#riize ot7

He glanced at you for a second— you were peacefully sleeping, arms crossed against your chest and your head falling to your right side. You’d been asleep for at least twenty minutes, and he had no intention of waking you up yet. He wanted to let you rest as much as you needed, now that you could.

There was something about the peaceful look on your face that made his lips twist into a smile. Not only did you look cute like that, but you also seemed at ease. Free. Quiet.

His hand moved to your thigh, caressing it softly with his thumb as his attention returned to the road.

U2 was now playing on the radio— fingers tapping softly against the steering wheel as he listened to the song, suddenly losing all signs of sleepiness. He turned the volume up, just a little.

He quickly glanced through your window. He saw the last shade of purple disappear right after the sun, leaving the night sky full of stars and a bright waning crescent moon. Everything was so quiet outside, yet so loud inside.

Even though he was already getting used to the boring silence, he somehow loved the sound of the chaos you brought into his life.

You were as much a bomb, in the best possible way.

His eyes found their way back to you— you moved ever so slightly, finding a more comfortable position before continuing your sleep like nothing had happened. He caressed your thigh through your jeans delicately, shiny eyes and a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

If only everyone could know the quiet joy of living by your side.

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You didn’t feel uncomfortable, though. It almost felt like you were both rethinking the words that would eventually come out. But for some reason, you just knew you should be the one to throw the first rock. After all, you were the one who owed him an explanation.

But you didn’t know how.

Was there an easy way to explain the endless storm inside your head? Or the way your thoughts kept conspiring against your own mind?

Was that even necessary now? Wouldn’t it be easier to just explain how your stomach twisted every time he was around? Or how much you loved hearing his shy voice, talking about whatever came into his mind?

There was no need to make things more difficult for yourself. Not anymore.

“I meant what I said at the park.”

The first words finally came out. Your fingers tapped against the cup of coffee as you spoke— your voice hesitant at first, yet at the same time completely sure of what you were saying. Raw. Honest.

You cleared your throat, lifting the cup and taking a short sip. It was still hot.

You placed it back on the table, your eyes fixed on your name written on the cardboard cup. They’d spelled it wrong, and the silly mistake had already made Anton laugh nervously a few minutes ago, when you’d just gotten your drinks.

Before the two of you fell silent— hundreds of unspoken words trying to find their way out.

After a short pause, you finally spoke again.

“I guess I was just… scared,” you admitted in a whisper, your voice carrying a small hint of vulnerability. “I’ve never liked someone like this before. This strongly.”

You hesitated for a moment, lips parted as you searched for the right words to explain exactly what you were feeling.

It was impossible. There was no correct way to say everything you needed to say, to explain the weight you carried in your chest. But it didn’t matter anymore— not when he was right there beside you.

“I’m scared of dragging you into my mess.”

There was a brief pause.

You could feel the lump returning to your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. Still, you managed to keep your composure, not wanting to break down in front of him. Not yet.

Maybe he was finally seeing that you weren’t as strong as he thought— that the image you showed the world was nothing but a defense mechanism, something you’d built to protect yourself from being hurt again.

But you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t mind being seen as you truly were— weak and vulnerable.

“Even though I feel this connection, something that keeps pulling me back to you, I don’t know if I can actually get better.”

Your eyes, now slightly glassy, met his for the first time that day.

“I’m scared I’d end up hurting you. Sooner or later.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, his left hand cupping his black coffee as his gaze drifted elsewhere.

You stared ahead as you brought the cup back to your lips, taking small sips. Still hot. However, there was no rush. This wasn’t like the other days when you came in a hurry— you could wait the whole afternoon for it to cool.

After a few seconds of silence, Anton’s quiet voice finally broke through.

“You don’t know if you’ll hurt me if we don’t even try,” he said.

He still wasn’t looking at you. His voice was as shy and gentle as always— everything you needed to feel at ease.

You watched his hand as he played with the cup, slowly tracing its edges with his thin fingers. You paid special attention to the red stains on his fingertips— the marks left by his bass strings.

“I’m not…” He started, pausing before continuing. “I’m not immune to messing things up either. I could hurt you too.”

Then he looked at you— his expression serious, yet soft. His eyes met yours again, cautiously.

You felt your heart beating a little faster as you chewed the inside of your cheek, the lump in your throat slowly dissolving, though not disappearing completely.

His lips parted, releasing a short sigh.

“I think the point is going through those changes together,” he said. “Not pretending you don’t have my hand to hold on to.”

Silence settled between the two of you again— this time lighter. Easier.

The voices inside the café no longer felt distant, and only then did you realize you couldn’t hear the storm anymore.

You slowly turned toward the window behind you— thin raindrops now fell lazily from the sky, the clouds parting just enough to let the sun peek through after a long week of gray, rainy days.

“Oh. It stopped raining,” you said.

Anton followed your gaze, turning to look outside. You glanced at him— the weak sunlight brushing against his skin, making it glow softly.

“Want to go for a walk?” he asked, his eyes finding their way back to yours.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you grabbed your cup of coffee.

Outside, the rain was fading away, leaving the pavement damp and filled with that familiar scent you liked so much. The sunlight was faint, but warm enough to be felt. Like a sunshower.

As you walked down the street, watching people close their umbrellas and slow their pace, you let the silence settle comfortably between you. You knew it wouldn’t last long— Anton always had something to say.

You took a long sip of your coffee. It wasn’t hot anymore.

“Did you know I used to play the cello when I was younger?” he said, taking a sip before continuing. “My father used to take me to a music school, and I played a lot of instruments…”

There it was.

You looked up at him, a small smile forming as you listened in silence. You could spend hours hearing his stories, just to watch the way his eyes lit up with excitement every single time.

As he spoke, you glanced up at the sky. It looked so nice— the clouds took a soft shade of gray, the sun filtering through them just enough. Enough to stop the rain, to give you a break from the storm.

You looked back at Anton, gently grabbing his arm as you walked, taking your time.

After all, it wasn’t going to rain again anytime soon.

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You stopped paying attention to the music banging through your earbuds when your mind brought back the memory of what happened that night at the bar, and you could feel your stomach twisting ever so slightly. The image of that girl’s face, stained with those little drops of blood, still haunted you to this day, and not even your new psychologist could take it out of your head.

You shook your head slightly, trying to push those thoughts away and focus on the main issue now— what should you say to Anton? How were you supposed to find the words to explain whatever had happened to you that night? Considering he’d actually listen to you this time, of course.

How could anyone believe you after that, though?

Five minutes into the waiting, you finally noticed Anton’s figure among the few people walking around the park.

As you turned your earbuds off and shoved them into your pocket, you could feel your body tense all of a sudden. Why were you so nervous about this? It almost seemed like you were afraid of the mere idea of facing him and actually talking this time. Maybe it was because you knew there was no turning back— you were there, and you had to accept your own mistakes.

“Have you been waiting for too long?” he asked, his voice ragged and slightly agitated as he sat down next to you. It almost looked as if he’d come running or something.

You shook your head slowly in response. You wanted to say something, to actually answer his question and tell him that he didn’t need to worry about it, but no words came out of your mouth, and you couldn’t understand why.

There was a short pause between the two of you— a silence that buzzed in your ears and slowly made you feel uncomfortable.

Should you go first? Or should you wait until he said the first words? After all, he was the one who had asked you to meet him at the park in the middle of the night, with such shitty weather, and without giving any useful information about what he wanted to talk about.

But just when you were about to gather enough courage to say the first word, he beat you to it.

“You already know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

Your head slowly turned in his direction as soon as you heard his words. There was a clear sign of confusion in your expression, all because you were definitely not expecting to hear that.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he whispered. He leaned his back against the bench, his eyes now fixated on the floor, almost as if he were embarrassed to look at you. “Why didn’t you tell the guys the truth? I know I didn’t give you the chance to explain yourself, but you could’ve done that with them.”

Did he know the truth? Was he trying to say that he had somehow managed to discover what actually happened that night?

Then he explained everything— the texts, the plan, the jokes that came after that. Everything. He also tried to find the words to explain how disgusted and stupid he felt, and how much he wished he could turn back time and break up with Kyujin before she started to control his whole life.

And then the silence fell between the two of you again.

Your mind was still processing what he’d said, and there were a few questions floating inside your head— would this whole situation become a joke in the future, or would it remain one of those fragile topics?

Anton seemed uncomfortable with the silence, especially after getting used to the noise that surrounded you both. However, he didn’t want to force you into speaking, knowing you’d probably be mad at him for not letting you explain yourself before.

But even though he tried really hard to keep his mouth shut, only tapping his foot frantically against the floor, he failed at the task and spoke.

“She was crazy,” he whispered, almost as if he were embarrassed to admit those words out loud. One of you had told him before that Kyujin wasn’t exactly what she looked like, and he himself had had a few chances to open his eyes and leave her.

He didn’t, though.

“She kept saying that you were in love with me,” he said softly, and this time you just knew he was embarrassed by his own words. He laughed sarcastically, his eyes dropping back to the floor. “She was—”

“I was, actually.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, cutting him off mid-sentence. You’d been enjoying the sound of his voice, the fact that he was finally speaking softly to you again.

But now he was silent.

You turned your head just in time to catch the flicker of confusion that crossed his expression. His cheeks slowly took on a faint pinkish tone, his fingers curling at the edge of the bench as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I don’t know if I’m in love with you,” you explained quickly, looking away to avoid making him even more nervous. “But I know I like you. A lot.”

The silence stretched again, this time feeling lighter and less unbearable for some reason.

He didn’t say anything, but the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him. And even though he tried to hide it before you could notice, he failed. Miserably.

You exhaled softly, feeling something loosen inside your chest. It almost felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you were finally able to breathe.

Before doubt —and whatever had been keeping you awake lately— could crawl back in, you stood up from the bench. You didn’t even notice how dark the gray clouds above had gotten, announcing the upcoming rain.

You looked down at him for a moment, noticing a few stars sparkling in his eyes as he sat there, expectant of what was coming next.

You leaned down slightly, and without any warning, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“See you around, Toni.”

And then you left. Just like that— no more words, no explanation, not even a clear message of what that simple action meant. Nothing.

You knew it wasn't necessary.

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note ★ yooooo guys this is going to end soon djjsjdjsjdjsjs I really liked this chapter ngl kk