You paced your room, shooting uncertain glances at the two outfits spread across your bed. They were similar enough that the choice shouldn't have been difficult, yet somehow it felt impossible. One was a pair of black flared jeans paired with a cream sweater. The other was brown jeans with a black sweater.

With an exasperated sigh, you snapped a quick picture and sent it to Wonwoo.

You didn't even bother explaining. You didn't have to.

Black jeans. His reply came almost immediately, and you breathed a sigh of relief. It was so nice to have the weight off your shoulders.

That was one of the things you loved most about him. He just got you. He never questioned why a decision that seemed insignificant to everyone else could leave you frozen for hours. He never told you it wasn't a big deal or asked why you couldn't just choose.

He simply gave you an answer, and you always trusted that he'd be right.

You buttoned up the jeans and yanked on the cropped sweater just as he pulled up the driveway. You ran down the stairs to greet him and flung your arms around his stomach when the door opened.

Your Saturdays with Wonwoo were your favorite tradition. You never had to decide whether to study or go to the bar because you knew you'd be seeing your best friend.

"Nice outfit," he smirked as he hugged you back.

You pulled away with a grin and realized he was wearing the same thing...black jeans and a cream sweater. "We look like a couple," you realized with a laugh as you grabbed your purse from the entryway table.

"I hadn't noticed," he said as he put his arm around you and pulled you towards his car. His lips curved ever so slightly before he reached for the passenger door, opening it for you without another word.

You settled into the familiar passenger seat and awaited the activities for the day. Wonwoo never involved you in the decision-making, so it was always a surprise.

Early on in your friendship, he'd made that mistake exactly once. "Where do you want to eat?" he'd asked.

It had seemed like such a harmless question, but an hour later, you'd somehow convinced yourself that every restaurant was the wrong choice. If you picked burgers, you'd begin thinking of your neighbor's cow that would be disappointed to know you ate red meat. If you picked pasta, you'd remember you'd been craving tacos the night before. Every option felt equally right until they all became equally wrong.

Eventually, you'd looked at him with tears gathering in your eyes and whispered, "Can you just decide?"

So he did...and since then, Saturdays had become wonderfully simple because he always decided everything. He chose where you went. He decided what you ate. If there were multiple new movies out, he selected the best one. If there was a bookstore, he picked which section you'd visit first. If there were three different routes home, he'd already chosen one before you'd even realized there was a decision to make.

People probably would've thought it was controlling. They would've been wrong.

Control felt suffocating.

This felt like breathing.

The café came into view, and before you could even wonder whether you wanted coffee or tea today, he'd already parked.

Inside, he greeted the barista before ordering. "An americano," he said. "And an iced vanilla latte with a chocolate croissant."

And then he paid.

By the time you sat down with your food, your shoulders had relaxed so completely that you hadn't realized how tense they'd been all morning. You took the first bite of your half of the croissant and opened your phone.

"How long is it this week?" he asked as he sipped his coffee and sat back with a steady interest.

You pulled up your note titled Questions for Wonwoo and flashed the screen at him. "Not too bad. I think there's 12."

"Alright, hit me," he urged with a smirk, as if being the decision-maker was the highest honor.

"Okay, first...my geography presentation," you began. "Norway or Chile?"

"Norway."

You checked it off immediately. There wasn't even a flicker of doubt that whatever Wonwoo chose would work out.

"Should I buy the green comforter or the pink one?"

"Green."

You documented his responses as if they were law.

"Should I cut my bangs?"

"No."

You hadn't even realized you'd been hoping he'd say that until relief settled over you. Each answer quieted another part of your mind. One less thing to think about. One less decision waiting for you when you went to bed. By the time you reached the last question, your food was gone and your coffee was drained.

You looked at it for a long moment before reading it aloud. "I was asked out by Jake and Niki for next Friday. Who should I choose?"

For the first time that afternoon, Wonwoo didn't answer immediately. The silence was so unusual that your eyes instinctively lifted from your phone.

He was looking at you with his lip bitten as he weighed the options, a habit you thought was exclusively yours.

"I thought you said you didn't like the way Niki's sweatshirts wouldn't fit you and that you're scared of Jake's pet bird."

"Yeah, but what if I judged them too harshly? Maybe I should give them another chance and see how it goes."

"Are you suddenly interested in wearing too-tight sweatshirts or being a stepmom to a cockatoo?" he questioned. His tone was a lot snappier than usual and you pulled away, wondering what you'd done wrong.

Maybe he didn't like birds either...or maybe he wanted you to be small enough to fit Niki's clothes...or maybe he had meant to make plans with you for Friday...or maybe...

"I'm sorry," he interjected, his words ending the surge of options running through your mind immediately. "I just don't get why you'd waste your time on them when it's clear they aren't right for you."

"Oh...I didn't know they were that wrong for me," you frowned as you typed it into your phone.

Turn down Jake and Niki.

Then beneath Jake and Niki's names, you typed two simple words.

Not right.

You read it over once before locking your phone and slipping it back into your purse. Almost immediately, the familiar calm settled over you. The question no longer existed. It didn't matter that both men had seemed kind or that either date could have gone well. Wonwoo had answered it, and that meant your mind was finally free to move on to something else.

“I feel better,” you admitted softly, gathering the last flakes of pastry from your plate. “I was thinking about that one all morning.”

“I bet,” Wonwoo said, unsurprised.

“I kept changing my mind. I even made a spreadsheet.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I assumed you had.”

You smiled back before glancing toward the window. People hurried past the café carrying shopping bags and iced coffees, all of them making hundreds of tiny decisions without ever seeming to notice they were making them. You'd always wondered what that felt like. Whether it was really possible to wake up, choose an outfit, decide what to eat, where to go, what route to drive, and never once feel your chest tighten beneath the weight of all the possibilities you were giving up.

You'd asked your therapist once if everyone else was simply better at making decisions than you were. She'd explained that most people didn't think through every possible outcome the way you did. You'd tried to tell her that it hadn't felt like thinking but drowning, but you weren't sure she understood.

Wonwoo did, though.

There was something strangely comforting about the certainty with which he moved through the world. He never rushed his decisions, but he never seemed trapped by them either. Once he'd reached an answer, he trusted it completely, and somewhere over the years you'd begun trusting it too. It was easier than trusting yourself.

You turned away from the woman fighting her toddler into a stroller and back to him with an eager smile. "What's next?"

"I scheduled us for a visit to go apple picking," he informed you as he stood and reached for your hand. He gave your hand a playful tug until you stumbled into his chest.

You looked up at him with a laugh and swiped a croissant crumb from the corner of his mouth.

"You two are so cute," an older woman said as she walked by.

"Thanks," you answered with a smile. You'd been interpreted by strangers as his girlfriend many times before. It wasn't worth the argument to explain that you were friends...especially when dressed the same.

Wonwoo collected your trash and tossed it on the way to the car. You imagined apple picking and were already stressed by all the decisions that entailed. Which type of apple should you get? If you chose wrong it would limit what you could make later. Or maybe he didn't want to make anything...maybe you were meant to pick ones that tasted best on their own. And if that were the case, if there were no recipe to follow, how many should you get? Too few and you may regret not having taken advantage of the fresh fruit...too many and you'd feel selfish for having apples rot on your kitchen counter.

When Wonwoo got into the car he looked over to find you biting your nails...a habit that came when decisions were mounting.

"How many? Which kind? Are we cooking or..." you began when he reached for your hand, squeezing it tight.

"12 Fuji since you said they tasted best. No recipe this time. 12 will give you a good amount to enjoy without getting sick of them."

You exhaled and hugged his arm. "Thank you."

He kissed the top of your head and let you hold him until you were ready to separate. Only then did he start the car and begin the drive to the orchard.

The whole way you were at ease as you listened to Wonwoo's playlist. He often curated them for the weekend, and this time was no exception. When the Wind Blows by Yoona filled the car, and he sang along softly while you listened. You'd always loved his voice, so warm and gentle. It was almost disappointing when he parked the car and shut it off.

Wonwoo held your hand as he often did and gave the man guarding the entrance his name and time slot information. He handed Wonwoo a basket and informed him of where the Fuji apples were.

The orchard was beautiful. The trees surrounding it were a perfect autumn mix, and the apple trees were all lined up so orderly that it made walking between them feel like a little hallway.

Equally cute were the families and partners enjoying the sunny day. Couples were taking photos together and kids chased each other with worms. Their laughter was the only sound apart from the occasional thud of an apple falling.

“Oooh, that one looks perfect,” Wonwoo pointed out. The tree was on your side of the aisle so you plucked it and added it to the basket. He selected a few more and you took turns picking them from the trees until he decided he wanted one higher than either of you could reach.

“Here, get on my shoulders,” he said as he knelt down.

You straddled his neck and giggled as he stood and brought you up to the apple in question. A girl nearby pointed at him and tugged on her mom’s shirt. “Mommy, he’s so strong!” she exclaimed.

Her mom turned around to watch and approached before you could grab the apple. “Do you two want a picture?”

Wonwoo answered and handed over his phone before turning to her. You sat up straighter and smiled as wide as you could before he turned to give you a chance to grab the apple again. This time, you snagged it out of the tree and placed it in Wonwoo’s waiting hand.

“Mister? Can she get this one for me?” the little girl asked as he pointed at another apple too high to be plucked by a single person.

“Of course,” Wonwoo told her before bringing you to the tree she’d chosen.

You grabbed her apple and handed it to Wonwoo who crouched down to give it to her. You took the opportunity to get off of his shoulders, stumbling back as you did so and falling into your basket. He turned worriedly only to find you laughing and unable to free yourself.

He began laughing too and pulled you to stand again. He fixed your hair that had gotten messed up in the fall, the warmth in his eyes silencing the oncoming worries about the apples.

The moment felt frozen in time as you gazed into his eyes. Wonwoo had always been able to make you feel at peace, but this felt different. You wanted to ask him why, but the little girl tugged on his shirt. “Can you help me get another one?”

Wonwoo turned to lift her on his shoulders, too, and you watched with a melting heart as she giggled and grabbed the highest one she could reach.

“You have a keeper,” the woman said as she gave you his phone for safekeeping. “And he’s a natural with kids.”

You smiled at Wonwoo as he celebrated the perfect apple with the little girl by giving her a high five. She thanked him and hugged his legs before pulling her mom along to another section.

“How did the picture come out?” he asked.

You opened his phone and realized she’d taken dozens of photos. She not only got the posed photo, but a few where you picked the apple, some where you’d fallen, and a dozen of Wonwoo looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter.

He looked over your shoulder at the image you’d stopped on, and you noticed his cheeks flush. “I didn’t know she had kept photographing us.”

You looked up and felt the same stillness when your eyes connected. It was as though the world finally settled.

“I have a question,” you breathed, watching his brows furrow as he analyzed what worry could’ve been plaguing you.

“I have an answer,” he replied playfully.

You had the sudden urge to cup his cheek…to bring him closer. You held his face in your hand, sighing gently when his eyes closed. He looked so beautiful…he always had, but you never let yourself see it before.

“Would it be a bad idea…” you began, with a gentle brush of his cheek. Wonwoo’s hum made your heart skip several beats. “…If we went on a date Friday?”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected you to want such a thing, but it wasn’t long before his lips that had spoken thousands of decisions into existence turned into your favorite, familiar smile.

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” he confessed as he let you draw him closer. Wonwoo seemed content to let you decide where you wanted him, and since you wanted no distance between you, he placed his hands on your waist and took a step forward.

“And if I want to kiss you…” You trailed off, unsure how to even ask such a thing.

Wonwoo’s smile grew even wider, his eyes sparkling in adoration. “It appears you can make decisions.”

It hit you that your decisiveness existed after all…but was simply limited to how you felt about Wonwoo. You had decided long ago to trust him. You had decided to mark off every Saturday on your calendar since you’d be busy with him. Those decisions had come so easily that it hadn’t felt there was even another option.

“Only when the answer is you,” you confessed before closing the gap and pressing your lips to his.

Wonwoo’s hands massaged your sides as he moaned into the kiss. For the first time it felt so easy to know what you wanted. You wanted Wonwoo…and you wanted to keep kissing him.

With his lips on yours, every doubt you’d ever had, every worry dissolved to nothing. The world faded around you, leaving just you and Wonwoo in an empty plain where a single question repeated—one you didn’t need his help to answer.

Who has always been the answer?