“Miss Y/N?”

You turned your head to the right, catching sight of your neighbour, Na Bora, gently rocking her four-month-old baby in her arms. Her husband, Poong Woonho, had likely slipped in earlier to unlock the door and set down the groceries so that he could return to help her inside.

“Yes, Aunt Bora?” you asked. Though she wasn’t nearly old enough to warrant the title, the habit of addressing her formally had long been etched into you— an inheritance from the strict cultural etiquette instilled by your family.

“This is for you.” Bora stepped just past the threshold of her apartment before retreating again, extending a paper bag toward you. When you accepted it, your breath hitched. Inside was a bouquet of your favourite flowers, wrapped with neat precision, a small note tucked delicately alongside.

“Your boyfriend left this yesterday,” Bora said with a knowing smile.

Your brow arched at the unexpected word: boyfriend. Since when did you have one?

You glanced back at your neighbor, uncertainty flickering across your face. “My boyfriend?”

Bora nodded without a hint of doubt, adjusting her daughter into a more comfortable position before replying matter-of-factly. “Yes. The one who’s always visiting your apartment. Dark hair, light eyebrows?”

Oh.

“He came over?” you asked, your voice edged with disbelief. Bora answered with another simple nod.

“He didn’t tell you…?” she pressed gently, but your silence was an answer enough. She caught the fleeting shift in your expression before Woonho reappeared, relieving her by taking their daughter into his arms.

“I don’t mean to pry, but…” Bora leaned in slightly, her voice softening into a conspiratorial whisper, the kind reserved for crowded gatherings, though here it was only the two of you standing in the quiet hallway. “...he’s been coming here every day.”

It had been weeks since you severed ties with Sangwon. No explanations. No confrontation. Not even the courtesy of letting him speak his side. Just a single text, short and decisive, declaring it was better to end whatever it was you both shared. And before he could respond, before his words could sway you, you blocked him from every corner of your online world.

Because you knew yourself too well. One tender phrase, one carefully chosen promise, and you would have crumbled right back into his orbit.

You missed him— of course you did. But this was the only choice that felt right. Better to cut the thread cleanly now than to let yourself sink further, only to drown in the weight of your own expectations.

“Did he… say anything?” The question scraped out of you, held together by the last threads of composure. You swallow against the heavy air lodged in your throat, forcing yourself not to unravel over a gesture that might only serve him more if you let him back into your life.

“Not really.” Bora gave a small shake of her head, then glanced toward the living room where her husband had gone. “Actually, it was Woonho who received the paper bag. He was taking out the trash when he ran into your boyfriend in the hallway, standing right outside your door.”

She paused before finishing softly, “He handed it over, asked us to give it to you… if we happened to see you.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, the sudden dryness making every breath feel brittle. After offering your neighbour a final word of thanks and a polite bow, you slipped into your studio, shutting the door firmly behind you. Your steps felt heavier than usual, dragging you toward the couch until you sank onto it, leaving the paper bag on the coffee table.

The flowers peeked out from their wrapping— white oxeye daisies threaded with soft pink gerberas, arranged with deliberate care.

He remembered.

A sting bloomed in your chest, sharper than you wished to admit. How were you supposed to move on when he still carried the smallest fragments of you so precisely in his memory?

You leaned forward, fingers brushing against the edge of a small envelope tucked inside the paper bag. With a hesitant pull, you slid the letter free, Sangwon’s familiar, meticulous handwriting unfolding before your eyes.

If you ever accept this, please contact me. Let me make things up.

A sigh broke past your lips before you could stop it. You bit down on your lower lip, head falling back against the couch as your gaze fixed blankly on the ceiling above.

It was a war waged in silence. Your mind against your heart, reason against the ache of longing.

Your mind betrayed you, tugging you back to the last time you saw Sangwon— when he had invited you to the apartment he shared with his close friend, Lee Leo, under the pretense of watching a classic movie.

He’d claimed he had never seen The Notebook and coaxed you into joining him with the excuse of improving his English, reminding you of the offhand comment you once made about your supervisor urging you to polish your language skills.

Well, it never crosses your mind that learning a foreign language with Sangwon would end up with you giving him a blowjob.

The film had been long forgotten, Sangwon’s laptop abandoned on the edge of his bed. He leaned back against the headboard, head tipped, fighting to keep control while you drew dangerously close, each motion unraveling the boundaries between you. He used his all mighty to not grab you by your hair and force you all the way to the base of his dick— not when your tongue dangerously laid under his cock, tracing each vein that popped out. 

“Fuck,” Sangwon groaned, eyes squeezing shut as the heat surged through him. The muffled sounds you made, broken moans tangled with soft, wet gurgles, blurred into the soundtrack of the movie still playing faintly in the background, nothing more than a flimsy disguise against the world beyond his door.

His fingers slid into your hair, gathering the strands into his grip for a makeshift ponytail, guiding you in a rhythm that left his breath unsteady. Each vibration of your voice sent shivers racing through him, the warmth of your tongue under his cock pulling his composure apart thread by thread that caused his eyes to roll to the back. A low growl escaped him, rough with pleasure, as his head tipped back.

Sangwon almost reached his climax like a teenager having his first time sex the moment your lips eased up, teasing only his tip, causing his breath to stutter. Your tongue swept slowly, deliberately, while your hand tightened around what remained untouched, coaxing his body closer and closer to the edge— raw, consuming, unstoppable.

“Sto..Stop— Fuck, princess—” Sangwon’s grip on your hair tightened, his other hand instinctively trying to pull you away. But you refused, holding firm, determined to take all of him. His thoughts were a haze, reason slipping through his fingers as release took over. With one final thrust and a guttural sound tearing from his chest, he spilled into your mouth, and you swallowed down every last drop.

A soft pop followed as you finally pulled back, your gaze lifting through lowered lashes. From your place at his knees, you caught the sight of his features slowly unclenching, the tension in his jaw easing as his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths.

When his eyes opened, they found yours. A rough chuckle escaped him before he reached down, guiding you up to straddle his thighs. His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, the faint taste of himself lacing the press of his tongue against yours. When you broke apart, a thin string lingered between you, your palms pressed flat to his chest through the soft black of his T-shirt— one that did little to hide the firm lines of muscle beneath.

“When did you get this good at giving someone a blowjob?” Sangwon’s voice was lighter now, teasing, though the air still clung with the scent of sweat and sex.

You chuckled, tilting your head at him with a glint in your eyes. “What? Did you really think I’d stay a rookie forever?”

The memory of your earlier attempts flashed between you both. The first time had ended in awkward laughter after your teeth had grazed his cock, making him hiss more in pain than pleasure as he quickly pulled you away. The second time was better— until your fingers unknowingly gripped his balls too harshly, forcing him to stop again with a near-panicked groan about his chances of ever having kids.

Not that it was entirely your fault. Your education had come from stolen glimpses of 18+ clips online through Twitter. Still, determination has driven you further. Eventually, you found yourself subscribing to whole sites, not to indulge but to study. Every spare moment became practice in observation, watching how the women there drew out gasps and eye-rolling bliss, taking notes in your mind, intent on mastering the art rather than merely imitating it.

“You’re crazy, hah.” Sangwon’s laugh was low, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as both hands clutched your sides through the thin fabric of your shirt.

The truth was, he had intended to watch the movie with you. But that resolve scattered the moment you’d appeared at his door, dressed in a striped shirt that traced your curves with every line of gray and white, paired with a black pleated skirt that swayed lightly around your thighs. You had come straight from a casual dinner with your university friends, unaware of the effect you had when you stepped into his space.

Now, with your skirt fanning out against his bare skin, his pyjama pants discarded carelessly on the floor, his restraint frayed further. You felt it in the way his body shifted beneath you, his throbbing cock grinding against the thin barrier of your panties, pulling a raw, involuntary moan from your lips.

“Won.” His name left your lips in a breath, and that was all the permission he needed. With hurried fingers, Sangwon slid your damp underwear aside, baring you to him. His other hand fumbled into the bedside drawer for a condom, rolling it down over his dick full of girth in a rushed motion before pressing into you. The stretch stole a grunt from his chest, echoed by the sound you made as he filled you.

Your arms instinctively wound around his neck, your face burying against the curve of his shoulder. Each breath you released against his skin only drew deeper groans from him, his hips snapping upward as yours met them in perfect rhythm. The sharp slap of skin against skin filled the room, becoming a melody that belonged to the two of you alone.

Sangwon’s low, guttural grunts grazed your ear, his thrusts unrelenting as he chased the growing tension between you. “C-close,” you gasped, the word breaking as the heat in your body coiled tighter. He already knew every part of you too well, each sweet spot studied with the same precision as if he were preparing for an exam. And under his touch, it didn’t take long before you began to unravel.

You didn’t know what possessed you— only that the words slipped out before you could stop them. “I… I love you,” you breathed against his neck, the syllables trembling in the quiet.

Something shifted instantly. The air between you seemed to tighten, and Sangwon froze for a heartbeat before drawing you even closer, as though the confession had cracked something open inside him. He increased the speed, almost moving like an animal in heat.

His hands slid to your hips, firm but gentle, spreading your hole even wider as his hips rolled upward, matching with your downward thrusts. He buried his face in your hair for an instant, his breath catching, before lifting his head to whisper near your ear, “L-Look at m- hah, look at me please—”

It took every ounce of courage you had to meet his gaze. And when you did, the sight of his eyes: raw, vulnerable, alight with something more than desire, made your heart twist. Despite the uncertainty trembling through you, you held his gaze, letting the truth of your feelings linger unspoken in the space between you.

There was something about his eyes that always drew you in. Those wide, soft, boba-like eyes could shift in an instant, turning stormy and intense when emotion swelled between you. You’d memorized the way his pupils widened, how his brows would knit together when he was on the edge of climax, and the subtle tug of his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Somehow, without you even realizing it, moments spent facing each other— sharing a kiss, holding a gaze, had become the most intimate thing of all. For most people in arrangements like yours and Sangwon’s, closeness wasn’t part of the deal. Friends with benefits wasn’t supposed to feel tender.

And yet… somehow, with him, it did.

How did something as simple as kissing, something as fleeting as holding another’s gaze, become so important to Sangwon? Especially for someone who, at least on the surface, seemed to use you to fill the hollow left behind after his breakup. 

To claim you, even if only temporarily.

Your thoughts scattered when a rush of emotion tightened in your stomach, and a soft, helpless sound escaped you as Sangwon drew closer, his breath warm against your skin. Instinctively, your body leaned into the familiar comfort of him. His right hand rested firmly at your hip, the other steadying at your waist.

“Please… say it again,” Sangwon whispered near your neck.

You blinked, confused by the plea. Say what again?

But before you could ask, his voice, low and unguarded, broke the silence once more. “Say that you love me.”

You were too stunned to respond when his words reached you. Confusion and the overwhelming rush of feeling tangled together, leaving your mind reeling.

“Pl–Please… princess,” Sangwon whispered, his breath hot against your skin. The warmth of it sent a flush creeping up your ears, and the vulnerable edge in his voice. Those fragile, aching whines were impossible to ignore.

“I… I love you, Sangwon…” The words slipped out, carried by all the courage and clarity you had left. Your voice wavered, breaking into muffled sounds as the world around you blurred into the dizzying storm of emotion he’d stirred within you— deeper, fiercer than anything you’d known before.

“C-Close,” you gasped, voice trembling. “Fuck Won, I’m so close—” His name left your lips in a desperate mantra, your breath catching as the rush of release overtook you, leaving your body trembling and weak, lubricated his dick with your cum.

Your limbs felt boneless, yet Sangwon didn’t falter. He held you steady, supporting you against him as he chased the crest of his own need, determined and unrelenting even as you sagged against his hold.

“I’m close too, hngh—” he breathed through gritted teeth, his voice rough, threaded with strain. You could feel the tremor running through him, the tension coiled tight between you as your legs quivered under the weight of the moment.

You leaned in, ready to press your lips to his, a small, intimate gesture amid the chaos— when his next words shattered everything. 

The sound of his voice brought the world to a standstill. It was as though gravity itself had turned on you, the air heavy, your chest tightening beneath an unseen weight.

“I… I, hah… I love you too,” Sangwon breathed, his fingers digging into your skin as the last word slipped out on a trembling exhale— just as he shuddered with release. “...Ahreum.”

The name struck your ear like a cruel echo, reverberating in a loop you couldn’t silence, no matter how desperately you wished to. It carried on that same low, breathless voice you’d grown to cherish. The tender, needy tone he only ever used when he was on the edge.

But now, that sound, the one you had adored, curdled into something sharp and bitter. The sweetness you once loved became the very thing you wished you could forget.

A low, breathless chuckle slipped past Sangwon’s lips as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, the sound almost tender in its exhaustion. “Fuck, princess,” he murmured, the words brushing warmly against your skin.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each inhale and exhale evening out as he cradled you in his arms. He didn’t offer another word, content to let the silence settle like a fragile truce between you. Two bodies still tangled, skin still humming from the aftershocks.

But the stillness wasn’t comforting for you. Not when the memory of him moaning his ex-girlfriend’s name rang louder than the sound of your own heartbeat.

After the quiet ritual of cleaning up, Sangwon draped an arm over your body, drawing you close beneath the soft weight of his new blanket. His voice had been a low, soothing hum against your ear, gentle coos meant to lull you to sleep. But you knew better. The comfort wasn’t for you; it was for him. And the proof came quickly, in the steady rhythm of his breathing as he drifted off first, leaving you awake with the echoes of everything unspoken.

You shifted just enough to study his face. Even in sleep, Sangwon looked impossibly perfect— the sweep of long lashes resting on his cheeks, the flawless angles of a face that seemed carved by some patient, loving hand. Once, that beauty alone could have undone you, could have made you believe in every fragile fantasy you’d built around him.

But not now.

Not after tonight.

Your heart ached to surrender, to love him in the way it used to. But pride sat heavier in your chest. And pride, this time, refused to move.

You peeled the blanket from your body, its warmth suddenly oppressive, and slipped out of the bedroom on silent feet. The air outside felt cooler, easier to breathe. In the dim light spilling from the kitchen, you were dressed in one of Sangwon’s old t-shirts and a pair of his loose pyjama pants. Soft cotton that fits more like a refuge than the clothes you’d worn earlier.

“Might as well tell the whole world you both are fucking.”

The voice shattered the fragile quiet, sharp and low. You nearly cursed, your heart leaping to your throat.

Turning toward the sound, you found Leo sprawled on the couch, legs crossed casually. His right hand scrolled lazily across an iPad screen, while his left cradled a mug that sent out delicate wisps of chrysanthemum tea. The floral aroma reached you, oddly gentle against the bite of his words.

He didn’t even glance up at first, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in his glasses. But the corner of his mouth lifted— just enough to show that he’d been waiting for your reaction all along.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” you asked, your chin tilting toward the wall clock. Its hands hovered lazily over two in the morning, not that the exact minute mattered.

Leo didn’t even look up. The dim light traced the sharp line of his jaw as he flicked through whatever held his attention on the iPad.

The three of you had been tethered to one another since high school. Sangwon shared your class back then, while Leo had been the charismatic president of the broadcast club. You’d only joined that club on a whim during your second year, hoping to pad your co-curricular record after your friend warned you about the grueling options on the list. Then, as if fate had whispered through the school’s speakers, you’d heard the club announcement and felt an inexplicable pull. Soon enough, Sangwon had followed, and the three of you became a fixture in each other’s lives.

Leo had cheered at your graduation. He’d dragged you and Sangwon out to his grandparents’ farm just to celebrate life, mud still clinging to your shoes from running through fields until dusk. The three of you had shared every triumph, every failure— there had never been secrets. Not even about your so-called exclusive relationship with Sangwon.

“Oh, lord.” Leo’s laugh cut through the quiet, warm and teasing, as he arched a brow at you. He finally looked up from his iPad, catching sight of you padding toward the dining room for a glass of warm water. “Tell me, how am I supposed to sleep when my friends are going at it like a pair of rabbits?”

“Blame your friend for his insane hormones,” you shot back with a dramatic roll of your eyes, taking deliberate steps toward the couch. You dropped onto the cushion beside him, the upholstery sinking slightly beneath your weight.

Leo’s lips curved into an amused grin. “My friend and his hormones, huh?” He leaned back, teasing, lacing his tone. “Funny. You talk like Sangwon isn’t your friend to claim.”

“Now, what about my friend and his hormones?”

Your fingers tightened around the cup, eyes tracing the small ripples as you stirred gently, quietly, as if the motion alone could steady your thoughts. The silence between you spoke louder than words ever could. Leo seemed to notice, setting his own cup and iPad on the coffee table before shifting his body just enough to face you fully. One arm rested casually along the back of the couch, the other hugged a pillow against his thighs— a silent offer of attention and comfort.

“What’s going on, sunshine?” he asked softly, using the nickname he had given you years ago, back when your boundless enthusiasm during interviews had made him smile. You had been so bright then. So unshakable in the face of seniors’ pressure, so fearless even when others tried to bring you down. That same warmth lingered in his voice now, a tether to the version of yourself that still believed in trust and honesty.

But as much as you wanted to tell him, the words lodged in your throat. Leo and Sangwon had lived together after graduation; their bond was deep, quiet, and constant. How could you speak freely about Sangwon, his closest friend, without feeling exposed? What if Leo, well-intentioned as he might be, told Sangwon? What if your vulnerability became gossip? What if… everything you felt was suddenly not yours to hold?

“Sunshine?” Leo’s gentle voice reached you, cutting through the swirl of overthinking that threatened to pull you under. His tone was patient, steady, an anchor in the storm of your mind. Summoning every last ounce of courage, you lifted your gaze from the cup and met his eyes— eyes that waited for you, without judgment, without hurry.

“He… called his ex’s name,” your voice wavered, trembling with the weight of the confession. The mere sound of it drew concern from Leo, his posture shifting subtly, his expression softening. He understood without needing every detail.

“He knows I like him, and he… he still says someone else’s name.”

A single tear hovered at the corner of your eye before sliding down your cheek. Your carefully constructed facade, the mask you’d worn for so long, cracked under the strain, letting the raw truth of your hurt show.

Just like your heart.

The late night stretched on with Leo quietly listening, his presence steady as your words spilled out in fragments. He watched each tear trace its path down your cheeks, saw the way your shoulders tensed as you fought to muffle the sobs, careful not to be loud enough to wake the man sleeping behind the other door. You weren’t sure how long it lasted, but you remembered the clock on his car’s dashboard when he finally drove you away from the apartment: 4:34 a.m. The soft glow of the digits seared itself into your memory, the exact moment he guided you back to your own space, hoping the distance might ease the ache, or at least dull the memory of what had happened.

From that day forward, you cut yourself off from Sangwon. Every call went unanswered, every text remained undelivered. He had knocked on your door once, twice— and then no more. Sangwon was never the type to force his way into someone’s discomfort, and he must have understood that repeated knocking would only deepen the wound.

In the quiet that followed, you taught yourself to breathe again. To compose the pieces of your heart. To remember, over and over, that whatever you and Sangwon shared was never meant to be permanent. It was only a fleeting chapter, a story that began without a clear beginning and had already written its own ending.

In the days that blurred into weeks, Leo never once forgot you. He checked in quietly, his calls and texts arriving like small lifelines— gentle reminders that someone still cared. Sometimes a deliveryman would appear at your door, holding a steaming container of tteokbokki or a box of hotteok, the warm, familiar scents coaxing you to eat even when your appetite had abandoned you. He never pushed to see you in person, never pressed for conversations you weren’t ready to have. He understood that time, not words, was what you needed most.

Months slipped by. To say you had moved on from Sangwon would’ve been a lie, but the sound of his name no longer summoned butterflies that fluttered recklessly in your stomach. The memories of him didn’t sting as sharply anymore, and even the ghost of his scent didn’t send your mind spinning… or so you convinced yourself.

The alumni party for your high school’s broadcast club rolled around. A two-day, one-night gathering at a rented Airbnb tucked in the quiet countryside. You agreed to go, but only after confirming with Leo that Sangwon wouldn’t be there. Yet the moment you stepped outside and caught sight of Leo’s car pulling into the gravel driveway, your chest tightened.

Because there he was. Sangwon. Stepping out of the passenger seat like a memory you weren’t ready to face, sunlight catching in his dark hair as if no time at all had passed.

“Sangwon changed his mind,” Leo explained quietly, guilt flickering across his features as though the choice had been his own. He offered a sheepish smile, an unspoken apology lingering between you. And though disappointment tugged at your chest, you couldn’t stay mad at him. Not at Leo, the one who had been your lifeline through the wreckage Sangwon left behind.

The reunion unfolded around you with an easy warmth: alumni of every graduating year gathered under string lights, laughter spilling into the night air. Old stories were retold, glasses of soju clinked in cheerful toasts, and the scent of sizzling meat rose from the grill where a handful of volunteers busied themselves at the patio.

Except you.

You excused yourself and slipped back inside, using the excuse of fetching more snacks for the crowd. The warm murmur of laughter dimmed behind you, replaced by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft creak of the old floorboards.

Your fingers stretched toward the high cabinet in search of extra plates when a familiar scent curled through the air— clean, subtle, achingly familiar. A presence drew near, so close you could feel the heat of him at your back. Masculine fingers brushed against yours, just barely a whisper of contact, as they reached past you to open the cabinet door.

You spun around too quickly, heart lodging in your throat. And there he was— the face you had missed against your will, the body whose memory still lingered like starlight on your skin, the lips you’d once believed could silence every restless thought. 

Though, he was the very reason your thoughts had become a storm.

“Here,” Sangwon said, voice steady, almost casual. But the sound of it rang in your ears, deep and devastating, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. He held out a plate, waiting for you to take it.

You didn’t. 

Instead, you turned back, rose onto your toes, and reached for another plate without a word. The space between the countertop and the island felt too narrow, too full of unsaid things, and you stepped through it, a bag of chips tucked under your arm.

“Y/N—”

His voice cracked like a plea, but you kept walking. Out of the kitchen, out of reach— refusing him the chance to rewrite what he’d broken.

The night unraveled in laughter and hazy nostalgia, the patio heavy with the scent of grilled meat and the sharp tang of soju. The alumni, once teenagers with headsets and cameras, were now adults with stories of deadlines, marriages, and mortgages, yet for a few precious hours, they were the same reckless dreamers they used to be.

Most had already surrendered to sleep, some stumbling inside on unsteady legs, others slumping over the patio chairs until friends nudged them toward their assigned rooms.

You remained outside, rooted beside Leo— the quiet constant who had been your anchor when the world had felt like quicksand. His warmth at your side was familiar, unintrusive. Your colleague, Jiheon, her empty seat on your left made the space feel wider, lonelier.

Your fingers found your glass again. You tipped back the last of the soju in a single gulp, the liquid scorching a path down your throat, as though burning might somehow cleanse what you still couldn’t forget.

The edges of the night blurred, your eyelids growing heavy. And then—

That scent. 

That cruel, familiar scent that slipped beneath your defenses and pulled you back to a place you didn’t want to revisit.

“You should stop drinking, Y/N.”

The voice was low, deliberate— Sangwon’s. A voice you had sworn you’d buried, now dragging you back to the surface.

When Sangwon’s fingers brushed your arm, you recoiled harder than you intended. A quick, sharp yank that left his hand hanging uselessly in the cool night air.

The movement stunned him. It wasn’t just a rejection; it was a wall slammed shut. He froze, watching you as if seeing a stranger where the girl he once held had stood. The weight in his chest deepened, confusion twisting with a sting he didn’t want to name.

What had he done? Why did you look at him now as if he were something discarded— unworthy of touch, unworthy of words?

“I’ll go to sleep now.”

Your voice was directed only at Leo, soft but distant, and you didn’t wait for any reply. You turned and walked, your steps unsteady, your frame swaying just enough to betray the alcohol coursing through you. Sangwon’s gaze followed you, helpless, as though his eyes alone could keep you from falling.

But you didn’t look back. You didn’t even hesitate.

Sangwon’s hand lingered at his side, fingers curling into a fist as the door closed behind you, cutting him out once again.

It was a small miracle you managed to slip past the sliding doors without help. But perhaps you celebrated too soon— your foot caught on nothing, the floor tilting beneath you— until a pair of familiar hands steadied you, firm and unyielding.

The touch burned. It hurt to realize that even now, even after everything, your body still betrayed you, still leaned into Sangwon’s grip when you needed saving. As if his return had reminded you that you weren’t as independent as you pretended to be. And you hated yourself for it.

You tore your arms from his grasp, the absence of warmth feeling colder than you expected. Not even a whispered thank you slipped from your lips as you pushed forward, determined to reach the stairs without crumbling.

Then his voice— pleading, raw— broke the air.

“Y/N, please!”

Your steps faltered. One hand gripped the railing as you froze mid-motion, your heart thundering louder than the distant hum of laughter outside.

“Why did you ignore me? Did I do something wrong?” Sangwon’s voice carried no anger, only bewildered hurt, a quiet plea that twisted somewhere deep in your chest.

“Please tell me, Y/N.”

Your fingers curled tighter around the railing, the cold metal biting into your skin as though you could tear it from the staircase and escape with it. The weight of unspoken words crowded your throat, pressing harder, harder… So many things you wanted to say, all of them jagged and trembling, but none willing to cross the gap between you.

His voice lingered, echoing inside your skull, stirring every memory you’d tried so hard to bury. And as always, whenever Sangwon spoke like this: soft, desperate, familiar— you froze. Your heart lurched forward, but your tongue betrayed you, trapping every confession just at the edge of your lips.

The silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, one tug away from snapping.

You had barely lifted your foot to flee when a sharp clatter split the quiet. A sound that seemed far too loud for the dimly lit living room. You spun around, and your breath caught.

Sangwon was on his knees.

His head hung low, shoulders curved inward as though the weight of the moment had finally crushed him. The soft light from the hallway haloed his frame, but there was nothing graceful about him now— only brokenness.

It was the first time you had ever seen him like this: stripped of composure, of the easy arrogance he always carried, of everything that once made him untouchable.

Vulnerable. Desperate.

And you… you couldn’t tell if he wanted you back because he truly couldn’t bear to lose you—or because he had simply lost the comfort of someone to share his bed with.

“Please, Y/N…” His voice fractured on your name, the sound trembling with something perilously close to fear. “Let me make things right… For you. For us.”

“There’s no such thing…” Your words slipped out in a breath, so soft they almost dissolved into the shadows. But they were sharp enough to make him lift his head, his face bare and unguarded beneath the fragile light. “…as us.”

You steadied yourself against the railing, fingers tightening until your knuckles ached, using the sting to anchor you— to keep your emotions from overruling your reason yet again.

“There was never an us to begin with,” you said, each syllable trembling yet deliberate, “so there’s nothing here to fix.”

The words pierced Sangwon’s chest like a bullet— 

One he couldn’t dodge, or maybe one he hadn’t wanted to. 

He stayed there, silent, his eyes locked on yours, begging for even the smallest flicker of what used to be. He waited for you to crumble under his gaze, to seek shelter in his arms like you always had when the world felt too heavy.

But tonight, your eyes betrayed him. They didn’t flicker or shy away. They didn’t widen in flustered surprise or soften with affection. They were steady, cold, and unbearably empty.

When you turned and walked away, your steps echoing up the stairs, Sangwon stayed on his knees in the dim light, the silence pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t bear. That was the moment it sank in— everything had stopped.

The story between you had ended. 

yunah just rolls her eyes and replies, “why’re you so whipped for him? i mean— i get he’s cute ‘n allat, but he’s so oblivious!”

“that’s what makes him cuter!” you exclaim, sighing as you open the door to the café. there he was. your boyfriend who didn’t know he was your boyfriend yet.

he’s getting someones order— a girl. it makes you slightly jealous but then, he locks eyes with you and he smiles, giving a wave. you light up and wave back.

“you look like an absolute dork.” yunah mutters out, dragging you to the line.

once you’re in front of him, you just stare.

his hair, his eyes, those lips, his baby face—

“hey, y/n.”

his soft voice snaps you out of your little observation.

“sangwon.” you say back, smiling at him. he smiles back, already putting in your order on the ipad. “the usual, right?” sangwon asks, looking at you again.

you nod, unable to hide the blush on your face. yunah watches you two, a silent scoff escaping her lips. when you two sit down, she slams the table, making a few people look over.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “he’s so into you!” yunah yell-whispers at you and you can’t help but laugh.

“i wish.” you say flatly. “you are the dumbest person i know.” she says, rubbing her temple with two fingers. “he looks at you the same way you look at him!”

you pout and say, “don’t get my hopes up.” then, sangwon comes up behind you, yunah looking at him, and before you could turn your head to look at what she was looking at, sangwon kisses your cheek.

you froze, turning red as a tomato as he places your drink down on the table along with another one. sangwon walks away and you hesitantly take the drinks and there’s a note on yours it had his number on it and some words. it read; “y/n, be mine?”

on the other drink was a note that said, “another one on the house since i know you love this drink.” you glance at where he went and he’s already staring at you, smiling.

you smile back and nod. then, you get up and walk to him, hugging him. sangwon happily hugs you back, burying his face in your hair.

the scene earns some looks from his co-worker, mostly leo who was squealing with anxin. “i thought you were clueless.” you mumble into his chest.