Chapter 3: Don’t Think I Like You
Han was standing beside her car. Waiting.
Her arms were crossed. Her crutches leaned against the car door. No driver today. No bodyguard. Just silence and a girl who looked like she never needed help—except today, she did.
Rio walked past her at first. Like she didn’t care.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw4AN4WVsw2
Like always.
But halfway across the lot, she stopped.
She didn’t even look back. Just growled, “You gonna stand there forever like a broken statue?”
Han didn’t answer. Her pride did.
Rio turned around, walked back, and before Han could argue—scooped her up.
“W–What are you doing, you idiot?!” Han snapped, cheeks red.
“Saving the rich barbie’s fragile legs,” Rio muttered. “Don’t move. Or I might drop you.”
She didn’t. She placed Han gently on the passenger seat like she was made of glass.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0xYOjUtLLa
Then tossed Han’s bag into her lap.
“Don’t think I like you,” Rio added, slamming the door. “It’s just pity.”
Later that night... at Han’s house
A marble mansion. A thousand stairs. A thunderstorm waiting in the air.
Rio stared up at the stairs like she was being punished by God.
“You don’t have a lift? In this palace?” she said.
Han raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the one who agreed to come.”
Rio sighed, picked her up again, and began climbing—one step at a time.
Han was silent the whole way, arms tucked in like she didn’t want to touch Rio. But her heartbeat? Loud. So loud.
In Han’s Room
Rio dropped Han onto her bed—not gently this time.
“You’re lucky I work out,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor. “And unlucky that I still hate you.”
Han sat back against the pillows, legs stiff. “Then write. I’ll check it.”
Rio rolled her eyes and pulled out her notebook. Her loose shirt slid down one shoulder. Her silver chain caught the light. She started writing.
Han watched her. In complete silence.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCSA2TzWq8x
Every line Rio wrote.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5lZeCXQlHA
Every bite of her lip.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxEQddBaheA
Every time her hair fell in her eyes and she didn’t fix it.
4:00 AM
Rio stretched, cracking her neck. “Done. I’m out.”
She grabbed her phone, stood up—
—but the door creaked open.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpclmDGnaXg
Han’s father stepped in.
“It’s late. You’ll stay here tonight,” he said. “Sleep on the bed with her. She’s not a stranger. She’s our guest.”
Rio froze. Han’s face dropped.
“I can sleep on the sofa,” Rio offered.
“It’s not safe. That’s final.”
The Bed
Two pillows. One thin blanket. Zero peace.
Rio lay on the edge, arms crossed. Staring at the ceiling.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIVPJ0xowNS
Han lay beside her, perfectly still.
Then—somewhere during the early morning—
Han turned. In her sleep. Slowly.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBMROyHGUog
Her arm wrapped around Rio’s waist. Her leg crossed over Rio’s thigh.
By the time Han woke up…
She was hugging Rio tight. Their faces inches apart.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2BozCChdme
Their breaths tangled like a secret.
Han gasped and shoved her away.
Rio groaned. Still half-asleep. “Ugh. It’s Sunday…”
Han turned away, trying to calm her racing heart.
But something had changed.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7OJEVy5vWo
The bed didn’t feel like war anymore.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7vnwyz1xsR
It felt like a line they weren’t ready to cross—but already had.
