He Fell For My Sister From A Class Photo Chapter 07

He Fell For My Sister From A Class Photo Chapter 07

My heart lurched.

I fumbled to close out of the page, but accidentally tapped accept instead.

First, a single question mark popped up from his side.

Then came a flood of messages, one after another, filling the top of my screen without pause.

But I didn’t dare read a single one.

I calmed myself down and blocked that account again.

Then I logged off.

The next morning, I sat in my usual spot-alone in the back row.

Right as the bell rang and the professor stepped onto the podium with her notes, the back door

swung open.

The lecture hall was packed-with so many students in the engineering school, every seat was taken.

The guy who came in glanced around from the doorway, then walked straight over and dropped his bag into the seat next to me.

It was Ethan.

Even without glancing his way, I could feel the cold, heavy tension rolling off him in waves.

He didn’t say a word. He just sat there beside me and didn’t move an inch.

I figured I knew why he was upset.

I didn’t budge either.

I treated him like air and focused on the lecture.

But during the break, when the room buzzed with nojse, Ethan suddenly asked, “…Did your sister contact you last night?”

His voice was as cold as his entire aura.

My hand paused over my calculations.

I turned to look at him.

“No,” I said.

At my answer, his expression didn’t change.

There was no disappointment on his face, nor any flicker of pleasure.

He just leaned back in his chair.

I looked away and accidentally knocked my scratch paper off the desk.

Before I could bend down, Ethan picked it up for me.

I reached to take it and say thanks.

But he didn’t let go.

I instinctively looked up at him.

He was staring down at my scratch paper with unnerving intensity.

Window light fell across the sharp angles of his face.

His brows were drawn tight, lending his features a sharp, unapproachable coldness.

The bell rang again.

I had to snap him out of it.

“My scratch paper…”

Ethan finally came back to himself.

His gaze dragged slowly up from the paper, inch by inch, until it met my eyes.

While he was distracted, I yanked the paper from his grip.

Then I turned away, avoiding his stare.

But his unwavering stare was unsettling, impossible to ignore.

Two minutes after I looked away, I could still feel his eyes locked onto me.

I had to turn back and ask quietly, “… Is something wrong?”

It was my quiet way of pointing out that his staring was rude.

Ethan seemed to snap awake.

He finally tore his eyes away.

His throat bobbed, then he said, “It’s nothing.”

Knowing how clingy he could be, I added on a quiet note, “My sister’s up in the mountains

sketching. You probably can’t reach her because the signal’s bad.”

At my words, Ethan’s jaw tightened.

I caught him lowering his lashes and heard a flat acknowledgment.

I pulled my attention back and ignored him completely for the rest of class.

Ethan stayed quiet the entire second half.

We didn’t exchange another word.