STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER TWENTY: OF EXAM BLUES, CALM RIDES, AND THE PRESIDENT

I raised a brow, crossing my arms, still sassy.

"Obviously," I shot back, cool and dry, tilting my head.

Without another word, he pushed off the wall, took my tote bag from my shoulder—like it was the most natural thing in the world—then gestured subtly with a slight tilt of his head toward the parking lot.

No explanations. No unnecessary words. KD being KD.

I glanced at my squad. They were basically dying from secondhand kilig, jaws hanging open, eyes wide, whispering like maniacs as they watched us walk away.

I could practically hear them gasping in the background. I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn't wipe the amused grin off my face as I walked beside him.

I muttered just loud enough for him to hear, a smug grin playing on my lips.

"KD, you're too much. You're not just the President—you're also my personal assistant now?"

He gave me a brief glance, utterly unfazed, walking calmly beside me—his voice steady but with that rare, faint amused glint only I could catch.

"Consider it part of my duties," he replied coolly.

I snorted, tossing him a playful glare.

"Oh? Which part of the student council constitution says 'carry Riyee's tote bag' is part of your duties?"

He didn't even flinch.

"Article 4. Section 7. Special provisions for stubborn girls who act tough but secretly enjoy it," he replied smoothly, eyes steady on the path ahead—but I caught the subtle upward twitch of his lips.

I nearly choked on my own laugh.

"Wow. You've got some nerve," I muttered—though there wasn't any real bite to it.

"I'm just stating the truth," he replied, still in that infuriatingly calm, presidential tone—smooth, composed, like he wasn't casually reading me like a book.

I scoffed but couldn't stop the grin from breaking through. KD. Always annoying. Always composed. But somehow, only around me. Soft. Subtle. And annoyingly hard to shake off.

The moment we reached his car—of course it's sleek, black, and too clean, just like him—he unlocked it without a word. He opened the passenger door for me, calm and effortless, like it was second nature.

I gave him a look as I slid inside, smirking.

"Wow. Personal driver and President? Multitasking king."

He shut the door, walked over to the driver's seat, and got in—completely unfazed by my sass. The engine purred to life, and then came his voice—still calm, still smooth, still KD.

"I'm just making sure you get home alive. You look wiped from exams—I wouldn't put it past you to go feral in the middle of the road."

I scoffed loudly, crossing my legs as I settled into the seat, tossing my hair back with a dramatic roll of my eyes.

"Excuse me? I'm the one who'd go feral? I survived today better than half the campus."

His lips twitched slightly, but his eyes stayed on the road.

"Hmm. If that's your standard for sanity, your expectations are a little low."

I gasped—loud and dramatic on purpose.

"Wow. One nap on the rooftop and suddenly I'm unhinged?"

He let out a soft breath—almost a laugh, but still held back. I could tell he was biting it back.

"No shade. Just an observation," he said, voice dipping lower—steady, but with that faint trace of fondness again. "You're still chaos."

I scoffed, but there was no real heat left.

"Chaos looks good on me, though."

This time, he didn't even argue.

Silence filled the car—but it wasn't awkward.

It was... weirdly comfortable.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, watching the way his hands rested on the wheel—steady, sure, calm. As usual.

And then—out of nowhere—he said, still focused on the road, his voice soft but firm:

"You don't always have to carry everything like that, you know."

I blinked, caught off guard.

"Excuse me?"

Still, he didn't look at me. His eyes remained on the traffic ahead, his tone unwavering but somehow gentler than usual.

"You act like nothing gets to you," he continued, calm but direct. "But it's okay if it does. You don't have to pretend all the time."

I stared at him, completely thrown off.

For a second, I had no comeback. None.

Me—speechless? That's rare.

He finally glanced at me, meeting my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes unreadable but soft around the edges.

"Just saying," he added, quieter this time, almost like a secret he wasn't supposed to let slip.

I quickly looked away, my heart doing that annoying thing again—pounding for absolutely no reason.

"You're unbelievable," I muttered, my voice low—defensive, but with a slight shake around the edges.

"It hasn't even been five minutes and you're already giving me a pep talk."

He hummed—amused, again—but there was something in his expression that stayed serious beneath the calm.

"Part of the service," he said simply, his voice dropping back into that presidential calm. But I caught the faint smile tugging at his lips as he returned his focus to the road.

I shook my head, fighting back the stupid, small smile creeping up my face. KD, with his stupid calm voice, stupid soft glances, and stupid quiet kindness.

Ugh, this is so irritating.

And yet... here I was. Sitting in his passenger seat, letting him drive me home. No protests. No complaints.

And honestly? I didn't hate it.

KD'S POV

She thinks I don't notice the way her guard drops when she's not looking. But I do. Every little sigh. Every sarcastic line masking something heavier underneath. Every eye roll that doesn't quite reach her heart. Every playful jab that's just loud enough to cover the quiet.

I don't say much. I've never been the type to explain myself.

But somehow, with her? I don't have to. She's chaos, yes—but it's the kind of chaos I've already memorized. The sharp edges. The hidden softness. The walls that never really worked on me. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye—quietly smiling to herself as she looked out the window, pretending she wasn't affected. Acting like this was nothing.

Still chaos.

But tonight? I didn't mind driving straight into it.

And honestly? I never did.