I write a long chapter because maybe I won't be able to publish next part before atleast one week, as my exams are from tomorrow. So please wait for me a bit🙂
I promise I'll post next part on Saturday's night..stay tuned❤️❤️

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They stood there in each other's arms, the world fading away as she felt herself melt into his touch. His warmth enveloped her like a protective shield, and his masculine scent, felt so comforting, made her feel safe something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She clung to him, needing to feel his presence, his strength. Her heart slowed in his embrace, each beat synchronizing with the rhythm of his breath.

Time seemed to stretch, and she didn’t want to let go. But as she realized she had been holding him for what felt like over fifteen minutes, a wave of self-consciousness hit her. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she quickly pulled away, her gaze dropping to the floor.

She nervously played with her fingers, the softness of her pinky cheeks betraying her inner turmoil. She couldn’t explain why her body reacted this way, why her emotions were tangled in such a delicate web of confusion.

Meanwhile, Namjoon stood there, his mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. He had been with other women's, he spent some of his nights with girls but none had ever made him feel this way.

There was something about her, something that gnawed at him, something that made him question everything.

"For God’s sake, Namjoon, get a grip. She's your student. She's pregnant.." He tried to shake the thoughts away, but they persisted, gnawing at the edges of his self-control.

He tried to rationalize it, Maybe it's just been too long he didn't have sex… but the truth was, it wasn’t just that. Something deeper was stirring inside him.

She felt his gaze on her, like a tangible force, and her heart skipped a beat. She quickly grabbed the dirty bowls from the table, desperate to put some space between them.

As she moved toward the sink, her hands trembled slightly. She didn't understand why he was looking at her like that, was it desire, or was it something else?
Did he want something from her just like other men's? But she couldn't bring herself to look at him, not when she felt so exposed, so vulnerable.

Namjoon, still standing there, couldn’t tear his eyes away. He had always kept a distance from her, kept things professional
but now… Now, it was different. There was a pull he couldn’t ignore.

He saw her in a new light, and it scared him. He hadn’t meant to come so close, hadn’t meant to trap her in that moment, but his instincts had betrayed him.

He moved toward her, silently, unable to resist the magnetic draw. She was still engrossed in her task, her back to him, but he couldn’t help it.

His hand, as if acting on its own, reached for her shoulder. When she didn’t respond, he leaned in closer, her proximity like a dangerous temptation.

"Leave it," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he gently spun her around and turned off the tap.

She flinched, her wide eyes filled with panic. She stepped back, hands still covered in suds, trembling visibly. "It’s okay... I'll wash them," she murmured, avoiding his eyes, trying to compose herself.

But he was already too close. Before she could step away, he placed his hands on the sink, caging her in with his arms. He leaned in, his breath warm on her face, and for a split second, everything between them seemed to freeze.

Her eyes widened, her lips parted in a silent plea, and she trembled in his presence.He had no idea what had driven him to do this,to stand so close, to trap her, to lean in with such intensity.

All he could focus on was her, her innocence, her vulnerability and it tore at him. But as he saw the raw fear in her eyes, the panic that bubbled to the surface, his heart dropped.

"P-please, don't touch me......please please" she said, tears welled up in her eyes even her eyes were closed.

"Hey, hey, look at me," he said urgently, pulling away slightly, his hand gently resting on her trembling shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you… Please, look at me."

She shook her head violently, her body was stiff with fear, every muscle rigid as she backed away, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

"Please… don’t… please, I can't do this please..it h-hurts so much.. don't do anything to....to - me please..." she whispered, the words barely audible through her sobs.

The sudden shift in her expression, the terror in her eyes, it was like a punch to his gut. He had crossed a line he never should have, even if his intentions hadn’t been wrong.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. "I'm so sorry… I wasn't thinking of hurting you.."

But her body betrayed her, shaking uncontrollably, as memories of Yeon-Joon flooded her mind, the trauma she had suffered, the torment she had lived through.

Namjoon realized, too late, that her fear wasn't of him, but of every man who had ever hurt her. She was afraid of him because of what had been done to her before, and that broke him.

In a desperate attempt to comfort her, he pulled her into a gentle, protective embrace, his voice soft as he whispered in her ear, "It’s me, Namjoon. You’re safe now. You’re safe… I won’t hurt you. I promise." His hands gently patted her back, trying to ground her, trying to calm her.

But even as she cried in his arms, shaking with the remnants of her terror, he felt powerless. How could he protect her from the demons that haunted her? How could he erase the scars left by another man? The pain of seeing her like this - the brokenness in her eyes - was almost too much for him to bear.

After a while, she finally looked up at Namjoon, and the sight of her tear-streaked, flushed face made his heart ache. Without a word, she pushed him aside and ran toward the room, slamming the door behind her.

He could hear the soft sobs escaping her as she collapsed against the door, burying her face in her knees. Her pain was palpable, and it tore at him.

Namjoon stood frozen on the other side of the door, his chest tight with guilt. He hated himself for making her feel this way, for scaring her. He knew his intentions hadn’t been wrong, but the fear in her eyes had shattered him.

He couldn’t bear the thought of her hurting herself, so he waited his mind racing, his heart pounding with worry.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached for the doorknob. It turned under his hand, the door was not even locked. His breath hitched as he pushed it open and peered inside.

To his relief, she wasn’t hurting herself, but she had curled up on the floor, her small firm body sleeping on the floor. His heart clenched even more at the sight.

Namjoon watched her, unable to tear his eyes away from her delicate face, now relaxed in sleep, but still marked by the traces of her pain.

He gently tucked her into bed, pulling the covers up around her shoulders, as if trying to shield her from the world. His expression was unreadable, but inside, rage burned, his thoughts a chaotic storm.

Sitting on a couch beside the bed, he watched her sleep, the quiet rise and fall of her chest the only reassurance that she was okay for now.

His heart ached, a deep, gnawing ache that wouldn’t go away. He sat by her side, unable to tear himself away, his thoughts consumed with one questions.

"Who had done this to her? Who had taken the light from her eyes, the warmth from her heart?" His hands balled into fists, the anger burning inside him. He wanted to protect her, wanted to give her everything she deserved.

As he watched over her, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his feelings for her, feelings that had only grown stronger as he saw her pain. She doesn’t deserve this… he thought, his gaze softening as he brushed a stray hair from her forehead. She deserves happiness. She deserves love…

She looked so fragile, her features softened by the stillness of sleep, yet there was a deep sadness etched into her skin that he couldn't ignore. The sight of her, so vulnerable, tore at him.

How many times had he watched people suffer, how many times had he been the one to pick up the pieces of others’ brokenness?

But this... this felt different. With her, it wasn’t just about helping; it was about wanting to protect her at all costs. He wanted to shield her from the world, to take away the pain she carried in her eyes.

His fists were clenched, fighting the surge of anger that bubbled inside him. He wanted to track down every person who had ever hurt her, who had made her feel like she wasn’t worth protecting.

He wanted to make them feel the same fear, the same helplessness that he saw in her eyes whenever she flinched, whenever she recoiled from him as though he, too, could be the source of her pain.

But he had seen her strength, the way she tried to stand tall, the way she had decided to keep this baby. Despite the fact that everything seemed to be against her, she was tormented but she chose to carry this child, to give life in the face of everything she had suffered.

She’s stronger than she knows, he thought, his chest tightening with admiration. She deserves so much - happiness, love, peace. And it made him wonder how he could ever give that to her.

He wanted to be the one to fill the emptiness in her life, to be the person who made her feel safe, who made her feel whole again. But he also knew that wasn’t something that could be done overnight, not with the kind of pain she had endured.

He had to wonder "Did she see him as just a protector? Or could he be something more to her, something that went beyond the role of a teacher, beyond the boundaries of what he should feel for her?"

For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine a different life for her, one where she could laugh without fear, one where her eyes weren’t haunted by the memories of her past.

He wanted to be the one who brought the light back into her life, who reminded her that she could still dream, still hope.

But he also knew that pushing her, forcing her into anything, would only set her back further. The last thing she needed was to feel pressured. He couldn’t be that person, not yet.

For now, Watching her sleep, her chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm, he made a silent promise to her, one that no one else could ever hear. "I will protect you" he vowed to himself. "No matter what it takes, no matter how long it takes, I will protect you"

Namjoon didn’t know why he stayed up the entire night, not once closing his eyes. He sat on the couch, his back stiff, his body aching from the hours of stillness, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His gaze never wavered from her.

He had promised her safety, and in his own way, he intended to keep that promise. He didn’t care if it meant sacrificing his own rest; she needed him now, more than anything.

As the first light of morning filtered through the window, the soft glow touching her face, Namjoon remained fixed in his place. The room was quiet, save for the faint sounds of the world outside. Time seemed to stand still, and with each minute that passed, the weight in his chest grew heavier.

He knew the night hadn’t been easy for her, her mind was still grappling with the trauma she had lived through. But he had hoped that being here, just being near her, would give her some semblance of peace.

When she finally stirred, her eyelids fluttering open.The warmth of the blankets beneath her made her want to sink back into them, to let the exhaustion take over again.

For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was or what had happened. But as her gaze slowly shifted around the room, she saw Namjoon.

He was sitting on the couch, his eyes fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, a quiet intensity that seemed to weigh down the air between them.

For a brief, fleeting moment, she felt a sense of safety in his presence, even after everything that had happened. But that comfort was quickly overshadowed by a deep, gnawing sense of guilt that twisted in her stomach.

She sat up slowly, the blanket falling from her shoulders. Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, and she looked down at her fingers, unable to meet his gaze. The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable.

Why had she overreacted? she wondered. Why had she assumed the worst when he was only trying to help? She had been terrified, yes, but that fear had clouded her judgment, made her think things that weren’t true. Namjoon had only ever shown her kindness, yet she had pushed him away as if he were just another monster from her past.

"I... I’m sorry," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. She didn’t know how else to apologize, how else to express the regret that weighed so heavily on her.

Her fingers twisted the fabric of the blanket, a physical manifestation of the guilt twisting in her chest. "I—I overreacted last night. I… I shouldn’t have been so scared of you. You weren’t going to hurt me. I… I know that."

She had seen the confusion and hurt flash in his eyes when she had pulled away from him, when she had begged him to leave her alone. "I shouldn’t have been that way" she thought, guilt crawling under her skin. He didn’t deserve that.

Namjoon remained silent, still watching her, his eyes softer now, though the tension in his jaw was still present. His mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, but his heart ached at the sight of her, sitting there, so vulnerable, so full of regret for something that wasn’t her fault.

The truth was, he didn’t blame her. He couldn’t.He stood up slowly, his body stiff from the hours of sitting, but there was no trace of anger or frustration in his movements.

He wasn’t upset with her; if anything, he was disappointed in himself. "I should have been more careful" he thought. "I should have recognized the fear in her sooner."

He took a few steps toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. When he was close enough, he crouched down in front of her, so that they were eye to eye, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, though, it was understanding, gentle. He could see the raw vulnerability in her eyes, the quiet self-blame that she carried with her, and it hurt him more than he could explain.

"You don’t have to apologize," he finally said, his voice low and steady. "You’re not the one who should be sorry. I—" He paused, as if weighing his words carefully. "I should have been more aware. I shouldn’t have gotten so close. I didn’t mean to scare you."

She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest, a mixture of relief and confusion settling in her chest. She had expected him to be angry, maybe disappointed in her for how she had acted. But his words were calm, understanding.

There was no judgment, only the quiet reassurance that she hadn’t done anything wrong. It was a kindness she hadn’t known she needed until that moment.

"I… I’m sorry for pulling away" she whispered, the words coming out slowly, as if she were unsure of them. "I didn’t know how to react. It’s just... everything... the memories… they came rushing back. I didn’t know what to do, or who to trust."

Namjoon nodded, understanding completely. He had seen the fear in her eyes, the way her body had stiffened the moment he leaned in too close.

"You don’t have to explain," he said gently, his voice carrying an unspoken promise. "You don’t owe me any explanation, okay? I’m just here.... And I’ll be here, whenever you need me."

There was a long pause before she finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe the words he was saying.

He’s not like them, she thought, her heart beginning to soften, the walls she had built around herself crumbling just a little bit. He really does care.

Her voice trembled slightly, but she spoke again. "Thank you... for being here. For... not leaving."

Namjoon gave her a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but there was a tenderness there that couldn’t be faked. "I won’t leave," he said firmly, his gaze steady, unwavering. "Not now. Not ever."

And in that moment, with her sitting there, vulnerable and unsure, and him kneeling in front of her, a sense of quiet understanding passed between them.

They weren’t fixed, not by any means, but they had taken the first step towards healing, towards something better. Something real.

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