Chapter Seven – Shadows Around Him
Amara had never been the kind of girl to chase anyone. Back in Cameroon, her mother always told her: “If someone wants you, they’ll show you. If they don’t, you hold your head high and keep walking.”
But Seoul had a way of testing her resolve.
Every time she walked into the lecture hall, she felt Joon-Ho’s presence before she even saw him. His stillness, his quiet intensity—it pulled at her like gravity. Yet he kept his walls up, never letting his gaze linger, never giving her more than a polite nod when politeness demanded it.
It hurt more than she wanted to admit.
One afternoon, Amara slipped into the cafeteria, tray in hand, when she spotted him sitting with a group of guys she recognized from class. They were laughing, teasing each other loudly, and for a moment, Joon-Ho looked… normal. The serious mask slipped, and she caught the faintest glimpse of the boy she had seen that night—the boy who had pulled her close like she was his entire world.
But then her gaze shifted.
A girl slid into the seat beside him, her presence commanding in a way that made Amara’s chest tighten. She was beautiful—tall, slim, with long dark hair and flawless porcelain skin, her nails painted a sharp crimson. The way she leaned toward Joon-Ho, her hand brushing his arm like it belonged there, told Amara everything she needed to know.
An ex.
It didn’t take much guessing. The familiarity between them was too strong to be casual.
Amara froze mid-step, her tray trembling in her hands. She told herself it didn’t matter, that Joon-Ho could sit with whoever he wanted, laugh with whoever he wanted. But her chest felt hollow, her throat dry.
Her roommate, Mina, appeared at her side. “You okay?” she asked, following Amara’s gaze.
Amara forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… tired.”
But Mina’s eyes narrowed knowingly. “That’s his ex, by the way. Han Soo-Min. They dated last year. Broke up, but everyone says she’s still hung up on him.”
Amara swallowed hard, looking back at the table. Soo-Min was laughing at something Joon-Ho said, touching his wrist as if she had every right.
And Joon-Ho?
He didn’t pull away.
For the rest of the day, Amara carried the image with her, sharp and unshakable. It wasn’t just the sight of his ex. It was the reminder that maybe she had been foolish—thinking she could belong in his world, even for a night.
That night, lying in bed, Amara stared at the ceiling, her heart caught between anger and longing.
She whispered his name once, softly, like it hurt to say it aloud.
Joon-Ho… what are you doing to me?
From the outside, Joon-Ho looked like he belonged at that table—laughing with his friends, leaning back in his chair as if life were effortless. That was the version of himself he showed them: calm, untouchable, the perfect Han heir who carried no burden heavier than a midterm.
But inside, every laugh tasted bitter.
Soo-Min’s perfume clung too close, the sharp floral scent reminding him of the months they had been together. She had been beautiful, popular, exactly the kind of girl his parents approved of. Being with her had been easy in a shallow way—everyone expected it, and he hadn’t needed to think too deeply about his choices.
But he had never really felt anything with her. Not the way he did with—
Amara.
Her name hit him like a strike to the chest. The memory of her skin, her warmth, the way she whispered his name in the dark—every part of it burned in his veins. That night had been real in a way nothing else in his carefully constructed life had ever been.
And that was the problem.
“Joon-Ho,” Soo-Min said, her voice pulling him back. Her manicured fingers brushed his wrist casually, as if they belonged there. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move away. Not because he wanted her touch, but because to react would draw questions. And questions were dangerous.
From the corner of his eye, he had already seen her—Amara—standing frozen with her tray, her eyes wide with hurt before she turned away. His chest tightened, his pulse hammering in his ears.
He wanted to get up, to go to her, to explain that Soo-Min meant nothing. That she was the only one who mattered.
But he couldn’t.
Not with his friends watching. Not with Soo-Min circling him like a hawk. And definitely not with the shadow of his family pressing down on him, reminding him of the arranged marriage waiting just around the corner.
So he forced himself to laugh at a joke he didn’t hear, to let Soo-Min’s hand linger on his wrist as if it didn’t burn, to pretend he was exactly who they all thought he was.
But inside, a war raged.
Because every second he ignored Amara, every time he avoided her gaze, he felt like he was breaking something fragile and precious.
And yet… it was the only way he knew how to protect her.
