WRITE ME!

He glanced at the empty glass, then at her. He didn't think she was okay. "Why didn’t you leave?" Sooji was loved by many. "I know you could’ve," he added quickly. "You’ve got the money, the friends, the whole,” he moved his hands in the air vaguely, meaning everything you built without me. "So why stay with him?" the last part reveals how stressed the idea makes him. His jaw tightened. Kyumin’s name burned on his tongue.

"You’re not, like… paying for him, right?" That made more sense to him. Maybe Sooji was doing it as an act of kindness? "Because you shouldn't. He's grown. He threw away his own life. He can take care of himself." He huffed, shaking his head. "I don’t trust him." There, it was out in the open. "He’s always been, I don’t know. Cold. And you." He stopped, then tried again. "You deserve better," he eyed Sooji. Like he was glancing her over and a horrible thought came to mind as his words were said. They were not together... were they?

"I’m not saying I know what's good for you," he rushed, immediately contradicting himself. "i just.. I still worry about you, okay? And seeing you still living with him makes it feel like you’re stuck." The bartender hovered and Yeong barely looked before pointing at her glass. "Can you, yeah. Another one. Whatever she wants." He wanted to be useful to her or maybe pay back a debt he felt he owed.

sooji's face crumples before she can stop it. not dramatically, not all at once, but in small betrayals. a twitch of her mouth. a tightening around her eyes. a glassyness to them if you look close enough. like everything he's saying hits her in waves instead of words, a slow, brutal tide she can't brace against.

there's no coming back from this. she figures that much.. not tonight. not the way she hoped. one stupid conversation and suddenly her new year has a crack running right down the middle. seeing yeong in passing was survivable. awkward, sure -- something she could joke about later. but this? sitting here while he picks apart her life like she didn't already lose enough when he walked away? like she hadn't spent months clawing herself out of the future she'd wrapped entirely around him (because she chose him), only for him to stand there and call her choices weird?

her laugh slips out wrong; thin, defensive.

"does it bother you that much," she asks, voice tilting sharp despite the smile she tries to glue back on, "that i might actually like it there?" her eyes narrow, offense simmering hot and ugly beneath the surface. because if anything here is weird, it's her ex fiance acting like he still gets to have an opinion. like he didn't forfeit that the second he chose someone else.

"or," she hesitates. like the words are bitter in her mouth. like admitting them out loud might make them real. "what? it's so hard to believe anyone could possibly tolerate me or want me around unless i open my wallet?" the last part comes out strained. wet around the edges. she hates that. hates that it sounds like something she's been afraid of for a long time. something she worked very hard to laugh away.

the bartender returns, and shame crawls up her spine fast and unwelcome. sooji's always the silly one. the easy one. she starts conversations with jokes, not… this. now she's sitting here splintering open on the club floor, every ugly feeling laid bare because yeong couldn't stop himself.

she barely registers the bartender looking at her, waiting to see what she wants next. for what yeong's going to pay for.

she should say no.

she doesn’t.

"rainbow shots," she says instead, bright and reckless, like a switch flipping back on. a grin snaps into place, too fast and too sharp. "a few of them."

"Jesus, Soo," it's always been his nickname for her. Habits die hard. his voice comes out soft like lowering his voice might rewind the last five minutes. He scrubs a hand through his hair, glances at the bar like it might provide a manual for ex-fiancé conversations gone nuclear. "That’s not... I didn’t mean it like that." Which is technically true. It's also useless. because he was guilty of hurting her. When she voices her fear out loud as an accusation, Yeong flinches. Had she become too much for him? Was that why he fell out of love with her? The wallet comment is the worst of all.

"That’s not what I think of you," She was so much more, but Kyumin wasn't much. Yeong still didn't know why she insisted on staying with him. "Come on. You know that’s not," He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. Because maybe she doesn’t know. Maybe that's the problem.

Yeong merely stands by when Sooji orders her rainbow shots. He doesn't care. He had plenty of money. When the bartender was gone, he turns back to her, eyes sharp now, something reckless flickering there. Honest in the way people get when they’re tired of pretending they’re fine.

"Kyumin used to be so mean to you," its hard for him to think it's different now. How close have they grown. That's what he keeps thinking about. "I know you could easily live in a better place to. If you really wanted me, us," he hates to allude to Nari but the idea of saying her name, he thinks will make the situation worse. "Wouldn't you want to get as far away as you could? Cut off all ties?" Kyumin included.

"Whiskey," he told the bartender, then added, almost without thinking, "—and a mango soju cocktail. Extra ice." It was her favorite. He didn't look at her when he said it. He didn't ask. He just remembered.

He set his elbows on the bar, hands laced together, eyes on the counter. Don't crowd her. Don't leave. This may be his only chance.

"I know you don't want to hear this," she was already so mad. "And I know it doesn't make anything better." He takes a breath. "But I still care about you. A lot." It was the truth. He thought about Sooji more than he should have or deserved to. He knows he was awful for what he did. But the hearts what it wants.

He glanced at her then, cautious.

"You weren't a detour," he wants to clarify. So she knows he never thought of her as a side quest. "You were my friend before anything else. That part was real. It still can be," His jaw flexed. "I just," he was scared of the rejection he knew was coming. "I loved her more." he admits in total honesty. "I hate that it hurt you the way it did."

the snort that comes out of sooji is nothing but mean. and, if he was going to have the balls to take the invitation of sitting next to her, to stay and continue this terrible hazing then she wasn't going to play nice anymore. she wasn't going to stuff down all the ugly feelings that were rising like bile. he was the one who should have felt bad, not her.

"suddenly you're so concerned about my living arrangements?" the words are laced almost in a sing songy tune. because yeah, she's making fun of him. "thats hilarious! considering you weren't all that concerned when you gave me a week-ish to get out of OUR shared apartment." she should have never picked up all her shit to merge lives with him, or anyone. when the bartender comes back with the drink he ordered her. ( her , go to ) . it acts as a reminder that she shared parts of herself with him and he still remembered. if she could, she'd get dish scrubber and open up his brain just to erase any piece of her that was left.

she takes the drink regardless. because if yeong was going to terrorize her with his presence he could at least act as a wallet. and if he wanted to deal with her attitude in compensation , then that was a him problem. not hers.

"does it matter if i'm still living there?" she raises a brow and finally brings her attention back to yeong in protest. it was hilarious how yeong and kyu seemed to dislike each other yet had been childhood friends. sooji had never understood until yeong had broke off the engagement with her to finally couple up with his first love. but, what did yeong have against kyu now? hadn't yeong taken everything from him too? it makes sooji a little defensive.

He glanced at the empty glass, then at her. He didn't think she was okay. "Why didn’t you leave?" Sooji was loved by many. "I know you could’ve," he added quickly. "You’ve got the money, the friends, the whole,” he moved his hands in the air vaguely, meaning everything you built without me. "So why stay with him?" the last part reveals how stressed the idea makes him. His jaw tightened. Kyumin’s name burned on his tongue.

"You’re not, like… paying for him, right?" That made more sense to him. Maybe Sooji was doing it as an act of kindness? "Because you shouldn't. He's grown. He threw away his own life. He can take care of himself." He huffed, shaking his head. "I don’t trust him." There, it was out in the open. "He’s always been, I don’t know. Cold. And you." He stopped, then tried again. "You deserve better," he eyed Sooji. Like he was glancing her over and a horrible thought came to mind as his words were said. They were not together... were they?

"I’m not saying I know what's good for you," he rushed, immediately contradicting himself. "i just.. I still worry about you, okay? And seeing you still living with him makes it feel like you’re stuck." The bartender hovered and Yeong barely looked before pointing at her glass. "Can you, yeah. Another one. Whatever she wants." He wanted to be useful to her or maybe pay back a debt he felt he owed.

She was still her. Bright and funny. Dangerous in the way that made you think everything was fine when it absolutely wasn’t. Her question was half a joke and half a blade.

'Ruin my night.' He deserved that. He knew he did. That didn’t stop it from stinging anyway. He huffed out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his face before he could stop it. Same old reflex.

"Okay, wow," he hoped she didn't hate him. it was late for that now, shaking his head a little. "Straight for the kill. New year, same aim, huh?" He glanced over his shoulder without thinking,quick, like he was checking for something. Or someone. The look lasted half a second too long to mean nothing.

"She’s not," he knew who she was looking for. Yeong could see it the way her eyes trebled in search. He stopped himself, grimacing. "I'm not here with… anyone. Just Haeju and his bad decisions." But was he not making a terrible one too? "Uh, mostly the bad decisions." He looked back at her then, really looked. Took in the shorter hair. The way she held herself now, like she’d learned how to stand without leaning on anyone. He knew that was because of him. He'd tried so hard to get her to lean on him. It made his stomach knot and it was deserved.

"You look," he started, then laughed softly under his breath. "Yeah. No. That’s not fair. You always look good." Idiot. Stop talking. He didn't. "I didn't come to ruin your night," it was a promise. a little more earnest now, heart climbing straight up into his throat where it always lived. "I swear. I saw you and my brain just," He made a vague, helpless gesture. "Shut off. Which is, um. A recurring issue for me."

He hesitated. Actually hesitated. Like maybe he was learning.

"I just wanted to say hi," it was true. "That's it. I didn't know if I’d ever get another chance to do that without it being… weird." This was weird. He knew that too. But he pushed on anyway, because of course he did. "I miss you," the words slipped out before he could sand them down into something safer. He winced immediately. "Not like.. I mean... I know I don't get to," Too late. Way too late. He exhaled, hands lifting in surrender. No pressure or expectations. That was the plan, but he was bad at plans.

"You don’t have to talk to me," he said quickly. "Or count down with me. Or forgive me. I’m not," He swallowed. " just didn't want to pretend you weren’t standing right there." The bass thumped. He hated they were practically strangers now. Somewhere nearby, people were already chanting numbers that didn’t mean anything yet. His smile softened, not hopeful, not confident, just honest. Annoyingly so.

when yeong clarifies that nari's not with him, sooji feels like she's been caught red-handed. her own bitterness broadcasted to the one person she really didn't want knowing she still cared enough to ask.

her face grows warmer, and she doesn't even try to hide the way her features twist. mortification mixing with disgust in a way that's probably visible from across the room. she can't help but look at him like he just admitted to something truly heinous. her fingers tighten around her glass, condensation slick against her palm.

"ah." a bitter laugh bubbles out of her. she can't help it—the thought hits her like a badly timed skill shot: how would nari feel right now if she was here? does he even think about how nari feels? or is sooji just--what, a fun little detour? a palate cleanser between the main course? her stomach churns. "i get it." except she doesn't. she really, really doesn't.

the last time they'd spoken, it was yeong calling to tell her she didn't have to come to the wedding. like he was doing her some grand favor. you don't have to be there, it's fine, don't worry about it. acting all forgiving, even though he'd been sick enough to send her an invitation in the mail first. like he was being considerate. but she knew. she knew the real reason was that he didn't want her there making it awkward. didn't want to be the bad guy and say it flat out. he didn't want to look at her while he married someone else. didn't want the reminder of how he'd betrayed her.

"so what?" she tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she settles her glass back on the counter with more force than necessary. the sound cuts through the music for just a second. "i'm supposed to be one of your bad decisions tonight? is that it?" she pauses, lets the words settle, then adds with a bitter edge, "or is nari boring you to death already?"

(she doubts that. she doubts it so hard it makes her chest ache.)

"i'm not interested in being your second-best thing to kill time." her voice is steady but there's something light yet venomous underneath. she crosses her arms, nails digging into her biceps. "been there. done that." a dry laugh falls from her lips. "thanks to you, i've got the emotional damage to prove it. like a special little badge of honor!"

because that's what she'd been, wasn't it? second fiddle to nari. and she'd accepted it. willingly. stupidly. because they'd been childhood friends. because sooji was never going to try to get between that. because sooji had trusted him--had been dumb enough to think he loved her the same way she loved him.

and where had that landed her? discarded. tossed aside the second nari became an option. the second yeong got who he'd wanted all along.

the reminder of it, the way it feels like it's playing out all over again, like some sadistic rerun she can't skip, boils something inside her. makes her want to throw something. makes her want to scream.

maybe that's why her friend had mumbled some excuse and disappeared into the crowd minutes ago. sooji can't blame them. anyone with half a brain and an ounce of self preservation would've noped out of this disaster waiting to happen.

but sooji's stubborn. always has been. and she's not about to run away. not from him. she shifts her weight, hip pressing against the bar like she's staking her claim to this spot. to this moment. he doesn't get to run her off.

then he opens his mouth again. the compliment, the i miss you. it hits her in the worst way. like a critical hit she didn't see coming, and sooji struggles. struggles to rationalize, to push down the ugly feelings that try to resurface because of familiarity. because he'd opened up a part of her long ago. a section of her heart she didn't know if she'd ever be able to close again. he'd ruined her in that way. made her soft when she'd spent her whole life trying to be anything but.

a part of her is scared. genuinely scared that she might go the rest of her life with some tiny, stubborn part of herself still loving him. her brows furrow at the thought, and she looks away, jaw working like she's chewing on words she doesn't want to say. she hates it. hates him for making her feel it.

"you know..." she starts, forcing herself to look back at him. she despises how he always looks borderline vulnerable. like he's the one hurting. like he's the victim when he's the one who walked up and disturbed her peace. she's going to be sick. "when we were together, i never realized how cruel you were."

her lips tug upward, but it's not a smile. not really. there's something borderline sad sitting in the corner of her gaze, betrayal of a fairytale she let herself believe peeking through the cracks. she reaches for her drink again, just to have something to do with her hands. "you're fucking brutal."

she shakes her head, anger settling in now, hot and real. the ice in her glass rattling. "you don't get to miss me after what you did. you don't get to stand here and say that shit to me like it means something."

he was messing her up all over again. she was over this, over him, and he was pulling her right back.

"you only ever want what you can't have." the words taste bitter coming out. maybe that was what had enticed him to her in the first place--sooji had never wanted all this relationship bullshit. never wanted to be tied down and yet, "maybe you only miss what you can't have either."

"you crossed the line of 'terrorizing' the second you had the audacity to walk up to me." what the fuck did he want from her? she turns her body slightly away from him, shoulders tight. "but i don't know why you're standing here pretending like any of that matters to you." she scoffs. "you just hate being painted the bad guy."

she should really walk the hell out of here. but she stays. stubborn. why should she leave? why does she have to be the bigger person?

"it's a little too late for that," she adds, turning back to face the bar completely, gripping the edge with both hands. "but if you want to be useful, yeah.. you should buy me the whole damn bar."

"Whiskey," he told the bartender, then added, almost without thinking, "—and a mango soju cocktail. Extra ice." It was her favorite. He didn't look at her when he said it. He didn't ask. He just remembered.

He set his elbows on the bar, hands laced together, eyes on the counter. Don't crowd her. Don't leave. This may be his only chance.

"I know you don't want to hear this," she was already so mad. "And I know it doesn't make anything better." He takes a breath. "But I still care about you. A lot." It was the truth. He thought about Sooji more than he should have or deserved to. He knows he was awful for what he did. But the hearts what it wants.

He glanced at her then, cautious.

"You weren't a detour," he wants to clarify. So she knows he never thought of her as a side quest. "You were my friend before anything else. That part was real. It still can be," His jaw flexed. "I just," he was scared of the rejection he knew was coming. "I loved her more." he admits in total honesty. "I hate that it hurt you the way it did."

WHO: Yeong & Sooji

LOCATION: A club on NYE ! *evil laughter*

New Year’s was loud enough to drown out all the shit that had happened. Well, almost. Yeong was laughing, head tipped back, drink sweating in his hand while Haeju yelled something useless about timing and fate and bro, I swear I’m killing it tonight. The bass rattled his ribs. Confetti stuck to his shoes. Someone nearby was already counting down even though it wasn’t time yet.

He should’ve felt great. Life was perfect for him. Everything was working out. He told himself he was great. New year, clean slate, fresh starts. He believed in that stuff. He always had.

Like a ghost coming to haunt him.. he heard it. Not the music. Not the shouting. Her laugh. It cut straight through everything. Bright, sharp, familiar in a way that made his chest ache before his brain could catch up. His head snapped toward the sound so fast he nearly spilled his drink.

Across the floor, under strobing lights and cheap glitter and people who didn’t know her the way he did, was Sooji. Happy. The word felt wrong. Sat heavy. The last time he’d seen her, happiness hadn’t been anywhere near her face. There had been tears instead. Anger. That hollowed out look like someone had turned the lights off behind her eyes and left her standing there anyway.

But this Sooji was laughing loud and unapologetic, shoulders loose, eyes bright. Shorter hair. Sharper smile. Yeong forgot to breathe.

Haeju kept talking. Something about wingman duties. Something about how this year was going to be different. Yeong didn’t hear any of it. All he could see was her, framed by neon and movement, like the universe had decided to play a cruel joke and put the one person he wasn’t ready to see right in front of him.

She looks good, he thought, immediately followed by, Of course she does. She always did. That's not the type of crap he should be thinking. What's wrong with him?

His heart did that thing it always did, jumped first, asked questions never. He'd always worn it right on his sleeve. Too obvious and open. Way too easy to read. It was probably why he was feeling hurt when he knew he didn't have the right. He didn’t think about consequences. Didn't think about timing or boundaries or the fact that approaching her was a terrible idea wrapped in worse ones. His body was already moving, feet carrying him across the floor like gravity had decided for him.

Idiot.

People blurred past. The music dipped and surged. The closer he got, the clearer she became, confident posture, easy grin, surrounded by familiar faces from her world. Influencers. Players. People who fit into her life now.

I don't anymore, the thought whispered, uninvited.

He stopped beside her before he could chicken out. Before logic could tap him on the shoulder and say, don't. Her name slipped out of his mouth like it had been waiting there all night.

for the first time in a long time, sooji feels… okay.

not fine. not healed. not spiritually reborn or whatever. just okay in that dangerous, fun way that comes from loud music, cheap drinks, and friends who only know her now, not then. the bass rattles her bones. neon smears the room into color and motion. she laughs with her whole body, smile pulled so far her cheeks hurt. head thrown back with her stomach aching for reasons that finally don't sting.

no ring. no future planned in someone else's handwriting. just her: glittered, alive, finally not bracing for impact.

she thinks, briefly, stupidly: maybe 2026 really is my year.

but the universe, being a sadistic little shit, says her name.

She was still her. Bright and funny. Dangerous in the way that made you think everything was fine when it absolutely wasn’t. Her question was half a joke and half a blade.

'Ruin my night.' He deserved that. He knew he did. That didn’t stop it from stinging anyway. He huffed out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his face before he could stop it. Same old reflex.

"Okay, wow," he hoped she didn't hate him. it was late for that now, shaking his head a little. "Straight for the kill. New year, same aim, huh?" He glanced over his shoulder without thinking,quick, like he was checking for something. Or someone. The look lasted half a second too long to mean nothing.

"She’s not," he knew who she was looking for. Yeong could see it the way her eyes trebled in search. He stopped himself, grimacing. "I'm not here with… anyone. Just Haeju and his bad decisions." But was he not making a terrible one too? "Uh, mostly the bad decisions." He looked back at her then, really looked. Took in the shorter hair. The way she held herself now, like she’d learned how to stand without leaning on anyone. He knew that was because of him. He'd tried so hard to get her to lean on him. It made his stomach knot and it was deserved.

"You look," he started, then laughed softly under his breath. "Yeah. No. That’s not fair. You always look good." Idiot. Stop talking. He didn't. "I didn't come to ruin your night," it was a promise. a little more earnest now, heart climbing straight up into his throat where it always lived. "I swear. I saw you and my brain just," He made a vague, helpless gesture. "Shut off. Which is, um. A recurring issue for me."

He hesitated. Actually hesitated. Like maybe he was learning.

"I just wanted to say hi," it was true. "That's it. I didn't know if I’d ever get another chance to do that without it being… weird." This was weird. He knew that too. But he pushed on anyway, because of course he did. "I miss you," the words slipped out before he could sand them down into something safer. He winced immediately. "Not like.. I mean... I know I don't get to," Too late. Way too late. He exhaled, hands lifting in surrender. No pressure or expectations. That was the plan, but he was bad at plans.

"You don’t have to talk to me," he said quickly. "Or count down with me. Or forgive me. I’m not," He swallowed. " just didn't want to pretend you weren’t standing right there." The bass thumped. He hated they were practically strangers now. Somewhere nearby, people were already chanting numbers that didn’t mean anything yet. His smile softened, not hopeful, not confident, just honest. Annoyingly so.

He bumped Jojo’s shoulder back, not hard, just enough to say 'fuck you' for his comment on his looks. "Yeah... Still roomies." His and Sooji's arrangement had gone on longer than anticipated. He could already see the face JoJo was going to give him. The two had become friends? or something close, after the humiliation the century.

"what's your new years resolution?" his smile stretches ear to ear. and jojo knows it won't make him forgiven, yet it humors him nonetheless as he leans into his friend. a laugh quick to follow , even after he takes the shove he's earned with a light heart. deserved. he knows it.

"mine, was to quite smoking," he pulls out the box from his pocket and rattles it like a maraca to an unknown song neither of them can hear. however, he stops his antics when kyu answers him. oh yeah... back to the subject. "ahh..." his face is scandalized. partially because, he assumes something is going on between the two, but secondly because jojo couldn't imagine being in the other's position. perhaps thats why he says.., "so, does that mean this is like… permanent?" because rooming together for a month or two was one thing. but going into the new year still living together…

Jojo's question stayed longer than Kyumin liked. Permanent. The word sat wrong. Too neat and intentional. He shrugged instead, hands mirroring Jojo and now in his own pockets. He walked. They'd find a bar downtown soon enough. "I don’t know. Didn’t exactly plan it. Just… happened." Which wasn’t an answer, and he knew it.

jojo was already half a cigarette in when he spotted kyu through the crows, smoke curling lazy from his lips as he waved him over with his free hand. new year's eve and the city felt like it was buzzing with the kind of energy that made people do stupid things--fireworks in the distance, someone's speaker blasting too loud down the block, the whole world pretending like midnight meant something. new year, new me, amirite?

He bumped Jojo’s shoulder back, not hard, just enough to say 'fuck you' for his comment on his looks. "Yeah... Still roomies." His and Sooji's arrangement had gone on longer than anticipated. He could already see the face JoJo was going to give him. The two had become friends? or something close, after the humiliation the century.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ❝ 𝐎𝐇   𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇..,   𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄   𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘   𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐎𝐅   𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄   𝐆𝐔𝐘𝐒   ❞   she   echoed   back,   dropping   onto   the   opposite   end   of   the   couch   without   much   thought.   her   head   tipped   against   the   cushion,   her   short   hair   fanning   out   across   the   fabric   in   a   messy   halo.   and   amusement   found   itself   in   her   gaze   as   she   looked   over   at   him,   lips   quirking.   ❝   why   else   would   someone   think   i   was   hitting   on   them   unless   they   believed   buying   me   food   automatically   meant   i   owed   them   something?   ❞   her   brow   arched   upward   in   a   challenge,   her   grin   turned   teasing.   ❝   interest   by   transaction.   scandalous.   ❞

“Okay, first of all.. don’t twist my words. I never said that food equals a date. I only said to be careful how you say it, because people might get the wrong idea. There’s a difference.” Knowing Sooji, that wasn't going to change her mind. Not that he needed to. She was messing with him, letting a playful glint in her voice. He couldn’t resist adding with a smirk, “Though, if it were a date, you’d get way more than just jajangmyeon.”

She was like a pesky cat; always circling, amused, and daring the world to catch up. He turned his head, matching her playful tilt. “And second, you're dramatic. You hate feelings that much? I’d say it’s cathartic.” He understood. Ever since that night at the bar, he felt he saw her differently. He knew things now that exposed her in a different light. “Sometimes it’s better to feel something than pretend it doesn’t exist.”

"One of those guys?" What was that supposed to mean? "Are you going to elaborate?" He pushed off the door frame to follow her into the living room. His eyes followed her, humored.

“Jajangmyeon it is.” His phone was already in his hand, thumb brushing over the delivery app. He took a seat on the couch, making himself comfortable. She'd come out of her room, and he understood that as a silent agreement to join him.

One thing Kyumin was getting used to while living with Sooji was her theatrics. He couldn't remember if she had always been this way when she was Mincheol's girlfriend. Then fiancé. He huffed a laugh at her sarcasm. His head tipped just enough against the doorframe to angle a look at her.

“Careful how you phrase stuff like that,” he warned, his own smile morphing. “Someone might get the wrong idea and think you’re hitting on them.” The teasing sat warm in his chest. Sooji was carefree and immature, he wouldn't be surprised if people she came across did confuse her personality for signals.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐖𝐀𝐒   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓   𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐉𝐈   𝐇𝐀𝐃   𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓.   the   one   thing   that   felt   like   hers   after   everything   else   had   gone   up   in   flames.   and,   it   was   the   low   hum   of   her   headset,   the   rush   of   chat   flooding   by,   the   noise   she   could   drown   herself   in   until   the   room   didn’t   feel   so   damn   empty.   so   when   a   knock   came   at   her   door   after   she   ended   stream,   she   half   thought   it   was   her   mind   playing   tricks   on   her.   but   reality   always   had   a   way   of   creeping   back   in---and   this   time,   it   was   kyumin’s   voice   bleeding   through   the   hallway.   she   didn’t   even   have   to   open   the   door   to   sense   it---the   heaviness.   because   of   course   she   understood.   heartbreak   came   in   waves.

for   that,   she   breached   the   distance   between   her   and   the   entrance   to   her   room   in   an   instant.  leaning   against   the   frame   opposite   him,   arms   crossed   as   she   cracked   the   door   just   enough   to   see   him.   and   the   sight   of   him   was   somehow   worse   than   she’d   imagined.   ❝   you   really   want   the   answer   to   that   question?   ❞   her   brow   arched   playful at   his   casual     you   eaten ?   funny,   how   that   question   had   irked   her   when   they’d   first   become   roommates.   now,   it   didn’t   sting   so   much.   he   already   knew   the   answer   anyway.   so   she   shifted   the   subject,   voice   lighter,   careful.   ❝   what   are   you   planning   on   watching?   ❞   her   head   still   tipped   against   the   frame,   features   softening   just   enough   to   show   she   wasn’t   really   pushing   him   away.

Kyumin stayed leaning his shoulder against the opposite side of the door frame. Was she actually serious about coming with him? Or was she just humoring him? Didn't matter. It didn't stop his mouth bending into a tiny smile. “So we’re ordering in,” he said finally, the decision already made for both of them. She hadn't eaten, clearly. He wondered if she'd get any better at taking care of herself once this all passed, or if this was the norm for her. “What do you want?”

Kyumin shifts the anchor chart paper in his hands, adjusting the edge just slightly, trying to focus on that instead of Jeremy’s question. He fights the urge to grumble about being told what to do and having to revisit all the misfortune he’d rather forget. Instead, he gives a limited, tight smile. “We’re... managing.” That’s putting it lightly. “It’s complicated, you know?” Boy, what an understatement.

He glances up, catching Jeremy’s look, feeling that familiar mix of wanting to please but not ready to open the floodgates. “Got... uh, invited to the wedding,” he admits, voice low and rough around the edges. “Feels...” Bad. “Weird? But yeah.” He hopes that’s enough to end the conversation. “We’re surviving.”