#overflow

…and he's here again.

You tapped your fingers frantically, creating almost invisible marks on your notebook. I see him more than my brother. You complained. Or maybe not? Because your feet automatically moved and you found yourself slowly tiptoeing out of your room. The living room was dark, only the blue light from the tv screen was reflecting on the walls, and you noticed the shadows dancing.

His shadow particularly.

Look at that perfect nose ugh. You facepalmed mentally at your own inner monologue. You're so gone y/n.

“man stop acting creepy and join us if you want” you jumped realising Niki caught you in act. Mumbling a “whatever…” under your breath you turned back, ready to go inside until heeseung's voice halted your movement. “My throat is so dry…”

A warmth pooled in your stomach, you knew what that meant. It's tea time omg.

You almost tripped but made your way inside the kitchen successfully. It took 17 minutes to prepare the tea, the one heeseung complimented when he tasted first. It was just a simple “wow…that tastes…interestingly good” but to you it was more than enough.

Oops. Talking about more than enough you still couldn't get the proportions right. It's been half and a year since you started making this tea and every time you end up with five cups extra instead of just two. Almost like your feelings for him. It wasn't supposed to be this down bad. You two practically grew up together, so when you realised heeseung ruffling your hair, asking about your friends, or even looking at you made you feel weak in your knees, you were doomed.

Today wasn't any different.

You poured it in the pastel green dinosaur mug which was actually a gift for you from your brother but it didn't matter, everyone knew that was heeseung's mug. You may or may not have disgustingly tried drinking from the cup right after he drank but come on curiosity gave the cat butterflies after all.

“Where's heeseung?”

You asked, noticing his absence. “Gone” Niki groaned “his throat was feeling dry or something…i don't know”

“That's literally a shit excuse to make out with his girlfriend,” Jake huffed. What? What girlfriend? Well, it's not like you weren't ready for this but not like this. Jay, your brother patted the empty space next to him where heeseung was just sitting

“Y/n you wanna joi—”

“You guys are stupid as shit”

And you stomped your way back towards the kitchen.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Shut up Niki she gonna get your ass”

“He's such a pain in ass…could've told he was horny or stuff…who tf makes excuses about dry throat that is so ridiculously stupid…I hope he choke while making out or something…”

Your movements were clumsy as you began to clean up the kitchen. It hurts. Damn.

It's not like this was heeseung's first relationship. He had three more prior to this. And you've met all of them. You held the edge of the sink and sighed. They were genuinely so beautiful. Tall, slim, long hair which reached their waist almost, big eyes, prominent nose and academically good. He had a type, and you were not in there. Your hair was brown, the texture was rough, and since you had problems managing them, you used to chop them right away once they made past your shoulder. You were average, in everything else, studies, looks, extracurricular activity. Good. But not good enough to make Heeseung notice you. And last, the most unfortunate thing was you being Jay's sister and younger than him. Heeseung doesn't date younger girls. He always had women either his age or older than him as girlfriend.

Your head hurts. Wow. Talk about overthinking.

“what are you thinking shortcake”

You stiffened. Done making out with your gorgeous girlfriend? You wanted to scream but god had another tortuous plan as you felt Heeseung's warmth behind you, announcing his sneaky presence.

“You're balding, oh my god stop thinking so hard,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair. The redness crept on your cheeks as you subtly leaned in his touch. Why does he have to see me as a kid…and that stupid nickname…I want to smash his face.

“Are you drinking that?”

Your thoughts were interrupted when he pointed at the medium-sized kettle filled with tea. You nodded your head already embarrassed as heeseung threw his head back while laughing “shortcake there will be 70% tea in your body, why do you always get the measurements wrong”

You cursed yourself. “I am going to throw this awa—”

“No way” he deadpanned. “I see my share in that”

He said with a stupid boyish smile that left you flustered for the nth time.

How come you noticed the overwhelming amount of tea every time and not my feelings heeseung…

Heeseung had always been someone who moved fast, not in the reckless way, but in that quiet, restless sort of way that made people think he had somewhere better to be.

And maybe he did. Maybe he always believed there was something brighter just beyond the next door, just past the next deadline. That there was no shame in wanting more. He was always chasing the spark, the adventure. He liked the taste of testing his limits. So when you heard his decision to pursue Aerospace engineering from SNU you weren't surprised.

There was a little ache in your heart, but his dreams were bigger than your stupid little puppy crush. You sure were frustrated and pulled your hair, maybe wet your pillow case for weeks, realising Heeseung really was going to be skies apart, and there would be no one to notice your wrong measurements.

It's not like he interacted with you everyday but the growing distance was too loud to ignore.

Heeseung did not mean to pull away, but between college applications, late-night study sessions, and emotionally closing off post-breakup with his girlfriend, you start to feel like an afterthought.

“You didn’t even tell me you got accepted.”

Tea sessions were long forgotten as days became busier, with your upcoming finals and little to no interaction with your brother's best friend you felt hopeless.

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s been… hectic.” eyes on his phone.

So was loving you in silence, but I never missed a moment.

You noticed his smile as he typed something, the excitement did not go unnoticed. You always did. That was the smile he had every time he started talking with someone new. And suddenly you felt stupid, insecure, weird. A what the fuck am I doing hormone grew in your stomach.

“Oh okay, best of luck”

Late afternoon, the living room is quiet but heavy with the hum of departure. Suitcases by the door. Jay was outside helping Heeseung’s dad load the car. It's the last ten minutes before he leaves for the airport.

The kettle whistled once before you turned it off.

You moved like muscle memory—two scoops of the blend he liked, water just off the boil, and the pastel green dinosaur mug he once stole from your possessions years ago and never remembered again. The smell of chamomile and cinnamon drifted through the kitchen, familiar and faintly cruel.

You heard the door open but did not look up.

Heeseung stood there, quiet. No teasing, no loud entrance, no "Shortcake." Just the soft creak of sneakers on tile and the weight of your silence.

“You’re not coming to the airport?” he asked.

You poured the tea steadily, not spilling a drop. “you are going to forget me anyway”

He winced, though he tried to hide it. “That’s not true.”

You finally turned to him. Your eyes weren’t angry. Just… tired. Dimmer than he remembered them being when he first noticed how big and round they were.

You held out the mug. “Here.”

He hesitated, like taking it meant accepting something heavier. “You still made it?”

“I always did,” you said, voice low. “Even when you forgot to ask.”He took it from your fingers gently, like the mug might shatter. And suddenly he had the realization, maybe it wasn’t the ceramic he was afraid of breaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a pause. “Things got… overwhelming.”

You offered a smile, thin and polite, the kind people wear at train stations, pretending their chests aren’t caving in.

“I get it,” you replied. “You were busy with everything, I am still immature anyway”

“You were never immature,” he said quietly. “Not to me.” You felt heavy. The burning sensation in your eyes grew stronger.

But before you could respond, Jay’s voice called from outside “Heeseung! We gotta go!”

He looked toward the door, then back at you, like maybe time would pause if he stared long enough. It didn’t.

He reached for the handle, then paused.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back”

You nodded. “I figured.”

He took a breath. “But when I think of home…”

He looked down at the mug.

“…this is what I’ll taste.”

You didn’t reply. Couldn’t. The words were caught somewhere between your throat and your heart, tangled in too many summers of watching him leave rooms before you could say the things that mattered.

He stepped outside.

The door clicked shut.

And in the kitchen, with the kettle still warm and your hands now empty, you whispered to the silence

Why didn’t you ever stay long enough to notice I was always waiting?

It had been nearly two years. And between seasons somewhere you grew up without warning.

The small town hadn’t changed. Same cracked sidewalks. Same loud cicadas buzzing through the July air. It just feels less colorful. Of course, what else did you expect after deciding to stay back in your hometown and study business despite your family constantly nagging you to go outside the small town and explore more.

You were scared, more than meeting new people, building a complete different life, isolation, new places, you were scared of your heart betraying your brain. You'd never admit it but the constant thoughts of Heeseung which you of course tried to ignore came back nearly taking your breath and sometimes the scenery of you bumping on him randomly in the streets of Seoul as unrealistic as it sounds scared the shit out of you.

Heeseung did not return home for almost 2 years, and amidst your boring university life, you forced yourself out of your shell. There was no way he was gonna magically appear one day and say he missed you.

Until it happened.

Same porchlight flickering above the front door that had seen him leave far too many times.

But Heeseung? He had changed.

Or maybe, for the first time, he had finally stopped running long enough to notice what had stayed.

Jay met him at the station with a slap on the back and a lazy grin. “Look at you. Seoul made you ugly.”

Heeseung laughed, the sound dry and automatic. His shoulders ached from the weight of the last semester, from the silence he had left behind.

“Man I just want to crash in your place”

There was a growing ache in his heart.

Jay missed him too much to say the regular ‘yuck go to your own house’ he used to during their last year in high school.

Heeseung wanted a break. These past 2 years had been hectic to him. After turning down 2 summer vacations and locking himself up in his dorm he finally felt the strong sense of homesickness. Tensions in his never ending casual relationships, losing himself in the chaos of the big city, he suddenly lost himself.

“You’re always halfway out the door, Heeseung,” Hana said. Her voice trembled with something between frustration and longing. “Every time I try to reach you, you’re already somewhere else in your head, in your books, chasing some spark that’ll fade before you can even name it.”

He didn’t answer right away. He stared at the skyline, blinking slowly. Planes blinked red in the distance, one after another, cutting through the night like thoughts he couldn’t catch. Hana’s voice sharpened. “You can’t keep romanticizing this need to escape. You make people feel like placeholders.”

That one hit. He winced.

“I’m not asking for fireworks,” she said. “Just show up. Just choose someone. Choose me.” He finally turned to look at her.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he said, voice low. “I’ve never known how.”

“But you’ve been with me for months, Heeseung.”

“I was trying to outrun something.”

Her expression faltered. “What?”

He opened his mouth, but it wasn’t her name on his tongue. It was a memory.

A flicker of sunlight in a dusty kitchen. The smell of chamomile and cinnamon. A girl sitting cross-legged on the porch, holding a mug with dinosaurs on it, laughing softly as the wind tangled in her hair.

y/n.

He felt the ache bloom in his chest, sudden and sharp. God, he missed home. Missed the creaking floorboards. Missed the taste of your tea. Missed the way you looked at him, quiet and constant like the town he always left.

“I think I left something behind,” he whispered.

You huffed. Sometimes, you don't get your professors. Nevermind, it's almost all the time. Pages scattered all across your bed, and some fell from your lap as you stood up, back aching from sitting in the same position for hours.

“God my head hurts…i need rest” you mumbled as you stepped out of your room. The house was usually quiet as everyone was out for work except you, who was stuck inside with projects.

You heard the car outside. Jay is back?? It's too early, though.

With your head full of random thoughts, your hands moved as you prepared yourself for the ultimate dose of caffeine.

You opened the cupboard for your mug but couldn't process yourself as your actions paused again. It's an everyday routine. The half finished tea jar and the stupid dinosaur tea cup sits there collecting dust, almost like it's waiting for someone. Oh you are so doomed. You sighed. You've stopped forcing yourself, somewhere in between you realised accepting your feelings were far easier than gnawing them out even though they hurt you.

You'd gladly let your feelings collect dust rather than throw them away.

The door clicked open, and you yelled out of habit “Jay I'm making coffee. You want some?”

Then you paused. There were footsteps. More than one person. Did he bring friends?

You started preparing for one extra cup but couldn't move yourself as you noticed the similar figure leaning on the kitchen door frame.

“Can I have some too shortcake?”

Did the summer heat finally catch up or its really Lee fucking Heeseung in front of you right now.

You opened your mouth to say something but couldn't realize your throat was dry.

He was just in front of you. So close yet so far. His complexion was a bit pale with faint black circles around his eyes but that failed to hide the charming gaze and his as beautiful as ever smile you fell for.

You winced realising your hand accidentally touched the hot mug.

“Careful” his expression faltered as he walked towards you.

What the fuck. He's real. Why is he back oh my god what, I'm going to kiss his stupid ass so bad—

You covered your mouth. Yep. I've completely lost it.

“Oh? You got the measurements right!” He exclaimed as he helped you to pour the coffee. You were still recovering from the shock. “I—yeah it only happened with the tea…”

The silence after that was more confusing than comfortable. Heeseung was finally looking at you for the first time, properly, no phone in sight long enough and an unfamiliar ache bloomed in your heart.

“You came back?”

“I had too”

The reply was short but the amount of butterflies in your stomach weren't.

You nodded “how long are you planning to stay?”

You facepalmed inside. Why am I interrogating him like a stalker oof. But Heeseung gave a short smile “As long as I find the things i came back for” His voice was firm. There was a certainty that he would find it. He had too.

you opened your mouth for response but couldn't realize how close he was standing. Heeseung seemed to understand your uncomfortableness as he stepped back.

No, don't go please. You missed his warmth too much. God you wanted to hug him and cry so bad but his sudden arrival, him looking at you with the same fondness was genuinely confusing.

Heeseung cleared his throat.

“Your hair… it's longer.” You unconsciously touched your hair. Does it look weird?? He's definitely gonna think I did that to impress him…this is so embarrassing oh my god.

“It suits you”

You swore your heart just knocked at your chest walls.

“How’s Seoul?” you asked flatly.

“Loud. Cold. Fast.”

“And your girlfriend?”

Heeseung paused. His throat tightened.

“Ex.”

You turned slowly “oh….jay missed to deliver this tea”

He laughed bitterly.

“She said I was distant. That I only knew how to leave.”

You didn’t answer. Just looked at him, eyes unreadable. Then your eyes traveled back to the coffee mugs, perfectly filled with the same amount of coffee.

The summer moved differently.

Jay was working full-time, leaving early and returning late. The house became a quiet hum of forgotten routines. And suddenly, Heeseung was in every corner again. On the porch at 4 p.m., sipping watered-down iced tea. In the kitchen, commenting on how the rice tasted different when you made it. Hovering.

But it wasn’t like before.

He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t laughing at your messy hair or calling you Shortcake like it was a punchline.

He listened now. Really listened. And when he asked how your classes were going, he didn’t cut you off midway to scroll through his phone.

Something had changed. And it bothered you so much.

a summer storm had rolled in without warning. Thunder cracked like bones in the sky, loud and vengeful. Rain clattered against the kitchen windows, streaking down in erratic lines, and the trees outside bowed beneath the wind’s howl. The whole house felt suspended in a breath held too long.

Jay had already texted that he was stuck at the office, roads a mess, and wouldn’t be home until the weather cleared.

You moved through the house in silence, barefoot, your steps light as you lit candles one by one along the countertops. Wax pooled slowly. Shadows danced.

The kettle had just started to warm when you heard it, the screen door creaking open, a gust of cold air rushing in with the smell of wet pavement.

Heeseung.

He stood there, dripping wet, shoulders slightly hunched from the rain. He held up his phone as a flashlight, the beam cutting through the dim kitchen.

“You okay?” he asked.

You looked up, startled but not surprised and nodded, hugging your arms over your hoodie.

His lips quivered, but it was soft, tired. “Jay is stuck…I was worried” He stepped in, water puddling beneath his shoes. “Mind if I ?”

You gestured to the stool at the counter.

Both of you sat in flickering silence. The only sound was the storm outside and the low bubbling of water heating up. The candlelight cast soft gold across the angles of your faces, but it couldn’t warm the distance.

“You used to be scared of thunder,” he said after a long moment.

You exhaled a quiet laugh. “You used to hold my hand and tell me the sky was just clearing its throat.”

Heeseung smiled at that. A real one. But his eyes... his eyes looked like they carried too many miles. Too many missed moments.

“I never knew how to stay,” he said, almost to himself.

You looked at him then, fully. Your gaze traveled from the damp fringe clinging to his forehead, to the tired slope of his shoulders. There was a different kind of storm in his eyes. One that didn’t roar, but quietly ached. Something clicked inside you.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I would’ve waited either way.”

About damn time.

He looked at you like you were a map he had ignored for too long. Not out of cruelty, but fear. Like home had always been there, marked in the fine print, but he had been too scared to trace the line.

The kettle hissed behind. But neither of you two moved.

He opened his mouth, lips parting like a question finally formed—

And the lights flickered back on.

Reality returned. The fridge hummed. The room brightened.

And the space between you two grew sharp again.

You stood and turned the stove off, your movements slow, almost careful. Heeseung remained seated, watching you with something fragile flickering across his face.

He didn’t say what he wanted to say.

Not yet.

But the storm wasn’t over. Not really.

It had only moved inside.

Heeseung wasn’t sure when it started.

Maybe it was that winter afternoon three years ago, when he came home after a gruelling basketball match. Everyone else was out, and he had wandered into the kitchen looking for food, expecting the fridge to be empty, only to find a warm bowl of tteokguk waiting for him on the stove. A note stuck to the microwave in the familiar handwriting he always pretended not to recognize.

*"wrong measurement of ingredients led to this, Jay had enough, I know you missed your lunch, eat up-y/n"

That was the first time he stared at his phone with your number glowing on the screen and didn’t call.

He couldn’t.

It didn’t feel fair.

You were Jay’s sister. You were the kid he used to hold upside down by the ankles and tease until you cried. The one who followed him around during middle school summer breaks with her awful glittery notebook and bright, too-loud giggles. The one he protected like a younger sibling.

But somewhere in the last year, that version of you disappeared.

He remembered watching you from the hallway one night when you were tutoring some neighbourhood kid. You had your glasses on, hair in a lazy bun, and was scolding the boy with a mix of fondness and fire. He remembered thinking she’s not a kid anymore.

And he hated it.

He hated that he noticed.

He hated that he cared when you laughed at someone else’s joke. Hated that he remembered your favorite brand of tea. That he checked your posts from an anonymous account.

Heeseung was used to control. In his studies. In his life. In his carefully managed relationships that never quite asked him to stay. But y/n? You weren't manageable. You were messy and warm and stayed in his head long after he left you behind.

That winter, he started pulling away.

Because it was easier to be distant than it was to admit that he no longer saw you as someone he was supposed to protect.

He saw you as someone he was afraid to lose.

And for someone like Heeseung, fear like that was the most dangerous kind.

So he left again. And again. Until he convinced himself it wasn’t real.

Until the summer he came back and realized

You had stopped waiting.

Or maybe that's what he forced himself to think in order to find peace.

And it broke something in him.

It was the kind of quiet, golden afternoon that should’ve been harmless. The rain had dried off. The town breathed a little softer. But the storm in you did not die. What the fuck he meant by that that night? You reached out to him after that, texts, calls, every single attempt was ignored. It was killing you.

Seated on the back porch, knees drawn to your chest, the familiar dinosaur mug tucked between your palms you pondered. The scent of cinnamon drifted up, wrapping around you like a memory you couldn’t let go of.

Your phone buzzed. It was Jay.

“Heeseung’s looking for you. Don’t run.”

what.

You stared at the text for a full minute before locking your phone. You hadn’t seen him since that night the power went out. He disappeared again physically, emotionally, mentally. You should’ve been used to it by now.

You didn't realize you were crying until a drop fell into your tea.

Then the screen door creaked. You stiffened.

He stepped out slowly. “I’m sorry for showing up without warning.”

“Isn’t that what you do best?” you said, not looking at him.

The words stung, but he deserved them.

He eased himself down on the opposite bench. “I just needed to talk.”

“You always need something. Then you disappear.” you finally looked up, and your eyes were red-rimmed, tired, and yet sharp as glass. “So go ahead. Say whatever you need to, and then go chase your spark again.”

He winced. “It’s not like that—”

“Isn’t it?” your voice was brittle. “You leave. You come back. You’re nice. You laugh. You pretend like nothing’s ever different, and the second I start to believe you might actually care—poof. Gone again. You don’t get to do this anymore, Heeseung.” You tried to control yourself but it was too much. Your head hurt so did your heart.

“I know,” he said. “I know I messed up. But I didn’t come here to pretend anymore. I came to be honest. Finally.”

You scoffed. “Honest? About what?”

“You're hurt and I'm the reason” he admitted.

“and why does that even matter?” you cried.

“Because you’re not just anyone!” He stood now, pacing, hands in his hair. “Because you’ve always been more. I just—I couldn’t let myself want you. You’re Jay’s sister. You’re younger. You trusted me. I didn’t want to ruin everything by needing you the way I did.”

Your lips parted. “What are you talking about?”

Heeseung looked at you, chest heaving. “I’ve been in love with you for years. I buried it. I denied it. I covered it up with other people, with school, with cities that weren’t home. But every time I ran, it was your voice in my head. Your tea in my mouth. Your laugh stuck in my chest.”

What the hell. You couldn't tell if it was the overflowing tears or emotions or how frantically stupid you felt right now or the overflowing amount of tea you consumed for years, which made you feel drunk.

Your breath hitched. “You don’t get to say that now.”

“I have to. I can't hold it in anymore. Every time you looked at me and smiled, I wanted to hold you. Every time you poured me a cup of that god-awful tea, I wanted to kiss you. And when I left, it wasn’t because I didn’t feel it. It was because I felt it too much.”

That's it.

You stood up, shaking. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything before? Do you know what that did to me? Watching you date other people? Hearing you talk to your flings while I sat there with a smile plastered on my face like I wasn’t breaking inside?”

Heeseung looked devastated. “I thought I was protecting you.”

“From what?” you walked towards him, eyebrows twitching and eyes searching for answers.

“From me!” he exploded. “From this mess of a person who didn’t know how to stay, who always chose the chase, who was terrified of something real. I thought you deserved better than that.”

You felt the lump in your throat just tightened.

“I didn’t want better,” you said, voice cracking. “I wanted you. I wanted the boy who ruffled my hair. The boy who laughed at my tea. The boy who looked at me like I wasn’t just Jay’s sister. And then you left. Again and again. You left me in the silence you made.”

Tears streamed down your face now. “You made me believe I was unworthy of being chosen.”

Heeseung closed the distance, stopping just in front of you. “You were never unworthy. I was just too much of a coward to believe I deserved you.”

Your fists clenched at her sides. “So why now? Why this Sunday? Why come back now and tell me all this when I’ve finally stopped waiting for you?”

lies.

“Because I couldn’t bear the thought of you thinking you were forgettable. You’re not. You’re unforgettable in every way. I didn’t come back because I wanted to make amends. I came back because I can’t imagine another version of my life where you’re not in it.”

The silence stretched thin in between.

“I don’t trust you,” you said finally. “I don’t trust that you’ll stay.”

“Then let me earn it,” he whispered. “Let me stay this time. No spark chasing. No excuses.”

You looked at him, eyes heavy with doubt and hope all tangled together.

“Say it again.”

He stepped closer. His hand cupped your cheek.

“I love you,” he breathed. “Not in a fleeting way. Not in a ‘what if’ way. In the ‘I’ll ruin my pride just to be near you’ way.”

You didn’t kiss him.

You just leaned your face into his palm. God how much you missed this warmth.

“I love you too, you idiot,” you said, breaking. “And I always did. It broke me to believe I never mattered to you.”

“I’ll spend every day proving you did.” Heeseung whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t pretty.

It was tear-stained and trembling and furious and raw. His lips moved against yours like an apology he couldn’t put into words. You gripped his shirt like you were trying to hold together all the parts he had broken, and you'd fall into a void if he let go. He kissed you back like he’d been starved of you. Because he had been.

And only after breaking apart you realised how ugly both of you were crying.

“You still taste like cinnamon,” he murmured.

“You still taste like heartbreak.” you hugged him, tears staining his shirt now. He couldn't care less.

He laughed, wet and broken. “Then let me heal it.”

Late evening. The living room in Heeseung's house is dim, lit only by the flicker of a muted TV neither of you are watching. It’s been silent for too long. He’s leaving in the morning. Again. You’re curled into him, head on his chest, his hands around your waist, pretending the ache in your throat is from holding back yawns, not tears. He’s beside you, hands rubbing your back gently, jaw clenched like he’s been holding back everything all night.

Then, suddenly softly, so softly you almost miss it

“Shortcake.”

Your chest tightens.

You blink. Slowly. “Don’t.”

He turns, brows drawn. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that.”

His lips part, stunned. “You used to love it.”

“I did,” you admit. “But I got used to it. Started waiting for it, even. Every time the door opened and you walked in with my brother every damn time I’d wait to hear you say it.”

He says nothing.

You look down at your hands, twisting the hem of your sleeve. “It was the only thing that made me feel like maybe… you saw me. Not just as his sister. As me.”

He breathes in sharply. “I did see you.”

You scoff, bitter. “Then why do you always run the moment it gets quiet enough to hear my heart break?”

He shifts toward you, voice low. “Because I was afraid if I didn’t, I’d do something I’m not supposed to.”

“Like what?”

His lips moves, uncertain, resting just inches from yours. “Like call you Shortcake… and mean it.”

You lift your gaze slowly, meeting his.

A beat.

Then another.

His voice cracks when he whispers, “You’re not a kid anymore. And I’m not pretending I don’t love you.”

The silence breaks loud, deafening.

You swallow hard. “Then don’t call me Shortcake like it’s a joke. Not unless you mean it like a promise.”

His fingers lace through yours.

And this time, when he says it, it’s barely a breath

“Shortcake.”

And it sounded more than anything you wanted to hear.

“By the way don't start measuring your ingredients…I like when it's overflowing” he whispered, closing the distance and you smiled into the kiss. And for the first time you did not regret the overwhelming amount of tea you made for him.

Not anymore.

THE END