Chapter Text
One year later, things between them had already settled into something steady.
Not perfect, not quiet.
Just certain.
“Ian.” Stella called, voice calm but carrying that familiar patience, as she kept her eyes on the paper in front of her.
No response.
“Ian.” she repeated, a little firmer this time, still not looking up but clearly expecting something to change.
Still nothing.
Stella didn’t look up from the paper in front of her, pen moving smoothly across the page, her expression composed as ever, almost unbothered on the surface.
But her voice carried a quiet warning now, subtle but unmistakable to anyone who knew her well.
“Ian, if you don't move—” she began, tone steady, already anticipating disruption.
“I’m not doing anything.” Ian mumbled against her shoulder, voice muffled, completely unbothered by the accusation.
That was a lie, even if she said it like it was the most honest thing in the world.
She was very much doing something, and she knew it.
Specifically, she was pressed up against Stella’s side like she had no intention of ever moving again, arms loosely wrapped around her waist, cheek resting against her shoulder as if she had permanently decided that this was her place now.
Which—unfortunately for Stella’s productivity and her carefully structured focus—it kind of was, and had been for a while now.
“You’re blocking my arm.” Stella said flatly, though there was no real heat in it anymore, just routine acknowledgment.
“I’m supporting you.” Ian replied immediately, as if it were obvious, her voice light and self-satisfied.
“You’re not supporting me.” Stella countered without looking up, continuing her writing despite the added weight.
“I'm emotionally supporting you.” Ian corrected, shifting slightly like that explained everything perfectly.
Stella finally paused, her pen hovering slightly above the paper as if she was reconsidering the entire situation for half a second.
She turned her head just enough to glance at Ian, who looked entirely unbothered, like she hadn’t just disrupted ten minutes of focused work on purpose and without remorse.
“You're very disruptive.” Stella said, voice even, as if stating a fact she had long accepted.
Ian smiled lazily, completely unbothered by the label. “And you like me anyway.” she replied, tone light, confident, like it was simply a known truth of the universe.
“…That's not relevant.” Stella said after a beat, returning her gaze forward.
“It is very relevant.” Ian insisted, tightening her hold slightly just to test the boundary again.
Ian shifted slightly, pressing closer in a way that was more comfortable than provocative now, like she was testing just how much Stella would tolerate without actually expecting resistance anymore.
Which, at this point—after everything—was a lot more than anyone else would have been allowed.
Stella exhaled softly, turning her attention back to her work as if surrendering the argument without officially conceding it.
“You said you would behave today.” she reminded, tone flat but familiar.
“I am behaving.” Ian replied instantly, completely confident in her own interpretation of reality.
“You climbed onto a desk earlier.” Stella added, not even looking up as she said it.
“I had a reason.” Ian said, as if that explained the physics of it.
“You stood on a chair to reach a banner that was already within your reach.” Stella continued, voice steady, unimpressed in the most controlled way possible.
Ian lifted her head slightly, just enough to look at her properly now, expression briefly thoughtful before she answered honestly.
“Okay, that one—I admit—that was unnecessary.” she said, tone lighter now, like she was conceding a small point in a long war.
“Unnecessary.” Stella repeated, as if committing it to record.
“But impressive.” Ian added immediately, refusing to lose entirely.
“It wasn't impressive.” Stella replied without hesitation.
Ian grinned anyway, completely satisfied with herself.
Then, without warning or buildup, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Stella’s cheek, casual and familiar, like it was simply part of the conversation now rather than something remarkable.
Soft, casual, like it was nothing.
Like it happened all the time without thought or effort.
Which—
It did.
Stella didn’t flinch, didn’t react much at all, as if her body had long since accepted this as normal.
But her pen stopped moving for a moment anyway, just for a fraction of time that gave her away more than her expression ever did.
“You’re distracting.” she said after a moment, voice flat again, though slightly softer around the edges.
“You say that every time.” Ian replied immediately, unbothered and clearly proud of the consistency.
“And it remains true every time.” Stella responded without looking up again.
Ian hummed softly, clearly unconcerned, then let her head fall back onto Stella’s shoulder again as if resetting the situation to default.
“Take a break.” Ian said, more gently now than before.
“I don’t need a break.” Stella replied automatically, already preparing her next line of work.
“You’ve been working for an hour straight.” Ian countered, watching her closely now.
“That’s not excessive.” Stella said calmly, as if the concept itself was subjective.
“It is when your girlfriend is right here and you’re ignoring her.” Ian added, voice lighter but pointed in its own way.
Stella paused again, pen hovering once more as she processed that phrasing specifically.
“…I’m not ignoring you.” she said after a moment, measured and careful.
“You are.” Ian replied immediately, without hesitation.
“I'm responding to you.”
“That’s the bare minimum.”
Stella finally set her pen down, slowly, deliberately, like she was acknowledging a shift in the moment.
Then she turned slightly in her seat, just enough to face Ian properly now instead of speaking over her shoulder.
“You're very demanding.” Stella said, tone steady, not accusatory, just observant.
Ian lit up immediately, like that was praise. “You love that.” she replied instantly.
Stella held her gaze for a second longer than usual, then answered without hesitation.
“…Yes.” she said quietly.
Ian blinked once, clearly not expecting the directness, then broke into a grin anyway.
“You’re getting honest lately.” she teased, softer now.
“I've always been honest.” Stella replied, as if correcting a misconception.
“No, you used to be scary honest.” Ian countered, leaning in slightly again.
“And now?” Stella asked.
Ian leaned closer, studying her like she was the answer.
“Now you’re soft.” she said simply.
Stella didn’t deny it.
The campus hadn’t changed much in a year, still carrying the same quiet structure it always had, as if time itself preferred repetition here.
Same buildings, same routines, same expectations.
But the way people reacted to them—
That had definitely changed, in a way that was impossible to ignore anymore.
Mostly because they had stopped pretending, stopped lowering their voices or adjusting their distance just to make things less obvious.
Not that they had been subtle before, because they really hadn’t, not even close.
But now, there was no effort to hide anything, no hesitation left in the way they moved around each other.
Ian didn’t hold back, not even slightly, letting every impulse show without filtering it anymore.
And Stella didn’t stop her, not anymore, just letting things be as they were instead of correcting them.
Which meant—
Everyone saw everything, whether they wanted to or not.
“Are they always like that?” someone asked from the side, voice low but clearly curious.
“Yes.” came the immediate answer, simple and certain.
“Every day?” the first voice pressed again, as if hoping the answer might somehow change.
“Every day.” the reply came without hesitation, final in its consistency.
Across the courtyard, A-na leaned against the railing, standing close enough that her shoulder lightly brushed Yuha’s as they both watched Ian practically drape herself over Stella again like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Yuha stood beside her, arms crossed neatly, expression calm as she observed the same scene without reacting much at all.
“They're more consistent now.” Yuha said, tone even, like she was simply stating a fact she had long since accepted.
“That’s one way to put it.” A-na muttered under her breath, eyes still fixed on them.
Juun sighed quietly, almost fondly, as she watched the same direction. “At least they’re not arguing anymore.” she said softly, as if that alone was progress worth noting.
“They still argue.” Ye-on added softly, voice gentle, already used to their pattern.
“Yeah, but now it ends with them kissing instead of storming off.” A-na said, shaking her head slightly as if she still couldn’t fully process it.
Carmen laughed lightly at that, warm and amused. “That’s improvement.” she said, clearly entertained by the contrast.
Jiwoo nodded once, calm and certain. “Significant improvement.” she agreed, as if that settled the matter completely.
“Stop staring.” Stella said flatly, without even looking up at first, already aware of where this was going.
“I’m not staring.” Ian replied immediately, far too quickly to be convincing.
“You’re literally staring.” Stella added after a beat, finally glancing in her direction with quiet exasperation.
Ian didn’t even try to deny it this time, because there was no point anymore and she knew it.
She was very obviously watching Stella again, completely unbothered by being caught.
They were sitting outside now, on one of the benches near the courtyard, Stella reading through a set of documents while Ian sat beside her, legs stretched out in a way that suggested she had absolutely no intention of doing anything productive.
Except stare.
“I'm observing.” Ian corrected, as if that made it sound more reasonable.
“You've been observing for fifteen minutes.” Stella replied without looking up from her papers.
“And I’m still not done.” Ian added casually, like it was an ongoing task she was committed to finishing properly.
Stella didn’t look up at all this time. “There's nothing new to observe.” she said, voice calm, as if that was obvious.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Ian said, shifting slightly closer like she was preparing to prove a point.
“There’s always something new.” she added, voice lower now, more certain than playful.
“That’s illogical.” Stella responded immediately, still focused on her documents.
“You’re illogical.” Ian shot back without missing a beat.
“I'm not.” Stella said, finally sounding slightly more defensive than before.
“You are when you pretend you don’t like attention.” Ian continued, leaning in just enough to be annoying on purpose.
“I don’t—” Stella started, but she didn’t get to finish.
Ian cut her off by leaning in and kissing her, like she had decided words were no longer necessary for this conversation.
This time slower, more intentional than the teasing interruptions before.
Still brief, still controlled, but deliberate in a way that made it impossible to ignore.
Stella froze for half a second, more out of habit than surprise now.
Then pulled back just slightly, enough to speak again.
“…We're in public.” she said, voice steady but quieter than before.
“And?” Ian replied immediately, like that detail meant very little to her.
“And people are looking.” Stella added, finally glancing around briefly.
Ian glanced around as well, only now acknowledging it properly.
People were definitely looking, some pretending not to, others not even trying.
She turned back to Stella with a grin that didn’t even try to hide anything anymore.
“I don’t care.” she said simply, like that was exactly what she wanted.
Stella sighed, long and controlled, but she didn’t move away this time.
Later that afternoon, things slowed down, as if the entire campus collectively exhaled after the noise of earlier.
The noise of campus faded into something softer, quieter, almost distant compared to earlier energy.
Ian and Stella found themselves in one of the empty classrooms they’d claimed long ago—the same one they kept returning to without really deciding to, as if their feet remembered it even when their schedules didn’t.
It wasn’t just familiar, it was theirs in a quiet, unspoken way that no one else seemed to question anymore.
Now it was different, not because the place had changed, but because they had.
Ian sat on top of one of the desks, swinging her legs lightly like she had nowhere else she needed to be.
Stella stood in front of her, organizing papers she didn’t actually need to organize anymore but did anyway out of habit.
“You don’t have to keep working.” Ian said, watching her closely.
“I'm not overworking.” Stella replied automatically, not even pausing her movements.
“You are.” Ian said again, like she was stating something obvious.
“I'm being efficient.” Stella corrected, tone steady and unchanged.
“You’re avoiding.” Ian added, softer now, more observant than teasing.
Stella paused for a moment.
“…Avoiding what?” she asked after a beat, finally looking up slightly.
Ian tilted her head, watching her carefully for a reaction that never really came.
“Nothing,” she said after a pause, letting the tension dissolve again. “Just wanted to see your reaction.”
Stella narrowed her eyes slightly, but there was no real anger behind it anymore. “You’re so annoying.” she said, like she had accepted this fact long ago.
“You love it.” Ian replied immediately, like it was the most natural conclusion in the world.
“…Yes.” Stella admitted after a moment, quiet but certain.
Ian smiled softly this time, not teasing, not pushing, just looking at her like she already knew everything she needed to know.
“Come here.” she said, patting the space in front of her lightly.
Stella hesitated for a fraction of a second, just out of habit, before stepping closer anyway.
Ian reached out, fingers lightly catching the front of her sleeve, pulling her just a little closer until the distance between them disappeared into something familiar.
Close enough to feel the warmth between them, close enough that the space disappeared completely, like it had never mattered in the first place.
“You’re not even pretending anymore.” Ian murmured, watching her closely.
“Pretending what?” Stella asked, though she already knew where this was going.
“That you don’t want this.” Ian said simply, no longer teasing.
Stella didn’t answer immediately, just looked at her for a long moment instead.
Then—
“I don’t see a reason to pretend.” she said quietly, voice even and certain.
Ian’s expression shifted slightly at that, something softer settling into her gaze.
“Good.” she said after a beat.
She leaned forward again, slower this time, giving Stella time to move away if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
Their lips met.
Stella’s hand lifted instinctively, resting lightly against Ian’s shoulder without thinking about it anymore.
Not pushing, not pulling.
Just there, steady and certain.
Ian smiled faintly against her lips before pulling back slowly.
“See?” she whispered, like she had proved something important.
Stella exhaled softly, eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary.
“You’re still very distracting.” she said, tone flat but familiar.
“And you’re still letting me.” Ian replied immediately, like that was the only important detail.
“…Yes.” Stella admitted again, quietly.
Later, as the sun dipped lower and the campus began to quiet down, they walked together, no longer in any rush to be anywhere else.
Side by side, moving at the same pace without needing to adjust anymore.
Close, but not rushed, like they had finally figured out how to exist in the same space without effort.
Ian’s hand brushed against Stella’s once, then again, testing the distance out of habit more than necessity.
Then, without hesitation, she laced their fingers together fully, holding on like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Stella didn’t react, didn’t question it, didn’t resist.
Just adjusted her grip slightly, settling into it instead of away from it.
Comfortable, natural, like it had always been that way, even before it was.
“So,” Ian said lightly, swinging their joined hands a little as they walked, “you gonna tell me more about your day or are you just gonna stay mysterious forever?”
“My day was uneventful.” Stella replied after a moment, voice calm as always.
“That’s boring.” Ian said immediately, unimpressed.
“It was productive.” Stella added, like that justified everything.
“That’s also boring.” Ian countered again without hesitation.
Ian glanced at her properly now, studying her expression like she always did.
“You know what’s not boring?” she asked after a pause.
“What?” Stella replied, not looking away from the path ahead.
“This.” Ian said, lifting their joined hands slightly between them.
Stella looked at them properly this time.
Then back at Ian.
“…Yes.” she said simply, like she had accepted that truth already.
Ian smiled, satisfied with that answer.
“And you.” she added, softer now.
Stella didn’t respond immediately, just kept walking beside her.
Then, quietly—
“You as well.” she said, like it cost nothing and meant everything at the same time.
Ian grinned instantly. “Wow, that was almost romantic.” she teased lightly.
“It wasn't almost romantic.” Stella replied without missing a beat.
“It was.” Ian insisted, amused.
“It was factual.” Stella corrected calmly.
“Sure.” Ian said, still smiling.
They kept walking, hands still linked, steps aligned without needing to think about it anymore.
Close, easy, uncomplicated.
Morning light spilled softly through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting pale gold across rows of desks that were slowly filling with students.
Stella sat near the front, as usual, her posture already set in place like it belonged to the desk itself, as if even the idea of disorder didn’t apply to her.
Straight posture, neatly arranged notes, pen aligned perfectly with the edge of her notebook, as if even small disorder would be noticeable if left unchecked.
Composed, unbothered.
At least—visually.
Because five minutes ago, someone had texted her, and she had been staring at it longer than necessary, pretending it didn’t affect her focus.
Stella exhaled softly through her nose, resisting the urge to smile at the persistence alone, like it was something she had already accepted as part of her day.
She didn’t reply.
A few seconds passed, stretching into something intentionally ignored.
Then—
The classroom door opened.
Not quietly, not subtly.
Ian walked in like she owned the place, her presence immediate and impossible to ignore, cutting through the room’s calm like it had never applied to her in the first place.
A few heads turned, some already used to it, others still caught off guard by how easily she disrupted normalcy without even trying.
Her eyes scanned the room.
Then found Stella.
A grin spread across her face, like she had already decided the outcome before entering.
She didn’t hesitate.
She walked straight down the aisle and dropped into the seat beside Stella like it had always been hers, claiming space with complete certainty and no hesitation at all.
“You ignored me.” Ian said, leaning back in her chair like she had no intention of pretending otherwise, voice carrying faint complaint wrapped in amusement that softened the edge.
“You knew where I was.” Stella replied calmly, not looking at her, as if that alone should have been sufficient explanation for everything.
“That’s not the point.” Ian said immediately, shifting slightly in her seat as if offended that logic was being used against her again.
“It counts.” Stella replied, tone even, already treating the situation like something that could be solved mathematically.
Ian clicked her tongue. “You’re so cold.” she said, like it was an observation she had made too many times to count.
“I'm in class.” Stella replied, as if that alone justified her entire existence at that moment.
Ian leaned slightly closer, invading space with practiced ease rather than hesitation.
“And I came all the way here for you.” she said, like effort alone should have carried emotional weight.
“You came here because you have the same class.” Stella replied, finally glancing at her with mild correction in her gaze, unbothered by the theatrics.
“Details.” Ian said instantly, brushing it off like facts were optional when inconvenient.
Stella finally glanced at her fully, taking her in properly now.
Ian was already looking at her, like she had been waiting for that exact moment the entire time.
Too close, too focused.
It made something in Stella’s chest shift—just slightly, like recognition she refused to label.
“You’re staring again.” Stella said, voice flat but quieter than before, as if the awareness had softened her tone without permission.
“I like looking at you.” Ian replied without hesitation, like it was something she didn’t need to think about before saying.
“That’s unnecessary.” Stella said, though her voice didn’t carry real rejection, only controlled restraint.
Ian smiled, softer this time, less teasing and more certain. “You don’t mean that.” she said, like she was stating something already proven.
Stella didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t.
The lecture went on.
Ian didn’t.
She lasted about ten minutes before she got bored, which she considered a personal achievement rather than a failure.
Her pen tapped lightly against the desk, rhythm uneven, while her leg bounced once, twice, before stopping abruptly when Stella’s hand moved—briefly—resting against her knee without warning or explanation.
Not holding.
Just there.
Ian stilled immediately, her attention snapping into place faster than she admitted.
“…You did that on purpose.” she murmured, voice lower now, turning her head slightly toward Stella with narrowed curiosity.
“You were being distracting.” Stella replied, still looking forward, as if nothing unusual had occurred at all.
“So you touched me?” Ian asked, faint amusement returning, though her tone had softened into something quieter.
“To make you stop.” Stella said, voice calm, like it was the simplest solution available.
Ian tilted her head slightly, studying her like she was analyzing something unfamiliar but interesting. “You could’ve just told me.” she said.
“You don't listen.” Stella replied, without even glancing at her, already certain of the outcome.
“That’s true.” Ian admitted immediately, with no argument or defense at all.
A pause.
Then Ian leaned just a little closer again, lowering her voice as if sharing something private.
“But I listen to you.” she said.
Stella didn’t respond.
But her hand didn’t move away either.
After class, the hallway was crowded, filled with overlapping movement and noise that never fully settled into anything organized.
Students moving in different directions, conversations overlapping, footsteps echoing against polished floors in uneven rhythm that filled every gap.
Stella walked through it like she always did—steady, focused, unaffected by anything around her.
Ian walked beside her.
Not beside, actually.
Closer than that, like distance had no real meaning when she decided otherwise.
Her arm brushed against Stella’s every few steps, casual in appearance but consistent enough to feel intentional.
She wasn’t trying to keep distance.
She never really did.
“Where are you going?” Ian asked, glancing sideways at her with lazy curiosity.
“Council room.” Stella replied, already knowing this conversation was about to continue itself.
“Again?” Ian said, stretching the word slightly like it personally offended her.
“Yes.” Stella replied simply, without elaboration.
“You’re always working.” Ian said, like she was observing something she couldn’t fully understand.
“I have responsibilities.” Stella replied, steady as ever, without breaking stride.
Ian hummed. “You also have me.” she said, like it should have been included automatically.
“That’s not a responsibility.” Stella replied immediately, without hesitation or consideration.
“It should be.” Ian said lightly, like she was suggesting a correction to the system.
Stella glanced at her. “You're not a task to manage.” she said, firm but not harsh.
“I could be.” Ian replied, completely serious for a moment too long to be a joke.
“Ian.” Stella said, tone sharpening slightly with warning rather than anger.
“What?” Ian replied, completely unbothered by it.
“You're being ridiculous.” Stella said, though her voice carried no real frustration beneath it.
“And you like it.”
“I tolerate it.”
“Same thing.” Ian said immediately, like the distinction didn’t matter.
“It is not.” Stella said, continuing forward without pause.
Ian laughed, bumping her shoulder lightly against Stella’s in a small, familiar motion.
Stella didn’t move away.
The student council room was quiet when they entered, structured silence replacing the chaos outside.
Empty.
Papers neatly stacked, chairs aligned, the faint scent of coffee lingering from earlier meetings that had already ended without her noticing.
Ian immediately walked in like she belonged there, without hesitation or permission.
Again.
“You’re not supposed to just walk in.” Stella said, watching her with mild disapproval that wasn’t entirely convincing.
“You let me.” Ian replied instantly, already moving further inside like that settled everything.
“That does not mean you have permission.” Stella said, though her tone lacked real enforcement.
“It kinda does.” Ian replied, dropping into a chair like it had been assigned to her personally.
Stella didn’t argue.
Because it was true.
Ian spun the chair slightly before stopping herself halfway through, as if remembering she was supposed to behave at least theoretically.
“Boring.” she muttered, leaning back slightly as if the word itself carried all her dissatisfaction with the situation.
“You chose to come here.” Stella said, setting her folder down with controlled precision, aligning it as she always did, each edge placed perfectly before she let her hand rest beside it.
“I chose to be with you.” Ian replied casually, like it wasn’t a big statement at all, as if it slipped out of her naturally rather than deliberately.
A pause.
That was different.
Stella slowed slightly, her movements becoming more deliberate as she processed it without showing it outwardly, her attention lingering just a fraction longer than usual.
Ian watched her.
Carefully, quietly, like she was tracking every small reaction Stella refused to display.
“You’ve been weird lately.” Ian said, tilting her head slightly as she studied her face more directly.
“I have not.” Stella replied immediately, defensive only in precision, not in emotion, correcting it as if accuracy mattered more than tone.
“You have.” Ian said without hesitation, certain in her observation, like she had already run through every example in her head.
“That's subjective.” Stella replied, straightening slightly as if that alone reinforced her point.
Ian leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees as her tone shifted, losing some of its teasing edge. “You’ve been quieter.” she said, watching her more closely now.
“I'm always quiet.” Stella replied, as if that were an established fact rather than a defense.
“No,” Ian said, softer now, less playful and more observant. “Not like this.”
Stella stilled.
That wasn't something people usually noticed.
Ian noticed everything.
“…I'm fine.” Stella said, after a brief pause that lasted just long enough to be noticeable if someone was paying attention.
Ian didn’t respond immediately.
She just looked at her.
Studying, patient, unbothering in a way that didn’t pressure but didn’t look away either.
Then—
“Okay.” she said, finally, simply letting it go without resistance.
Just that, without pressure or demand, like she was choosing not to push further even if she could have.
It made something in Stella’s chest feel heavier than it should have, though she didn’t acknowledge it outwardly.
Later that afternoon, they ended up outside, where the air felt less compressed, like the world itself had loosened its grip.
The campus courtyard was quieter now, most students already gone or elsewhere, leaving only scattered movement in the distance.
A soft breeze moved through the trees, leaves shifting gently overhead in slow, uneven patterns.
Ian sat on the edge of a low stone ledge, one leg swinging idly without rhythm while Stella stood in front of her, reviewing something on her phone with focused attention.
“You’re working again.” Ian said, leaning back slightly on her hands as she watched her.
“Yes.” Stella replied, not looking up, already anticipating the complaint.
“You said you were done.” Ian said, tilting her head slightly as if reminding her of a previous promise.
“I said I was almost done.” Stella replied, tone unchanged.
“That’s basically the same thing.” Ian said, as if the distinction was purely theoretical.
“It’s not.” Stella replied, final in tone.
Ian sighed dramatically, leaning back further on her hands like the situation had personally drained her patience.
“You love your work more than me.” she said, watching for a reaction that didn’t come easily.
“That’s incorrect.” Stella replied immediately, without hesitation or change in tone, as if the answer had already been decided long ago.
“Prove it.” Ian said, lifting her chin slightly as if presenting a challenge she fully expected to be taken.
Stella looked up.
“…How?” she asked, slower now, as if the question itself required clarification.
“Give me attention.” Ian said, tilting her head slightly as she spoke, like it was the simplest demand in the world.
“I'm talking to you.” Stella replied, steady and factual.
“That’s not enough.” Ian said, watching her more directly now.
“You’re demanding.” Stella said, though there was no real accusation in it.
“I know.” Ian replied easily, completely unbothered by the label.
Stella exhaled softly, then stepped closer, closing the distance without hesitation or interruption, as if she had already decided.
Close enough that Ian’s swinging leg slowed on instinct before stopping entirely, the motion fading as awareness replaced it.
“You’re receiving attention.” Stella said, standing firmly in front of her now.
Ian looked up at her.
Their distance—
Was minimal now.
“Not enough.” Ian murmured, almost immediately, like the gap still felt unchanged to her.
Stella hesitated.
Just for a second.
Ian lifted her hand slightly—
and pointed at her lips.
Subtle, wordless, but unmistakable.
Stella stared at her.
In disbelief, in irritation, in something else she refused to define out loud, though it lingered just beneath her expression.
“…You’re unbelievable.” Stella muttered under her breath, voice tight with controlled restraint, as if holding herself together by habit alone.
Ian didn’t move, didn’t take it back.
She just watched her—
waiting, patient in a way that wasn’t rushed or forced, but absolutely certain.
Like she already knew.
Stella exhaled sharply.
“You just—” she started, then stopped, shaking her head faintly. “You really don’t know when to stop.” she said, voice lower now, controlled but not cold.
Ian’s lips curved slightly.
“Mm.” she said, simple and noncommittal, not denying anything at all.
That wasn’t a denial.
Stella clicked her tongue softly, clearly annoyed.
But she didn’t step back, didn’t walk away.
And that—
that was already an answer.
“…You’re impossible.” Stella said quietly, like she was admitting it rather than accusing it.
Then she reached forward.
Her hand came up to Ian’s collar.
Pulled her in.
And kissed her.
It wasn’t soft, not hesitant.
It was brief—
but firm, intentional, like she was proving something.
Ian stilled for a fraction of a second, caught off guard in a way she rarely was.
Then she leaned into it just slightly, just enough to respond without taking over, just enough to meet it.
And then it was over.
Stella pulled back first.
Fast.
Like she had chosen retreat immediately after action, before it could settle into anything more.
Her grip loosened.
Her gaze shifted away.
Annoyed, flustered.
“…There,” she said, voice tight. “Satisfied?”
Ian looked at her.
Really looked.
“…Mm.” she hummed again.
Then, quieter—
“Better.”
Stella’s eye twitched.
But she didn’t deny it, didn’t take it back.
And that—
said more than anything else.
They stayed like that for a while.
Not speaking much.
Not needing to.
Comfortable silence settled between them, unfamiliar at first but no longer strange, like something slowly becoming natural rather than accidental.
“You never talk about your family.” Stella said suddenly, as if choosing her timing with intent and weighing the exact weight of each word before letting it land.
Ian blinked.
That—
Came out of nowhere, clean and direct, cutting through whatever ease had settled between them.
“…What about them?” she asked, slower now, like she was deciding how much to engage and how much to keep behind her usual loosened expression.
“You avoid the topic.” Stella said, steady as always, voice even and controlled like she was stating something factual rather than accusing.
“I don’t avoid it.” Ian replied immediately, too quickly to be casual, like the answer left her before she had time to soften it.
“You redirect it.” Stella said, not changing her tone, only observing the pattern as she had quietly noticed it over time.
Ian let out a small laugh. “You’ve been observing me?” she asked, amused but slightly guarded, leaning just a little back as if putting space between the question and herself.
“Yes.” Stella replied, simply, without hesitation or justification.
“Creepy.” Ian said, though not unkindly, more like an automatic label than a real judgment.
“It’s called paying attention.” Stella replied, unchanged, as if the word choice itself didn’t matter as much as the accuracy behind it.
Ian looked away slightly, her expression shifting just a fraction more than usual, like something behind her tone tightened before she let it settle again.
“They’re just… family.” she said, casually, but the pause before it lingered a little too long to feel empty.
“That is vague.” Stella said, not pressing yet but not letting it dissolve either.
“Not everything needs detail,” Ian said, leaning back slightly as if creating distance from the topic, stretching the space between her words and what she meant.
Stella watched her carefully, eyes steady in a way that suggested she had already noticed more than she was saying.
“You don’t like talking about them.” she said, quiet but certain, like she was confirming something rather than guessing.
Ian shrugged. “There’s nothing interesting to say.” she said, too casual for how deliberate it sounded, like she had practiced making it sound like nothing.
That wasn’t true.
And Stella knew it.
But she didn’t push.
“…Understood.” she said simply, letting it rest without further inquiry, as if choosing restraint over insistence.
Ian glanced at her, surprised, like she had expected resistance that didn’t come.
“You’re not gonna interrogate me?” she asked, testing the space between them with mild disbelief.
“I wouldn't call it interrogation.” Stella replied, calm and precise, as if correcting the framing more than the action itself.
“You totally would.” Ian said, a faint smile returning, testing her again.
“Ian.” Stella said, mildly warning now, just enough firmness to be noticeable without turning sharp.
“What?” Ian replied, like she had done nothing wrong and fully intended to keep it that way.
“If you don't want to talk about something, I will not force you,” Stella said, steady and unchanging, each word measured like a line she had already decided she would not cross.
A pause.
Ian stared at her.
Longer this time, less playful, more searching than usual.
“…You’re different.” she said quietly, like she was noting a shift she hadn’t expected to see up close.
Stella tilted her head slightly. “In what way?” she asked, genuinely unsure rather than defensive, her curiosity restrained but present.
Ian smiled faintly, softer now, less like a challenge and more like recognition.
“You don’t push when it matters.” she said, like she was still figuring out whether that was real or temporary.
Stella didn’t respond.
Because she didn’t fully understand what that meant, or why it was said like it carried weight she hadn’t assigned to it.
Ian turned slightly, walking backwards just to face Stella properly, as if refusing to let the moment pass without staying in it.
Grinning again, lighter now.
“Hey.” she said, playful again but softer than before, like the edge had been filed down slightly by the conversation.
“You’ll trip.” Stella said immediately, already anticipating it, voice flat but alert, eyes tracking her movement without needing to move herself.
“I won’t.” Ian replied, stepping carefully but still backwards.
“You will.” Stella said.
“I won’t.” Ian said.
“You're not looking at where you're going.” Stella said, tone unchanged but watchful.
“I’m looking at you.” Ian replied, simple and direct, like it solved everything in her mind.
“That’s exactly the issue.” Stella said, almost immediately, like the logic was obvious only to her.
Ian laughed, light and unbothered.
Then reached out—
Grabbing Stella’s wrist lightly, not pulling forcefully, just anchoring her attention.
Pulling her just a little closer as they walked, enough to adjust the distance without breaking stride.
“You shine, you know that?” Ian said, slower now, less teasing than before, like the words had shifted weight mid-sentence.
Stella blinked.
“…That’s an unusual statement.” she said, almost automatically, as if her mind reached for structure before meaning.
“It’s true.” Ian replied, simply, without flourish or defense.
“In what context?” Stella asked, her gaze steady on Ian as if trying to pin the statement down into something measurable or logical.
“In every context.” Ian said, voice easy and certain, a faint smile lingering as she spoke like the answer had never been in question, not even for a second.
Stella looked at her.
Really looked.
Ian’s expression wasn’t teasing now.
Not playful, not exaggerated.
Just honest.
“You shine when you’re being you.” Ian added quietly, like it wasn’t meant to impress, only to state what she saw.
A pause.
Something settled in Stella’s chest.
Warm, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.
“…You’re saying unnecessary things again.” she said, softer than before, as if trying to regain balance.
Ian grinned. “And you’re pretending you don’t like it.” she replied, easy again, but not loud about it.
Stella didn’t deny it.
Again.
They kept walking.
Still close, still aligned, still good.
For now.