STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER NINE: OF PANIC BUTTONS, CLOSET RESCUES, AND THE BOY WHO

"Then get mad," he shrugged. "It suits you."

I hated how that line hit.

And worse—I hated how, just for a second, the silence between us felt like it meant something.

The only sound was the faint hum of the light above. And his scent-clean, with hints of cologne and fabric softener-felt too present in this tiny space.

Even my heartbeat was obnoxiously loud. Irritating.

"Move," I said.

"Tight space."

"KD."

He didn't flinch. "Say 'please.'"

I stared at him, blank. "Say goodbye to your kneecaps."

"Fair enough."

He finally stepped aside. Our shoulders brushed-barely-but something sparked in the dark.

I walked out with my head high, even though my pulse was screaming "this-is-not-normal."

Behind me, I heard him casually shout:

"You're welcome again, by the way!"

I didn't reply. But I hated how I almost smiled.

***

Later, I stepped outside-and boom. KD. On the terrace. Again. Apparently, the concept of personal space doesn't exist in his dictionary.

"You really love popping up wherever I am," I said, slowly sitting next to him on the bench.

The breeze was cool on my skin. The sky was too clear, like it dared me to feel something.

"You always say that," he replied without even glancing at me, "but you still sit next to me."

Fair point. I didn't argue.

We sat in silence. Not the awkward kind-the kind that just... was. The wind brushed past, carrying the faint scent of rain that hadn't come. The stars blinked above, like they knew something we didn't.

"The boys won't stop asking me to the ball," I whispered as I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail.

"Sounds exhausting," he replied softly.

"It is."

I leaned back and looked at the moon. It was stupidly perfect tonight. Like even the sky was in a dramatic mood.

"One guy made me a Spotify playlist-every song title had my name in it."

He laughed quietly. The kind of laugh you feel more than hear.

Like I was the joke. And somehow, he wasn't mad about it.

"Creative. Creepy. Equal parts."

"Mostly creepy." My lips twitched. Just a little.

Silence again.

Then he said it. Like it was nothing. Like he wasn't about to shift the entire gravity of the moment.

"Mark your calendar."

"For what?"

He didn't look at me when he answered.

"June 26."

I turned to him, one brow raised. "Are you seriously asking me to the ball?"

Finally, he looked me in the eyes. Calm. Steady.

"Not really asking."

My heart did that annoying stutter-then-race thing.

I scoffed. Instinct. Defense. "Confident, aren't you?"

"Not confidence. Just... timing."

I didn't ask what that meant. We both looked forward again. Still quiet. But not awkward. Not anymore. Quiet like something had been said-without being said. I hated that I didn't want to leave.

My voice had already lost its edge. "You're annoying," I said anyway.

"You've mentioned."

"Flirt somewhere else, KD."

He leaned back, arms crossed. "I'm not flirting."

"Then stop looking at me like that."

He didn't reply. Didn't blink. But I felt it-the shift in the wind when he looked at me again.

And still... I stayed.

Because somehow, under this stretch of moonlight and sky, with no audience, no rumors, no noise—he didn't feel like the boy everyone wanted. He felt like the one who saw through me.

And that scared me more than I'll ever admit. He stayed. No permission asked. None needed.

Khaizer Dylan Dela Vega's POV

I didn't know why I pulled her earlier. Reflex, maybe. Or instinct. Or some twisted mix of both.All I knew was: the moment I saw those two seniors chasing her like she was some limited-edition crush, my body moved before my brain could.

And now, here I was-on the terrace, staring at the skyline I've memorized a thousand times, but somehow, tonight, it felt like it had a different color.

Then she showed up. Of course she did.

She always says I appear wherever she is, but honestly... she's the one who keeps showing up in my world-uninvited, but impossible to ignore.

She sat beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was no big deal. Even the rhythm of my heartbeat—shifted. Just a little.

We were quiet.

I like the way she falls silent when the world gets too loud. I like the way she leans back like she's trying not to care—but you just know she feels everything.

I heard her mutter about the boys again. The ones trying to flirt. The ones who don't know how to take no for an answer.It was funny, but it pissed me off too. Because while all of them kept trying, I was just the quiet one-watching.

Or maybe... I wasn't just watching anymore.

"Mark your calendar," I said. Just like that. No warning.

"For what?" And when she asked why, I told her the date.

"June 26."

"Are you seriously asking me to the ball?"

She looked at me like I was insane.
Maybe I was. Maybe I still am.

But for the first time in a long time, I didn't back down.

"Not really asking," I told her.

I saw it. That tiny stutter in her heartbeat. The way she tried to hide it behind sarcasm. That's her defense mechanism.

I didn't push. She didn't ask for more.

We just sat there. Still. Quiet. Almost peaceful.

"You're annoying," she muttered.

I smiled inside. Because if that's what she's calling this feeling—then I don't mind being annoying.

And when she told me to stop looking at her like that-I didn't know exactly what she meant.

But I knew how I was looking at her. Like she wasn't just some girl caught in rumors. Like she wasn't just Tita Dana's daughter, or the new transfer student, or the mystery everyone wanted to solve.

I looked at her like I saw past all of that.

Because I did. And I think... she knew.

Even if she didn't say it. Even if I still couldn't.