didi 🍮

The door still doesn’t budge.

Not after Hyunjin tries again — shoulder first this time, bracing himself against the warped wood with a quiet grunt of effort. Not after you wedge the crowbar into the seam and strain until your arms shake.

Nothing.

You step back, chest tight, staring at the door like it might change its mind if you look at it long enough.

Hyunjin exhales and drags a hand through his hair. “Okay. So. That’s… not ideal.”

You don’t answer.

He waits a beat, then tries the latch again anyway, slower this time, like patience might do what force couldn’t. When it fails again, he leans his forehead briefly against the door before pushing off and turning back toward the room.

“We’ll give it some time,” he says. “Storm’ll die down. Someone’ll notice.”

You cross your arms, nod once. Still don’t speak.

The shed settles into an uneasy quiet — rain tapping against the roof, wind dragging along the walls. The lantern sways faintly overhead, shadows stretching and shrinking with each movement.

Hyunjin busies himself. Not pacing exactly — just doing. Rearranging a box. Checking a shelf. Moving things that don’t need moving.

It grates on you more than the silence ever could.

“Can you quit that?” You mumble, a bit peeved with the constant noise. You just wanted to fall asleep and wake up when someone found you. 

“What? I’m bored,” he shrugs, organizing a pile of matchboxes like a Jenga tower.

You don’t respond other than pushing out an exasperated breath. You adjust the jacket Hyunjin had suggested you grab earlier on the floor—your temporary bed—and shut your eyes forcibly, trying to will yourself to sleep

Minutes pass.

Hyunjin shrugs out of his jacket and folds it loosely in his hands. He thinks for a second, before sliding down the wall nearest to you, his arms outstretched onto his knees that are folded to his chest. “Someone’s cold,” he says, a little playfully. Like this was some funny mild inconvenience that you would look back on and laugh at in the near and distant future.

You shoot him a look. “You’re not funny.”

“Debatable,” he replies. “I think I’m hilarious.”

“That’s the problem.” You let out, your tone inconceivably disappointed with his perception of reality. 

He laughs under his breath, unfazed. “Relax. Someone’ll notice we’re gone. Worst case, we get an exciting story out of this.”

You scoff. “You’re acting like this is a joke.”

“I’m acting like panicking won’t help,” he says, still easygoing. “Big difference.”

“You always do this,” you mutter, wrapping the jacket tighter around yourself. Of course you would get stuck with Hyunjin of all people. Hyunjin who didn’t get upset at uncontrollable matters because he’s above everything. Hyunjin who wasn’t cold and had his big, muscly arms out to piss you off. Hyunjin who—

“Do what?” He leans back against the shelf, crossing his arms. “Survive mild inconvenience?”

“No,” you roll your eyes, dissatisfied with how he plays right into your mental image of him. Completely uunbothered in such a dire situation. Despicable. “You joke. You poke. And then when I get pissed off, you act surprised.”

He raises his brows, ever so slightly entertained with your pessimistic attitude. “I haven’t poked since I told you I would drop it,” he says.

“Oh, you haven’t?” you shoot back, irritated. “’Cus I’m pretty sure you’re doing it right now.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, just a bit amused. “If this is poking,” he says, “you might be a little sensitive.”

That’s it.

“God, you’re insufferable,” you snap. He couldn’t just pretend to be conscious of his words for one night?

“Ouch,” he says, hand over his heart in a truly melodramatic fashion, “And here I was thinking we were bonding over shared trauma.”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” you accuse, not bothering to hide your sneer in the slightest. Even if he wasn’t deserving of your wrath today (which he is), you needed to let it out somehow. Almost a week of being stuck dealing with his mental olympics and incoherent signals has had you bottling up a storm for days.

He shrugs, unaware of just how far your irritation goes. “I am taking it seriously. I just don’t see the point in making it miserable.”

“It’s already miserable, I’m stuck here with you,” you say. You almost want to laugh with Hyunjin at your words because of how childish they seem, but you can’t help it. Hyunjin was the last person you were trying to be stuck in a confined space with for an unpredictable amount of time at the moment.

“Oh come on, you can’t still be trying to act like you hate me. We’re completely alone, you can drop the act,” he jokes a little, but you don’t seem to be laughing. Instead, you turn to him in your jacket-cocoon, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

“Act?” you ask. Perhaps he had gained the smallest inkling of your kindness within the time you’ve been around him since the rally, but you were not feigning the aversion you felt simmering in your stomach for the guy. “Listen, Hwang, I don’t hate you… but we aren’t best friends anymore. Stop pretending like we are,” you say, not trying to hide the displeasure in your tone.

“Why?” he asks. It must be nice to be so oblivious.

You sit up straighter, your head tilted toward him in confusion. “What? What do you mean why? Why what?” you ask.

“Why aren’t we best friends anymore?” he asks like it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, what could he say to explain why you would be? Had you been misreading signals all along, not realizing his blatant avoidance when he’d first returned and his constant pestering that followed soon after were actually forms of affection?

You don’t care to be so eloquent in your answer. “…Because you’re an ass and I can’t stand you most of the time?”

“Oh, how dare I do something other than bow at your feet eighty percent of the time like Jisung and Felix,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender and rolling his eyes. He lets out a sigh as if he’s the one the universe is punishing.

“See? You’re an ass,” you spit, almost pleased with how he seemed to prove you right with one short sentence. 

Hyunjin doesn’t stop there this time. Instead, he seems to almost boil over. “You know?” he begins, his tone a bit downcast compared to moments ago, “I thought we were moving past this part of our relationship. It seemed like maybe you were starting to open up and realize that people can change and still be your friend, but clearly I was wrong.”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You blink in confusion, your eyebrows scrunched in annoyance.

“You only ever see your side to things,” he scoffs. How dare he? “I realized I was an ass after the first month, and I tried to ease us back into something more playful because I missed you, but all you seem to care about is making me feel like shit for fucking up a little.”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally my fault for not forgiving your apology… oh wait, I never fucking got one,” you grimace, tone doused in venom. This guy truly cannot be real. 

“I didn’t realize I needed to send a formal letter and wait for your signature for you to get over it already,” he tosses back, as if he can’t believe the way you’re acting. 

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” you snap, head whipping to him so you can focus your glare at him better.

“Yeah,” he shoots back, as if he was holding that one in for the right moment, “and you’re a coward.”

“A coward? The fuck?” you flare up at that, teeth gritted in displeasure and shock. 

“You’re too scared to just relax and admit that I don’t suck the way you want me to,” he presses into the matter further, standing (or well, sitting) strong with his point. “I’m not some villain or monster or something. I’m sorry I’m not some pushover wannabe anymore, but I’m not all bad either. Like now, I was trying to be friendly, not step on your toes or anything. And what? You chew me out anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you want a medal for being tolerable for ten fucking minutes?” you scoff, marveled at how he can be so expectant after doing so little. Does going abroad really turn people so entitled?

“See?” he throws his hand up, as if to enhance his words. “I can’t do the right thing in your eyes. I’m quiet? You’re mad. I’m playful? You’re mad. Oh, and God forbid I speak my mind, that one always seems to get you going.”

“Because you act like this!” you fume, shoulders gesturing towards him in place of your hands that are tucked into your sides for warmth. “God don’t you see it? You’re so fucking arrogant and out of touch it’s insane to think that I used to be so close to someone like you. How were we ever friends?”

“You know, you like to say I’m a jerk, but you’ve hurt my feelings a lot too. I’m tired of pretending you haven’t. I might not be perfect, but neither are you. I’m not dealing with this anymore just ‘cus I…” he takes a breath, shaking his head. “I’m not dealing with this.”

With an anger-sarcasm cross, you laugh dryly. “Oh, so now we can finally shut up? Thank goodness.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, he just shoots you a look that feels like looking into a mirror. It’s filled with hurt, disappointment, and aversion—the same way you’d been looking at him since he had returned… and suddenly you understood why, even if only a little bit. It made you want to say something else, but the bigger part of yourself didn’t want to relent. So you don’t, opting to pull your eyes away from him and sinking back into your jacket-blanket. 

His words replay in your head. 

‘you’ve hurt my feelings a lot too’

You didn’t know if this was a new angle to attempt to piss you off further or what, but you just can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it's because it was completely absurd for him to say…

Or maybe it was because he sounded like he meant it.

——

Despite all your efforts, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off Hyunjin. Maybe it's because you’re so pissed with him that you want to burn holes into the sides of his head with your eyes, but more likely it's because his words had caught you off guard. You knew you had been standoffish after he got back, more irritable and always trying to keep him at a distance but…

Had you really hurt his feelings?

It just didn’t seem fathomable—the guy who had left as a teddy bear returning as a buzzed piercing mannequin who couldn’t seem to care less about yours—or anyone who matter’s—opinion, was hurt by your attitude towards him? 

But he had given somewhat of a good point. 

Hyunjin hadn’t remained the same since he returned. Sure—he pushed your buttons, couldn’t help but act macho a few times a day, and kept experimenting with his style (among other things)—but he had also started to be a bit more open and kind at times. You can’t act like the moments where your old best friend peaked through didn’t happen. 

But there were also those moments that reminded you all too well that he was in fact not the same guy he used to be. Like all the times he’d mocked Jisung—your old friend would have never done that. 

You can’t help but think back to some other things he’d said either…

What did he mean when he’d said that the two of you had never just been friends? Well—you knew what he meant—but why did he have to bring it up? It seemed like there was something more he wanted to say with that statement regarding your current relationship. 

You think back to how he’d said how ‘nobody’s that nice’ when referring to Jisung, but himself too. Was he trying to imply that Jisung liked you? Indirectly confess that he had once too? It was like everything he said only confused you more. 

His actions didn’t work much differently, either.

Like how he looked at you when he helped catch you on the hike up the mountain. For the quickest second, it was like you two were freshman again at the homecoming festival, fireworks in the sky and in your eyes as your gazes drifted to each other’s. 

You’re still deep in thought when you hear the wind thump against the walls of the shed. It breaks you out of your thoughts just enough for you to notice Hyunjin’s head falling off the shelf he was carefully balancing it on in his sleep. He had fallen asleep shortly after he had decided not to talk to you anymore, or at least it seemed like it. Perhaps he was just laying against the wall with his eyes closed—there’s no way anyone manages to keep such a perfect expression in their sleep. 

His head slides off again, and he huffs, before turning a bit more to one side of his body and trying to balance himself that way instead. When you notice him shuffling in discomfort, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Was he really not going to just ask for something to rest his head on out of pettiness?

You just can’t understand the guy.

When you watch him attempt to tuck his hands between the hard, splintered wood and his head, you finally give in. “Hey.”

You see him stiffen slightly, but he doesn’t move to acknowledge you or say anything. Oh so we’re ignoring each other now? Real nice Hwang. 

Sighing, you get up, jacket wrapped tightly around your figure as you waddle over to him. “Hey, Hwang.” When he doesn’t answer again, you lean down and turn him to face you by his shoulder. With that, his eyes open smoothly, and you know for sure he was awake the first time you’d called him. What an ass…

Silently, he gives you a look that reads ‘what do you want’ and you suddenly feel a bit less inclined to help him. The only thing that keeps you committed to being generously kind to the guy is the fact that you already got up and walked over to him so you might as well finish what you started. “Do you want something for your head?”

He stares at you for a few moments longer, and you’re about to give up when he finally mutters out a reluctant, “Yeah.”

Yeah I know you do. 

Trying not to seem smug, you just nod, and reach for the top shelf where you’d seen the packaged fire blankets that looked like they’d made decent pillows for the time being. You drop it into his lap. “Don’t open that. The blankets have fiberglass.”

He doesn’t say anything, just tucks the blanket behind his head and crosses his arms around himself. You take a breath. Somehow this was almost as bad as him messing with you. No, it was as bad. It was as bad because it… it makes you feel bad. You don’t like the way his silence and his last words might have some weight to them—at least it feels like it might. You still don’t want to give in to his antics, but maybe Hyunjin isn’t all wrong.

You were not enjoying being the bigger person.

Sliding down next to him, you don’t ignore his eye that slips open to glance at you in confusion. You just give him a little shrug. “It’s cold, we’ll be warmer next to each other.” You can’t deny the disappointment in your chest when he just closes his eye once more. “So now I’m getting the silent treatment?”

You hear Hyunjin sigh deeply, but he doesn’t give you any more response other than that. He couldn’t just throw you a bone once and just let up? It really dampens your mood, and you feel just about all the determination leave your body as you lean away from Hyunjin. “Fine, whatever. If this is what you wanna do then fine.”

You aren’t really trying to bait him, but it seems you’ve succeeded in doing so, since Hyunjin can’t help but speak up finally. “First you want me to shut up, now you want me to talk. I just can’t get anything right with you, can I?”

“You can get something right and just be honest with me. Stop acting like you’re someone you’re not—like a jerk and a—”

You don’t get to finish the sentence. Hyunjin doesn’t let you since he’s heard you say it too many times within the last semester. And he’s absolutely sick of it. “And there you go again. Why can’t you accept that I am being honest? This is me—I am who I am, and you can’t keep holding me to an image that has been drawn on and graffitied and collaged over and over and over. You know, the old you would have heard me out at least once, given my new attitude a real chance, and maybe tried to understand more than just your own perspective—”

This time you interject, sick of his rant of excuses and blame. “Okay then! Make me understand! Make me understand how this ‘new you’ came to be!” 

Hyunjin stutters at that. His face darkens—not in a sinister way, but a pained one. A small part of you says to take back your statement, but the larger one wants to pry a little more. Hyunjin hadn’t talked much about his trip since he got back. Just that it was eye opening and he’d recommend it to anyone. Clearly he had learned to make friends, since he had a new group to hang out with when he returned, but had it all really been so wonderful? Why did all his stories start a few months into the year, but never when he got there?

“I don’t think you’ll understand,” he says lower, like he feels stupid saying it, and suddenly he looks a lot smaller. A lot more frail like the boy you’d once known to lean his head on your shoulder and ramble about all his woes, then switch places and listen wistfully as you did the same. 

Why oh why did he have to once be someone you cared for so deeply? 

“Try me. Since we’re being so open, you might as well let me know why I’ve been dealing with my friend from hell for the last few months.” You push forward, and though your words kind of bite, the tone you use is more akin to one of genuine concern. He seems to notice, since he scoots to sit up a little higher, his knees curling up a bit but not quite to his chest.

Hyunjin gulps, licking his lips nervously like he’s not sure if he wants to go through with this. His eyes dart to you twice, and his voice crawls out of his throat like it doesn’t really want to be heard. “When I got there… it wasn’t… It wasn't great. I thought, since I’d be at school like everyone else there it would be easy and nobody would care about who I was or what I was doing like it had always been but…”

Hyunjin recalled his first week abroad. Walking through the halls, scouting out his classrooms for when the semester would begin, not a care in the world. He’d been so wrong. “I got there and it was like I was a field rat, surrounded by owls at night. People were hunting me…” he bit his lip, shrinking into himself a bit more. “They waited until I was alone, and then they’d show me how alone I really was. I didn’t have anybody there who knew me, or cared to know me, to help me out. All I had was myself, a stupid cardigan, and a black eye.”

Your heart sinks at his words. If they were so bad to him, why did he stay?

“But I couldn’t come back, not broken like that. I had chosen to leave, even though everyone told me not to and they had all warned me about everything. I didn’t want to feel like more of a doormat than I already did…” he takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want anyone to see me like that… I didn’t want you to see me like that… so I fixed myself. I started working out, fighting back, standing up for myself. And for the first time in my life I felt strong, I felt brave, and I felt free.”

Out of everything he could have said, you never thought that this is what had taken your childhood friend and first love away from you and brought him back a rebellious and semi-performative nonconformist. You couldn’t imagine Hyunjin getting his ass whooped—but then again, there had always been someone there for him. Whether it was Felix or Chan or Changbin, even yourself, someone always had his back. Out overseas, he had to hold his own, and you couldn’t imagine how hard that could’ve been for him. 

But what you understood less was how he’d… grown from that. What you were sure was some silly reinvention was turning to actually be a form of protecting himself. More than that, he seemed to like the way he’d changed. 

“I know when I got back I was, well  I was rough to deal with. I got so used to keeping people off my back I didn’t realize I could stop until it was too late and I had to start trying to get you to hop on the Hyunjin train.”

“Yeah well, I kind of left the station when every time I tried to get your attention it felt like a pity party or humiliation ritual.” You murmured, still trying to process everything he’d just dropped on you. 

“I’m really sorry about that. I just—I was scared I’d crumble, and I didn’t realize it was safe for me to do that until a little while ago. But,” he takes a moment, “that doesn’t mean all of me is an act. I’m not a jerk, like I keep trying to tell you. But I’m not that bend-over-backwards boy I was either. I like that I’m not scared to express myself or that I don’t care if people like me.”

You let out a quick chuckle, as if to say I’ll say. 

“But I do care that you like me.” 

You stiffen up slightly, as if he was a large animal that would only see you if you moved. You were glad to know what the reasoning was for his one-eighty, but you weren’t ready to just move on from your… conflicted feelings for him. Hyunjin made—makes—you uneasy. He’s predictable and unpredictable at the same time, and you don’t know how to deal with it in a way that won’t drive you crazy in all the wrong ways. 

“Hyunjin…”

“Been a minute since you’ve said my name, it was starting to actually hurt my feelings a bit, y’know?” He murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile in his voice, and at least you accomplished your original goal of this conversation.

“Even if that’s all true—”

“It is.” he reassures.

“Okay, but even then, I can’t just void everything you’ve done since you got back. It’s not just about what you did or acted like—I feel like I haven’t understood half of what you said the past five months.” You say it all too quickly, barely managing not to jumble all your words together with the sheer speed you get it out. 

Hyunjin turns to you, his expression tender and like he wants to give you all the answers in the world. What you don’t know is that he does. “What do you want to understand? Ask me and I’ll tell you.”

“You can’t be serious,” you choke out, caught a bit off guard by his directness. He has to know what you mean, and know that they aren’t things you can just say. 

He nods, eyes trained on you. “I am. Ask away, I’ll answer.”

You swallow thickly, taking a deep breath. What’s the harm? “Well, for starters, you keep saying I’ve changed. I really don’t see where you’re coming from with that,” you bite your tongue on the harshness that was threatening to sneak out of your lips. He said he would be honest, this might as well be what you find out first, right?

Hyunjin chuckles lightly. “Here I thought you would start off… Nevermind. When I say you’ve changed,” he pauses, like he’s looking for the right words to say what he means, “I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re not as easy going as you were, and you take more caution with people—or maybe that’s just me—and sometimes you sound kind of harsh, but none of that is really a bad thing. You’re just different, but everyone is. People aren’t stationary, they change and I think that’s a really great thing about us. The only issue there really is…”

Hyunjin flicks his eyes down, like he’s a little scared of your reaction, before he pushes through anyway. “You don’t seem to want to acknowledge it, and that’s a scary thing. If you can’t accept that we’re all a little different, that we’ve all grown and will continue to, then we’ll never be able to measure up to the people we are in your head.”

You understand a bit why he wasn’t sure about saying that last bit, but you also kind of see where he was coming from. You can’t say you’ve been the most fond of Hyunjin’s new attitude but it would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy some of his more recent behaviors. You didn’t hate the banter the way you wanted to. Or the hair dye and piercings. Or the unapologetic attitude he sported now. You were just having a hard time accepting that it was Hyunjin. Had he been a new addition to your life—like Yeji or Yeonjun—you might have been able to adjust better and see him for more of who he was than the persona he had morphed into in your mind. 

“Did that clear things up for you?” He checks, his head tilted towards you, his eyes searching yours like he truly wants to know. 

You give a hesitant nod, folding your lips inward as you consider your next question. “Why do you dislike Jisung so much?”

It was really weighing heavy on your mind considering that the Hyunjin you had known would have adored Jisung. The two of them were similar in many ways: talented, theatrical, and playful. Yet for some reason, he could not stand the sight of the guy. 

Hyunjin sighs, like he’s disappointed, but at himself if anything. His eyes can’t manage to meet yours, staying drawn to his knees in front of him. “He’s too soft, too awkward… he’s too open…” You see a bit of sadness well up in his eyes, his fingers picking at each other while he builds up the confidence to continue. “He’s a complete pushover and nobody’s ever going to take him seriously that way.”

“What are you talking about?” You wonder aloud in puzzlement, feeling a bit of offense on Jisung’s behalf. “I take him seriously.”

“Do you, [Y/N], do you really?” He looks at you earnestly, like he needs to know. “If Jisung were to ask you out, would you take him seriously? Would you see him as a man and say yes?”

“I—” You sputter, heat rising to your face, “I don’t know what that has to do with why you don’t like him.”

Hyunjin nods, his eyes closing as if he expected you to react that way. “You wouldn’t. Nobody will as long as he stays that way.”

“Not that I agree with you, but why does that make you hate him?” You frown, still not seeing the point.

“I just… I can’t stand seeing him walk around like that, like he can stay that way forever. His naivety just—it rubs me the wrong way.” His shoulders slouched around him like a cage. “Is that all?”

“Why can’t he just be nice?” You add, your frown deepening. “You keep talking about him like everything he is—like he’s only negative qualities. Even when he’s nice—you can’t just leave it at that. For some reason, nobody can be that nice. Why is that Hyunjin?”

“It’s not that he isn’t nice… he is. But there’s more to it [Y/N],” his mouth curls with displeasure. “The way he’s nice to you… it’s not because you’re his friend. I can see it with how he looks at you. Jisung has feelings for you.”

“He doesn’t,” you refute.

“He does.”

“What do you know?” you draw out that last bit, rolling your eyes as you ignore the way his are burning a hole into your head. 

“Are we going to stay on this or do you have anything else for me to clear up?” He sounds like all he wants to do is move on from the topic of Jisung, and you oblige.

“Before the bus got us… what did you mean,” you pause, that same flush from earlier rising to your cheeks, “y’know, when you said we’ve never really just been friends. What was that about?”

Now it's Hyunjin’s turn to blush. 

He looks away almost immediately, jaw tightening like he’s weighing whether this is worth it. For a second you think he’s going to dodge the question entirely. Then he exhales. “It means I liked you.” 

Just like that. 

You blink. “Liked me how?” 

His eyes flick back to yours, quick and unsure. “Not platonically.” The word hangs there, awkward and heavy. 

You let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “That’s—” You stop yourself. “That’s not fair.” 

“How?” he sounds almost shocked at your words. 

“You can’t just drop that like it explains everything,” you say with wide eyes that dart around the room, like you can’t quite choose where it would be best to look until you ffinaally settle on him.“We were kids. Everyone’s intense about everything. Everyone thinks any feeling is aa crush.”

“I know the difference between a crush and whatever that was,” he says, a little firmer now in his words. “I knew it then. I just didn’t say anything.” 

“And why’s that?” You egg him on for more, unable to stop yourself before it's too late. Well, might as well know now. 

“I…” he chokes on air, like he can’t get what he wants to say out of his throat. “I didn’t think you’d go out with me like that.”

You’re quiet for a beat too long.

Hyunjin notices, and whatever he was about to say stalls out.

“I mean—” he corrects himself quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn't know. I just… thought maybe. Sometimes… you might’ve liked me too but I couldn’t be sure unless one of us said something.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, bringing your own knees to mirror his pose. “That’s different.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It is.”

He glances at you again, reluctant almost. “There were moments where it felt like… you cared more than you were letting on. And then there were moments where I was sure I was imagining it.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your jacket.

“So I told myself it was nothing,” he continues. “Or that it didn’t matter. Or that I was reading into things because I wanted it to be true.”

You swallow. “And now?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Now I just know it wasn’t nothing. That’s all.”

The quiet that follows isn’t sharp like before. It’s fragile. Careful.

You shift where you’re sitting, your shoulder brushing his for half a second before you pull back again. “You’re making this weird.”

He lets out a small, breathy laugh. “Yeah. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“You could stop,” you point out. You almost pull a laugh from him with the expression you deliver the offer with.

“I could,” he agrees, “I just don’t really want to pretend anymore.”

Your chest tightens at that.

“But,” he adds quickly, like he’s backtracking before you can retreat, “I’m not asking you to explain yourself. Or tell me anything you don’t want to.”

You keep your eyes on the floor. “Good, because I wasn’t planning to.”

Hyunjin nods pliantly. 

Another pause of awkward silence follows after.

His voice comes out quieter this time. “I just wanted you to know… whatever you think you hid back then? It mattered to me. Even if I never understood it.”

You hum tentatively, still not sure about how to feel about all this. You choose to try and loosen up the tension instead. “I just have one more thing to ask.”

“The floor is yours.”

“If they save us before we freeze to death,” you chuckle out awkwardly, “could you just… Could you give Jisung a chance? I think you two could be good friends if you allowed it.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, a small smile dancing at his lips. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give Jisung a chance… if you agree to give me one.”

You stare at him like he’s grown three heads, and he quickly clarifies. 

“I want a real chance for you to get to know me now. I’m sorry I’m not the same guy that you knew before, but I promise,” he pauses, mustering the best soft smirk he can, “I’m not so bad now either.”

You stare at him for a long second. 

Then you sigh, rubbing your face with both hands like you’re tired of arguing with the universe. “…Fine,” you say. “I’ll give you a chance.” 

Hyunjin stills. Not dramatically. Not obviously. Just enough that you notice. “Direct agreement,” he says carefully. “No loopholes?” 

“Nope,” you confirm. “We’ll stop this weird tension between us.” 

A beat. 

Then his shoulders drop, and his lips spread into a grin. “Thank you.” 

The moment hangs there—fragile, unfinished—before the shed shudders violently. You jolt as a gust of wind slams into the wall, rain suddenly hammering the roof hard enough that it drowns out everything else. The lantern you had lit while Hyunjin was feigning a nap swings wide, throwing shadows that stretch and snap across the walls. 

“That’s—” you start. 

“Worse,” Hyunjin finishes. 

Thunder cracks overhead, close enough that you feel it in your chest. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself, teeth clicking before you can stop them. 

Hyunjin notices immediately. “Hey,” he says attentively, already shifting. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you insist without missing a beat. 

“You don’t really look like it,” he counters. 

Another boom of thunder. This one rattles the shelves… And your resolve.

You hesitate—pride warring with common sense—before scooting closer. Not all the way. Just enough that your shoulders touch. “Don’t fuck up our truce by saying anything snarky. I’m just cold.”

Hyunjin adjusts without comment, fighting a smile as he angles his body so his back blocks some of the draft. He shrugs his jacket off of one arm and overlaps it with your own, trying to create a pocket of heat. 

The wind howls again, loud and angry, and instinct takes over. Your hand grips the front of your jacket. The shed creaks ominously. 

“This thing isn’t going to collapse, right?” he panics a bit aloud, face cringing with a twinge of worry,

You don’t really offer much reassurance, still feeling a bit half-empty on the whole situation. “Probably not.” 

“Probably?” 

“Okay, maybe don’t focus on that word.” You give him a sheepish look as you remember who you’re dealing with. Drama queen… well, sometimes. 

Another crack of thunder, directly overhead this time. You flinch hard, forehead knocking lightly into his chin. His hand comes up without hesitation, palm settling against your back. 

“You’re okay,” he says quietly. Oh so now he’s calm again. What an enigma.

Minutes pass like that—storm raging, lantern swaying, your breathing slowly syncing with his. Then— 

Muffled voices?

“…Hello?” Someone calls. 

Hyunjin straightens immediately. 

“Hey! We’re in here!” You yell back, pulling out of his grip a bit.

The door rattles as something heavy strikes it. Wood splinters. The door bursts inward, rain and cold air rushing in. 

“Jesus, are you two okay?” Chan lets out a breath of relief at the sight of your faces.

Flashlights sweep the shed. You’re half-curled into Hyunjin’s side, his arm still around you. His jacket is wrapped around both of you as best as it could manage. It’s not exactly compromising, but it’s incredulously close for the two of you. 

Hyunjin doesn’t let go right away. 

You, however, only hesitate for a second.

Jisung stands just behind Chan, soaked through. His light lands on the two of you. His expression is one you haven’t quite seen before. Something in his eyes seems a bit familiar, yet all too foreign at the same time. 

“Hey,” Jisung begins with that gentle tone that makes Hyunjin want to roll his eyes (he refrains, barely), “You okay?” 

You nod, unable to muster up just how happy you are to see him and Chan. “Yeah. We’re fine.” 

Hyunjin clears his throat, finally getting to his feet himself, not quite meeting anyone but Chan’s eyes. He shoots him a look that says he isn’t in the mood to talk about it just yet, Chan understands immediately.

“Good,” Jisung hums contently, offering you a small smile. “I was worried.” 

As you’re ushered out into the rain, Hyunjin falls into step beside you, close but not touching. Jisung’s arm steadies you on the trek to the cabin, 

yet something about it just doesn’t feel as secure as Hyunjin’s palm had.

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