"Stop smiling like that," Rena snapped, pressing her arms to her chest as if they could somehow contain the burning chaos inside her. "People are staring."
Jin glanced lazily around. "Let them. Maybe they're wondering what it's like to fall in love with a walking wildfire."
She blinked. "I'm not—!"
"You are," he interrupted, his tone suddenly softer. "You just don't want to admit how warm it feels."
Rena's lips parted, but no words came out. For a breathless moment, she didn't know whether to slap him or kiss him. Her mind spun like a whirlwind — fury and confusion, longing and denial, all crashing together in a storm behind her golden eyes.
Was he… serious?
Of course not. He was always joking. Always teasing. Always hiding behind that maddening smirk and those gleaming crimson eyes.
But then again…
There were moments — flashes — when he looked at her like she was the only person who existed. And that look, just for a second, felt so achingly real that it made her forget to breathe.
She turned her head away, embarrassed by the sudden stillness in her chest.
"Let's just go," she muttered.
"Where to, my queen of flames?"
"The library," she gritted out. "And don't say anything stupid."
"Ah, you wound me again," he said dramatically. "But a library date it is. I always wanted to study… biology… with you."
"I swear, Jin—"
"Reproduction chapter," he added with a wink.
Rina stopped and shot him a glare so sharp it could've drawn blood. "You're not funny."
"I disagree," he said, offering her a hand. "I think I'm hilarious. And you're blushing again."
She slapped his hand away and marched off toward the library, her fiery hair swinging behind her like a banner of war. Jien followed her, still smirking, slipping both hands into his coat pockets as if this were all some casual stroll through the park — not a deliberate chase of a girl who, whether she liked it or not, had begun to haunt him in ways he hadn't expected.
The crowd thinned as they entered the quieter halls. The academy's marble corridors gave way to the oak-scented hush of the library — warm, heavy with dust and whispers. Rina made her way between the towering bookshelves, trying to ignore the awareness prickling at the back of her neck.
He was still watching her.
Even when she wasn't looking.
Especially when she wasn't.
Finally, in the deepest corner of the library, surrounded by volumes on mana theory and magical biology, she turned to face him.
"You're impossible," she said again, though this time her voice had lost some of its sharpness.
He tilted his head. "And yet you brought me here."
"You followed me."
"You didn't stop me."
Her lips twitched. Damn him.
"Jin…" she began, and the sound of his name felt heavy on her tongue.
He stepped closer. Not too close. Just enough for the air between them to shift.
"You're really angry," he said gently. "Because of what I said earlier?"
She looked away. "You're always saying things you shouldn't. In front of people. You embarrass me."
He paused, watching her carefully. Then, after a moment, his voice dropped to a more honest tone.
"I only ever say those things to you, Rina."
Her eyes flicked back to his, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness.
"I don't care about what anyone else hears or thinks," he went on. "They're not the ones who held me last night. They're not the ones whose tears I felt on my skin. Just you."
The heat in her cheeks returned — not from anger this time, but from something far more dangerous.
Tenderness.
"You're still an idiot," she said quietly.
"I am," he agreed.
A long silence.
Then he leaned in again, just slightly, lips curving with familiar teasing mischief.
"By the way… I still haven't gotten an answer."
She blinked. "About what?"
"The color. Pink lace… or was it red?"
Her fist collided with his shoulder before he could finish the sentence.
Hard.
"Idiot!" she hissed, but she was smiling — just a little. And her heart? Her heart was a traitor. It beat for him, loud and fast and uncontrollably.
Jin rubbed his shoulder and grinned. "Ah, there it is. The signature Rena Amberheart love tap."
He caught her gaze again, this time holding it longer.
And for a moment, neither of them said anything.
Because for all the teasing, all the sarcasm, and all the maddening games — something in the air between them had shifted.
Not quite love.
Not quite war.
But something dangerously close to both.