seol ah didn't believe in warmth. not the pretend kind people pasted across their faces like masks, or the fleeting comfort or half hearted complements and fake concern. she kept to herself, sat by the window in every class, and listen to the world with her eyes instead of her ears. her silence wasn't shy, it was calculated. chosen. it was armor.
most people didn't try with her anymore they had learned eventually that her silence wasn't an invitation. except for mi kyong.
mi kyong was the only person seol ah let close. she didn't talk much either, not when they were together. but she always bought two drinks, one for her and one for seol ah. she understood when silence was safer than small talk. maybe that's why they worked.
but no amount of silence could drone out him.
min seok was the male version of everything seol ah hated. arrogant. distant. sharp-edged with his words, and equally detached from everyone around him, of course the way he carried himself, the way he never tried too hard but still managed to be good at everything. he didn't care about praise. or people. that was obvious.
min seok had one person, minho, who'd stuck to him like he'd grown roots at min seok's side. it made no sense, really. minho was loud and warm and full of unnecessary opinions. but somehow, min seok tolerated him. maybe even trusted him.
everyone else? disposable.
especially seol ah.
their mutual hatred was a known fact. they didn't argue outright, not usually. their words were quiet, sharper, the kind of venom that didn't need to raise its voice to sting.
they'd first clashed in their freshman year, when seol ah had corrected him during a group project presentation. he'd made an mistake in his explanation, rare, but real and she'd pointed it out with her usual detached confidence. he hadn't appreciated her correction. she hadn't appreciated his ego.
that was three years ago.
it hadn't thawed since.
———
it started the same way everyday.
seol ah walked the halls like a ghost, cutting through halls that parted without touching her. her long black coast swept behind her like a shadow. her earbuds were always in, though no one ever asked what she was listening to.
today, she was heading toward the library, one of her favorite escapes, quiet, warm in its own way, but always empty during lunch.
she didn't expect anyone to be at the door. but there he was.
min seok, leaning again the frame like he owned the place.
they locked eyes before either could avoid it.
his arms were crossed, expression unreadable but already laced with irritation. "out of the way, ice queen," he muttered, shifting slightly as she approached.
seol ah didn't pause. "still compensating for your lack of personality with name calling?" she relied smoothly, brushing ost him as if he were no more significant then a breeze.
he eyes narrowed. "you'd know all about being lifeless."
she didn't give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction and just pushed open the door and disappeared inside.
minho spread behind min seok moments later, holding a drink and grinning like he'd just witnessed comedy gold. "wow. that was ice on ice."
"she started it," min seok muttered, walking toward the hallway with no real destination in mind.
minho raised an eyebrow. "you two are always like this. you ever thought that maybe…i dunno, you fight because you guys are too alike?"
min seok shot him a glare. "i'd rather die."
meanwhile, inside the library, mi kyong slide into the seat across from seol ah with practiced ease. she placed a strawberry milk on the table. "let me guess," she said, not even bothering to look at her friend. "min seok again"
seol ah sipped the drink with out looking up from her notebook. "if i kill him do you think they'd give me detention, or a medal?"
mi kyong snorted. "probably both."
silence settled between them, comforting and familiar. outside the tall windows, clouds hung low and gray, pressing against the school itself like the sky itself was trying to suffocate something.
and somewhere in the back of seol ah's mind no matter how much she hated it, min seok's voice echoed. the way he'd said her name last week, laced with annoyance but something else too. the way he looked at her during their argument in literature class. the way he never look at anyone else the same way he looked at her, like she was a puzzle he hated having to solve.
she scowled and shook the thought away.
across campus, min seol sat on the rooftop steps, pretending not to notice the way his mind kept drifting back to the sound of her footsteps and the way her voice didn't tremble when she spoke to him — the only one who ever spoke to him that way, he hated it. hated her.
they didn't like each other.
they didn't need each other.
and yet, everyone their paths crossed, something shifted. just a little.
neither of them would admit it, not yet, but the frost between them way beginning to crack.