Secrets Of The Shadows | On Hold

Ch•2

The following morning unfolded like any other, with Taryong finishing her breakfast and preparing to return the book she had borrowed the previous week. Her mother, observing her with a watchful eye, finally broke the silence.

"Where are you off to, dear?" she inquired, her tone laced with concern. Taryong turned, clutching her bag and headphones tightly.

"I'm just heading to the library to return a book, Mom. I’ll be back shortly," she replied, ready to step out the door when her mother grasped her arm firmly.

"Have you forgotten about the news? You’re not going anywhere, especially not to that library. You can return the book later," her mother insisted, her grip unyielding.

Taryong turned to face her mother, a mix of frustration and determination in her eyes. "Mom, do you really believe everything the media says? They thrive on sensationalism. I promise I’ll be back soon." With that, she hurried out of the house before her mother could voice any further objections.

To her surprise, Taryong arrived at the library faster than she had anticipated. However, the atmosphere felt unusually eerie compared to her previous visits. She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a figure slipped in, preventing them from shutting completely. Taryong looked up to find it was the same hooded stranger she had encountered the day before.

Despite her skepticism about the media's alarming reports, a shiver of unease ran through her. Determined to break the oppressive silence, she ventured, "Excuse me, which floor are you headed to?" The figure remained silent, prompting Taryong to reconsider her approach. She raised her hand to press the button, only to find their hands brushing against each other as they both reached for the same control.

Startled, she quickly withdrew her hand, feeling the chill radiating from his touch. The stranger pressed the button, and they arrived at the second floor. Taryong stepped out hastily, the figure following her into the quiet expanse of the library.

The silence enveloped them, broken only by the sound of their footsteps echoing against the polished floor. Taryong placed the book back on the shelf, her phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out to check the message, revealing a text from her best friend, Jimin.

Jimin: Hey there. 
Taeyong: Yes, mochi? 
Jimin: How's that guy doing? 
Taeyong: Which guy are you talking about? 
Jimin: Your uncle's new stepson. 
Taeyong: Oh, right! I haven't had the chance to meet him yet. 
Jimin: Ooh, let me know if he gives you any trouble. I’ll take care of him. 
Taeyong: That's so cringy! 
Jimin: Whatever, I have to go. Bye! 
Taeyong: Cool. 

Setting her phone down on the table, Taeyong was about to rise when her gaze fell upon a figure seated across from her. He was engrossed in a book titled 'Bite Me.'

How on earth did he get there without me noticing? Taeyong wondered, rising from her chair and moving toward a nearby shelf.

As she perused the titles, a hand suddenly rested on the shelf beside her. The sensation sent a jolt of discomfort through her; her heart raced, loud enough to echo in her ears.

"W-what are you doing...?" Taeyong stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as the stranger leaned in closer, his hand finding its way to the nape of her neck.

In an instant, he pulled her toward him, and Taeyong gasped at the unexpected force. She struggled to break free, but he was far stronger. His face drew nearer, and before she could comprehend what was happening, his lips crashed against hers, leaving her in a state of shock.

This was not what she wanted. His lips felt like ice, and the roughness of the kiss stung her own. Summoning her strength, she finally managed to push him away, retreating as her breath came in uneven gasps.

"I’d like to do that again," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. Taeyong stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, her mind racing to process the encounter. Without another thought, she bolted from the building, racing home as if the wind itself were propelling her.

Upon reaching her front door, she kicked off her shoes and neatly set them aside, only to notice another pair already there. Curiosity mingled with confusion as she stepped inside. The moment she caught sight of the figure in the familiar hoodie, her breath caught in her throat.