Beyond Boundaries • A KNJ Fanfiction

27

He came back into the kitchen after putting the First aid kit back. There's a long silence between us.

We both stood there, staring at the untouched cups of coffee on the counter. The air around us was thick with unspoken words and emotions neither of us seemed ready to face.

It hit me then—we hadn't even taken a single sip. The coffee wasn’t really about coffee, was it? It was an excuse, a fragile attempt to avoid what was really brewing between us.

But instead of diffusing the tension, it had only deepened, wrapping around us like an invisible tether.

My heart thudded so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Every moment from before replayed in my mind—the way his hands had gripped my waist with such ease, lifting me onto the countertop as if I weighed nothing. The warmth of his touch, the closeness, the unyielding dominance in his voice.

And then there was that moment. The kiss on my knuckles.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the storm within me, but my thoughts betrayed me. Why did his eyes soften like that? There was something so genuine in the way he looked at me, almost as if he was trying to convey something his lips couldn’t say.

I glanced at him, hoping to find some clarity in his expression, but his face was unreadable now. The warmth he’d shown earlier was hidden behind a mask of composed calmness, but his gaze flickered back to the coffee cups and lingered for a moment, as if he too realized what had just unfolded between us.

I clenched my fingers against the countertop, hoping to ground myself, but all I could feel was the ghost of his lips on my skin. My heart raced faster, and the echo of its relentless thudding filled my ears. No amount of deep breaths could calm the fire raging inside me.

Why was this happening?

I stole another glance at him, and for a brief second, our eyes met. The intensity in his gaze was back, burning into mine, leaving me breathless.

Neither of us spoke, and yet the silence seemed louder than any words we could’ve exchanged. This tension—it wasn’t leaving. If anything, it had taken root, embedding itself between us, drawing us closer in a way I couldn’t explain.

I swallowed hard, my voice caught in my throat.

"Umm, drink coffee, you sai—" I began, trying to break the silence, but my words faltered as he cut me off with a soft, firm voice.

"No... Let's not drink coffee at this hour," he said, his eyes still fixed on me, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "We won't be able to sleep."

"Uh... yeah," I mumbled, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of my sweater. The weight of the moment lingered between us, thick and suffocating. My attempt to lighten the air had fallen flat, and now I felt more exposed than ever under his unwavering gaze.

He leaned slightly against the counter, his hands resting on the edge, his closeness making my pulse race again. The coffee cups sat abandoned, forgotten, much like the trivial conversation we had used as a shield just moments ago.

The silence wasn’t awkward—it was something far more intense. My eyes darted to the coffee machine, to the floor, to anywhere but his face, but I could still feel his presence like a magnetic pull.

"You seem nervous," he remarked, his tone low, yet laced with something that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Nervous?" I scoffed, though the slight quiver in my voice betrayed me. "Why would I be nervous? It's just... it's just coffee."

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

"Is it?"

His question hung in the air, unspoken meanings weaving into it, making me even more restless. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, I could only meet his gaze briefly before looking away again, my cheeks burning.