My dance teacher is cute | Haobin

27 - Confession wrapped in Silence

Recommended songs for this chapter;
Fetish - Selena Gomez
Stay - Ari Abdul

POV: Hanbin | THURSDAY EVENING

I knew I was pushing too far the moment I asked him to define us—this chaos we had somehow gotten tangled in. The silence that followed was unbearable, every second stretching like an eternity as Hao stared into nothingness. A sinking feeling twisted in my gut.

What was I doing? I didn't just want to be an excitement for him, something he played with when it suited him.

I liked him.

More than I should.

And the worst part?

I was already too far in, too entangled in him to let go, even if he rejected me. I brushed my fingers through his hair, the strands soft and cool beneath my touch, as if it would somehow ease the tension I'd created between us. "You don't need to answer, sorry," I whispered, my voice fragile with uncertainty.

But then he looked at me, his expression unreadable. "How do you feel about me?" His voice cut through the quiet, sharp and cold, making my heart skip a beat. His tone was distant, even though we sat just inches apart. My chest tightened. Should I tell him? What if he brushed me off, rejected me without a second thought? But how could we move forward if we didn't know where we stood?

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath. The courage it took to speak felt like a weight on my chest. Slowly, I moved closer, taking his hand and pressing it against my heart.

Could he feel it?

How it was racing under his touch? His eyes widened, just a fraction, and in that brief moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd see how real this was for me.

"I like you, Hao," I whispered. My voice was soft, vulnerable.

His hand slipped away like I had burned him. He stared at me, his face pale, his expression shifting from shock to something darker, something that sent a chill down my spine. Disgust.

"Don't say that shit again," he spat, and I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me.

My chest tightened painfully, the sharp sting of rejection hitting harder than I thought it would. Did he really just...? I couldn't even process it. The words hung in the air like something toxic, and all I could do was stare at him as he turned away, retreating under the blanket. He didn't even look at me as he muttered, "Order food."

The shock lingered, freezing me in place. His face, the harshness in his voice, it was all seared into my mind.

He didn't like me.
He didn't want me.

And yet, I still couldn't let go. God, I was pathetic.

I should have known better than to fall for someone like him. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. But no matter how much I fought it, my heart wanted him, needed him in ways I couldn't explain.

I numbly pulled out my phone, ordering the food. As I waited, my feet carried me back to the bed, drawn to him even now. Despite everything, I couldn't stay away.

I didn't know what was going on with him, but the feeling gnawed at me. This wasn't like the other times—something felt off, heavy, like the air between us had shifted. It made my chest tighten with a mix of unease and frustration. I hated this feeling, this sense of being shut out when all I wanted was to get closer to him. The tension between us grew, like a thread stretched too thin, ready to snap.

I slid into bed beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight, but he didn't move. His back was to me, a silent wall I desperately wanted to break through. My arm hesitated before wrapping over him, my fingers brushing the soft fabric of his shirt as I pulled him closer.