Students poured out like they were escaping a prison sentence, some already calling out weekend plans, others grumbling about the quiz. The usual end-of-class chaos.
But he didn't move.
Not right away.
I gathered my things slowly, letting the tension stretch. Letting the quiet wrap around us in something heavier than words. The kind of moment you pretend doesn't mean anything when it means everything.
He finally stood.
And then, just before walking out the door, he looked back at me.
Our eyes locked.
One second.
Two.
And then he was gone.
Leaving me with a racing heart and a smile I had no business wearing.
And a craving I wasn't ready to name.