Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wonwoo had never been the kind of person people noticed. He was quiet, kept to himself, and buried most of his time in books. It wasn’t that he disliked others, he just never quite fit in. He studied hard, spoke little, and before long, his classmates learned to leave him alone. Being on the sidelines was easier, even if it was lonely.

Then Mingyu came into his life.

Mingyu was everything Wonwoo thought he could never have in a friend. He's warm, kind, and endlessly patient. He noticed things others didn’t, like when Wonwoo skipped lunch to finish homework, or when he struggled to carry too many books at once. Mingyu offered help without hesitation, stayed by his side even when Wonwoo tried to push him away.

At first, Wonwoo thought it was just a phase, that someone like Mingyu, whon is popular, easygoing, loved by everyone, would get tired of him eventually. But he never did. If anything, Mingyu only became more persistent. He dragged Wonwoo into conversations, waited for him after class, shared his snacks without asking.

And slowly, Wonwoo gave in.

They began to walk home together, their strides falling into an unspoken rhythm. Mingyu always talked, filling the silence with stories, jokes, or little complaints about teachers. Wonwoo mostly listened, but he found himself smiling more, even laughing sometimes. Mingyu’s presence was so natural, so easy, that before long they became inseparable.

Everyone in their class noticed it too. 

Mingyu and Wonwoo.

Wonwoo and Mingyu.

They were always together. If someone saw one of them in the hallway, the other was never far behind.

For Wonwoo, those days were on of the happiest he could remember.

Mingyu made sure he ate lunch, even if it meant splitting his own meal. He stayed up late helping Wonwoo review for exams, even though he wasn’t the type to study seriously on his own. On rainy days, he held his umbrella so wide it left his own shoulder wet, just to keep Wonwoo dry.

It was in these small things that Wonwoo’s feelings grew. They crept in quietly, day by day, until he could no longer pretend it was just friendship. Mingyu wasn’t just his classmate or friend anymore. He was the person Wonwoo searched for in a crowd, the one who could make a bad day bearable with a single smile.

And sometimes, Wonwoo thought maybe Mingyu felt it too.

Why else would he choose to be friends with him, out of everyone? Why else would he stay so close, when Mingyu could’ve been with anyone he wanted?

The thought filled Wonwoo with a fragile kind of hope.

But one afternoon, Mingyu shattered that fragile hope without even meaning to.

They lingered in the classroom after the bell, the afternoon sun spilling through the windows. Mingyu was leaning back on his chair, a restless grin tugging at his mouth. Wonwoo, as usual, took his time, stacking his notebooks neatly, slipping pens into their case.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” Mingyu said suddenly, his voice lighter than usual, almost playful.

Wonwoo glanced up. “Hmm?”

Mingyu shifted, scratching the back of his neck, though his smile betrayed him. “I think I… like someone.”

For a moment, the air seemed to thin. The zipper of Wonwoo’s bag stuck halfway. He kept his hand steady, his face calm, even as his pulse quickened.“Oh?” he managed, forcing a faint smile. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Mingyu’s grin widened, boyish, almost shy in a way Wonwoo rarely saw. “She’s in the science club. At first, I didn’t even notice her much, but we kept ending up in the same group for lab stuff. And I dunno… I just started talking to her more.”

Every word felt like a quiet blow. Wonwoo managed a small smile, but his chest tightened painfully.

“She’s funny, you know?” Mingyu continued, his voice warm with memory. “Like, she makes the boring experiments less boring. And she’s actually good at explaining things when I mess up. Not in a nerdy way, just… easy to understand. Easy to be around.”

Wonwoo bit the inside of his cheek. He nodded slowly, keeping his expression neutral, even though each word cut deeper. 

“Sounds like you two got close.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, eyes glinting with quiet excitement. “Sometimes we stay behind after club to finish stuff together. And she doesn’t make it awkward or anything. It’s… comfortable. I like that. I like being around her.”

The words landed heavy. Wonwoo forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“She sounds…” he swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “…great.”

“She is,” Mingyu admitted, and then leaned forward on his desk, his grin faltering into something almost shy. “Hey… do you think I should make a move?”

Wonwoo’s heart dropped. His lungs felt too tight, like the air had thinned around him. For a moment he couldn’t speak, his mind scrambling between what he wanted to say and what Mingyu wanted to hear.

He nodded slowly instead, though the movement felt heavy. His gaze dropped to the floor, hoping Mingyu wouldn’t notice how hard it was to keep his smile in place.

"Or maybe I should try talking to her more, you know? Maybe… see where it goes.” Mingyu added.

Wonwoo swallowed hard, pushing the ache deep down where it wouldn’t show. He curved his lips into the best smile he could manage, though it felt brittle. “Yes, you... should do that. See how she will react.” His voice cracked slightly, but Mingyu didn’t notice. 

“If she makes you happy, then… you should try.”

The relief and excitement that lit up Mingyu’s face was like sunlight, bright and warm. And it cut Wonwoo open.

“I knew you’d say that,” Mingyu said, grinning. “You always give the best advice. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Wonwoo’s chest ached at the words. But he only nodded again, closing his bag with hands that felt strangely numb.

He walked home with Mingyu as he always did, listening, responding at the right moments, pretending nothing was wrong. But the whole time, his heart ached with every laugh, every smile that wasn’t meant for him.

And that night, when he was finally alone, he let it all out. He pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his sobs, his body trembling with all the words he could never say. He cried until his chest hurt, until his body gave in to exhaustion.

Now, he had to keep it all to himself. Mingyu didn’t know his feelings. He could never know.

Because with someone else already filling his heart, Wonwoo knew he no longer stood a chance.

So he stayed by his side anyway, even if it broke him.

Chapter Text

Time moved forward, even when Wonwoo wished it wouldn’t.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, Mingyu’s casual mentions of the girl he likes became a regular part of their conversations. Wonwoo learned to keep his smile steady, to laugh when Mingyu laughed, and to pretend that every mention of her didn’t splinter something inside him.

He became good at it, the pretending. At school, he was the same quiet, steady Wonwoo everyone knew, and beside Mingyu, he played the part of the supportive friend without fail. No one could guess that every word was weighed, every expression carefully measured, because inside he was breaking in ways he couldn’t even name.

When Mingyu finally introduced her to him, Wonwoo thought she was beautiful. Not just in looks, though she was that too, but in the way she carried herself. She was everything Mingyu had described, nice, friendly, easy to talk to. The kind of girl who seemed to draw people in without even trying.

And in that moment, Wonwoo knew, Mingyu hadn’t exaggerated once. She was perfect.

Perfect for him.

Perfect in all the ways Wonwoo could never be.

He laughed when Mingyu told his stories, even when the sound felt hollow in his chest. He told himself he was happy just to still be by Mingyu’s side, to share these ordinary moments together. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see anyone else when Mingyu was near. It was always him... only him.

And Wonwoo was still hopelessly, desperately in love.

But reality never let him forget. Every time Mingyu’s phone lit up with her name, the way Mingyu’s eyes lit up when she walked into the room, how his voice softened when he spoke her name.

Wonwoo was reminded of what he could never have.

Then one afternoon, Mingyu said it, his eyes shining with pride.

“We’re official now,” he told Wonwoo, his grin bright and unstoppable. “I’m so in love. It feels like… I finally got it right.”

Wonwoo smiled back, his throat tight, his chest aching. “I’m happy for you,” he whispered, and meant it in the only way he could.

Later, when he lay awake in the quiet of his room, there were no tears, no breaking apart. Just silence. A heavy kind of silence that told him he had already lost.

And though his heart still beat for Mingyu, he knew some things weren’t meant to be.

So he carried it quietly, this love he could never speak. The kind that stayed, even when it no longer had a place.

Because Mingyu was happy, and that had to be enough.

One time they went to the beach. 

It was nothing planned, just a random idea Mingyu had tossed out one Friday afternoon. 

“Come on, Wonwoo. Let’s just go. It’ll be fun.” 

And of course, Wonwoo agreed, because when had he ever been able to say no to him?

The sun was warm, the breeze soft against their skin, and for a while, everything felt light. 

Mingyu walked close by his side, brushing against him now and then. He kicked his shoes off and broke into a run, laughing as he splashed into the waves. 

"Join me, Wonwoo," he shouted.

Wonwoo shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Mingyu gave him a playful look but let go, dashing further toward the waves with his laughter carried by the wind. Wonwoo stayed behind, watching him.

The way Mingyu moved so freely, as if the world belonged to him, made Wonwoo’s chest feel tight. 

“Hey!” Mingyu shouted from the water, waving. “What are you standing there for? Come here now!”

Wonwoo sighed but walked closer, letting the cold water reach his toes. Mingyu splashed at him, grinning wide. “You’re no fun if you just stand around.”

“I didn’t come here to get soaked,” Wonwoo muttered, though the corner of his lips curved upward.

Mingyu splashed closer, his hair damp from the spray of the waves. Before Wonwoo could retreat, Mingyu’s arm hooked firmly around his waist, tugging him toward the water.

“Yah, what are you doing?!” Wonwoo stumbled against him, his hands pressing weakly at Mingyu’s chest.

Mingyu laughed, carefree as ever. “What if I just throw you in, huh?”

“Don’t you dare—” Wonwoo shot back, but his voice wavered, not nearly as steady as he wanted it to be.

Mingyu only grinned wider, not moving to push him, just holding him there with an ease that made Wonwoo’s heart race.

“Relax. I’m just joking,” he said, though his arm lingered around Wonwoo’s waist, looking at him. 

Mingyu’s laughter softened into a smile, his gaze warm and close enough to steal his breath away.

Wonwoo stared back, unable to tear his eyes away. He wanted to memorize this, Mingyu’s warmth, his closeness, the way he looked at him like everything was light and easy.

For Wonwoo, it felt like time stretched, like this single, stolen second might be enough to fill all the quiet aching spaces inside him.

A fleeting moment. One he wished could last forever.

But then Mingyu let go.

“You’re so easy to tease,” Mingyu said, chuckling as he stepped back into the waves, splashing water again in Wonwoo’s direction.

Wonwoo forced out a laugh, but inside, his chest tightened with the same thought he could never shake.

How lucky Mingyu's girl was to have all of him in a way Wonwoo never would.

Chapter Text

As months passed, Mingyu spent more and more time with his girl.

Wonwoo could feel the distance growing between them. They were still close, but not in the same way, not always side by side like before.

Graduation came faster than he expected. They celebrated with a simple dinner, just Mingyu, his girlfriend, and Wonwoo. But even then, Wonwoo felt like a third wheel, quietly sitting in the space that used to be his alone.

College was around the corner. He and Mingyu would attend the same university, though in different courses. Wonwoo told himself that things would still be fine, that they would find their rhythm again.

One time, they planned to hang out before starting a new school year to relax. Just the two of them.

But Mingyu didn’t show up.

Wonwoo waited, minutes stretching into hours, his messages left unanswered. As the sun dipped below the horizon and dusk settled in, he finally gave up and went home, the weight in his chest heavier than ever.

That night, it truly sank in.

He wasn’t a priority in Mingyu’s life anymore.

Things had changed. Maybe it was time to let go.

He walked home tired, sad, and lonelier than he’d ever admit.

But later, lying awake in the dark, the ache refused to leave. He wondered if Mingyu would ever know the truth, that while Mingyu’s heart belonged to someone else, Wonwoo’s heart was still his... and only his.

That every night, it was Mingyu he thought of.

Mingyu he loved.

Mingyu he could never have.

The next morning, his phone buzzed.

ggyu 🐶

I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. My girlfriend needed me.

Wonwoo stared at the message, his chest tightening with something he didn’t want to name.

After a long pause, he typed back.

ggyu 🐶

I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. My girlfriend needed me.

It's fine. Hope she's okay.

From that day, he began to distance himself. Not all at once, not enough for anyone else to notice. Just little by little. Shorter replies. Fewer questions. Smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He doubted Mingyu would notice anyway.

Mingyu was too busy, caught up in the glow of his girlfriend, in the new life opening up for him. And Wonwoo, for the first time, began to accept the quiet truth.

That maybe this was how it was meant to be.

That maybe love was only ever his to carry, quietly, until it faded into something less than longing.

So he told himself to let go. To stop hoping. To make peace with a love that was never his to begin with.

But as much as he tried to pull away, his heart never seemed to listen.

Because no matter the distance, no matter the silence, every beat still whispered the same name.

College kept Wonwoo busy. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. He drowned in assignments, signed up for extra activities, and studied late into the night until exhaustion blurred everything else.

So when Mingyu texted him, Wonwoo declined quickly.

ggyu 🐶

Let’s grab lunch tomorrow, my treat.

Can’t. Got class and a paper due.

No worries. You’re working hard, man. I understand.

Wonwoo stared at the words, guilt sinking into him like a stone. Mingyu always believed him. Why wouldn’t he? That was the kind of friend Mingyu was, trusting, easy, never doubting.

But it kept happening. Mingyu asked, and Wonwoo declined.

“Hey, let’s go to that new café after class,” Mingyu said one afternoon, slinging an arm casually around Wonwoo’s shoulder as they walked.

Wonwoo shifted away slightly, adjusting the strap of his bag. “I can’t. We have exam tomorrow, I need to review.”

Mingyu chuckled, unbothered. “Ah, right. Mr. Top Student. I get it. Next time then.”

Always next time.

And Mingyu never seemed to notice the way Wonwoo’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, or how his laughter felt lighter than it used to.

Oblivious, Mingyu kept trying, still sending invitations, still waving across the quad, still tossing casual “see you arounds” as if nothing had changed.

But things had changed.

Wonwoo knew it every time he walked past Mingyu’s usual hangouts without stopping, every time he heard Mingyu’s laughter in a crowd and forced himself not to look. He was cutting pieces of Mingyu out of his life little by little, even if it tore at him each time.

He told himself this was the only way forward. If he wanted to heal, if he wanted to stop aching, he had to make Mingyu just another part of his past.

Still, it hurt because Mingyu didn’t even see it. Didn’t notice the quiet distance, didn’t feel the absence the way Wonwoo did.

And that was the cruelest part.

That to Mingyu, nothing seemed wrong at all.

Or that's what he thought.

𓏧

Wonwoo had started seeing someone. Nothing serious, just casual dinners and study sessions with Eunwoo, a classmate from his department. They got along easily, and for once, Wonwoo felt like his chest wasn’t as heavy.

That illusion cracked when he stepped out of class one afternoon and saw Mingyu waiting by the door.

Wonwoo’s pulse jumped. His first instinct was to slip past, pretend he didn’t notice. But Mingyu’s voice rang out before he could try.

“Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo forced a startled expression as he turned. “Oh, Mingyu. Didn’t see you there.”

Of course he did. He always did.

Mingyu smiled, a little sheepish, a little too bright. “Come with me? Just a quick walk.”

Wonwoo hesitated, then nodded.

“...Alright.”

He didn’t want Mingyu to think he was avoiding him, though that’s exactly what he was doing.

They walked side by side until they reached the park near campus. The late afternoon air was cool, leaves shifting softly with the breeze.

“So…” Mingyu started, glancing at him. “How are you? Feels like I hardly see you these days.”

“I’m doing alright,” Wonwoo replied casually, eyes fixed on the path ahead.

Mingyu nodded, though his gaze lingered. “Good. I mean… sometimes I spot you, from a distance. You’re always with some guy. Who’s he?”

Wonwoo’s shoulders tensed, but he kept his tone even. “Ah, that’s Eunwoo. We’re in the same department. He’s a friend.”

“Oh.” Mingyu’s relief was too obvious. “That’s good. I was worried you might be lonely.”

Wonwoo let out a short, humorless laugh. “Lonely? Mingyu, I don’t mind being alone. And I’m not the same guy I was in high school. I’ve changed. I’m better now.”

Mingyu blinked, taken aback by the sharpness. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m sorry, okay? I was just saying—”

“Whatever.” Wonwoo exhaled, shoulders sagging. “You should focus on your girlfriend instead of worrying about me.”

That made Mingyu falter. His lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. “I’m just trying to be a good friend, Wonwoo. I… I missed you. I want us to hang out again just like before.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I can’t. I’m busy. And honestly, you should stop worrying about me. Just… live your life. Don’t mind me.”

Something flickered in Mingyu’s eyes, confusion, frustration, something else he didn’t name. 

“So that’s it? You don’t wanna be friends anymore?”

Wonwoo’s throat tightened. He forced the words out anyway. “Maybe.”

But inside, he was screaming the opposite.

Mingyu’s frustration broke through, sharper than before. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Don’t say you haven’t because you have. You’re always ‘busy,’ always making excuses.”

Wonwoo’s lips pressed shut. He couldn’t say yes. He couldn’t say no. “I don’t want to talk about this.” He turned, trying to walk away.

But Mingyu grabbed his wrist, holding him in place. His words spilled, raw and unguarded. “So what, you don’t want to be friends anymore because you’ve got new ones? Because you’ve got Eunwoo now?”

Wonwoo spun back to him, stunned. “What the hell are you talking about, Mingyu? That’s not it.”

Their voices rose, clashing in the stillness of the park. People passing by slowed, curious glances darting their way, but neither noticed.

Mingyu let go suddenly, dragging a hand through his hair like he was trying to push down the storm inside him. “This isn’t over. You can’t just decide we’re not friends anymore. I won’t let you push me out like that.”

Wonwoo’s chest tightened, his throat raw from holding everything in. He looked at Mingyu for a long moment, then spoke, his voice steady but heavy.

“Maybe we should just live our own lives, Mingyu. We’re growing apart, and you know that.”

Mingyu blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice sharp but unsteady.

Wonwoo looked away, forcing down the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t me who pulled away first. It was you. You got too busy, too wrapped up in your own world… and I just learned how to live without being part of it.”

The words stung as they left his mouth, but he didn’t take them back.

“You have your own world now,” he continued quietly, “and I… I want to have my own too.”

The silence that followed felt unbearable. Mingyu’s jaw tightened, his brows furrowing, but Wonwoo refused to meet his gaze.

“…So don’t put the blame on me,” Wonwoo added, softer now but still firm. “I’m just… trying to catch up with the distance you already put between us.”

Before Mingyu could respond, Wonwoo turned and walked away, every step heavier than the last. Behind him, he could feel Mingyu’s gaze burning into his back, but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

Every beat of his heart ached, but this was the truth. And maybe, finally, Mingyu would understand.

Chapter Text

Wonwoo didn’t hear from Mingyu after that.

Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, regret crept in. He replayed every word he said, wondered if he’d been too harsh, too cruel. But then he reminded himself that he had to do it. He had to choose himself this time, even if it meant letting Mingyu go.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss him. He missed him all the time. In the mornings when he used to find Mingyu’s texts waiting. In the afternoons when he’d catch himself looking at the empty spot beside him. In the evenings when silence filled the spaces where laughter used to be.

But Mingyu didn’t reach out. He didn’t try to go after him. He didn’t even send a message. And maybe that was his answer.

Maybe Mingyu realized Wonwoo was right, that they had their own lives now, that they were bound to drift apart. Or maybe… maybe Mingyu had already accepted it long before Wonwoo ever said the words.

Maybe Wonwoo just didn’t matter as much to him as he thought he did.

So he tried his best to move forward, to live his days without Mingyu. The ache never fully went away, but he learned to carry it.

Thankfully, Eunwoo was there. His presence wasn’t like Mingyu’s and could never be but it was steady, warm, enough to remind Wonwoo that he wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t the same. It would never be the same.

But at least he still had someone.

Wonwoo settled into a rhythm of quiet solitude. College life became his refuge.

He buried himself in his studies, the hum of the library and the weight of textbooks grounding him in ways nothing else could. Every problem solved, every page read, felt like a small victory, a quiet assertion that he could still control something in his life.

Eunwoo was always there too, he's a constant presence that Wonwoo appreciates a lot. 

They studied together, shared casual meals, laughed at minor jokes, and walked to class side by side.

To Wonwoo, it was simple. Comfortable. Safe. 

So when Eunwoo suddenly confessed, Wonwoo felt like he's about to lose a friend again.

One quiet evening, they sat at their usual café, soft jazz floating through the room. Eunwoo’s fingers toyed with the edge of his cup, and his usual easy smile was absent.

“Wonwoo… there’s something I need to tell you,” he said, his voice low, deliberate.

Wonwoo looked up, slightly puzzled. 

“Hm? What’s up?” 

He leaned forward, unconsciously tucking his own hands into his lap, sensing something in Eunwoo’s tone that didn’t quite fit the usual rhythm between them.

Eunwoo swallowed, then met his eyes.

“I like you. Not just as a friend… I mean, I- I want to date you.”

The words struck Wonwoo with the force of a sudden storm. His chest constricted, heart skipping a beat, mind scrambling. His gaze faltered, focusing on the table, on the faint scratches in the wood, anything to avoid the intensity of Eunwoo’s stare.

"…Wait, what? You… like me?” His voice was quieter than intended, unsure, almost disbelieving.

Eunwoo nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah… I’ve been feeling this for a long time, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. I just… wanted to be honest and tell you. And well, maybe I'd have a chance?”

Wonwoo felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him, surprise, confusion, and guilt. He hadn’t anticipated this at all. Eunwoo had been a friend, a companion, a safe harbor after Mingyu, and he had never imagined seeing him in this light.

"I... I'm sorry, Eunwoo but- I don’t feel the same way,” Wonwoo admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “…I only think of you as a friend.”

Eunwoo’s shoulders slumped slightly, "Oh..."

The disappointment in his eyes was immediate and raw. It wasn’t anger, just the quiet ache of someone who had opened themselves up fully and had been gently refused.

But still he nodded, trying to mask it with a thin smile. “I understand,” he said softly, though his voice betrayed the faint tremor of hurt.

Wonwoo’s chest tightened. He wanted to reach out, to ease the pain he saw there, but he didn’t know how.

Wonwoo offered a weak smile, “I hope we can still be friends,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really like having you around.”

Eunwoo gave a small, almost bitter laugh. “I hope so too,” he said, but Wonwoo could see the truth in his eyes, he knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Slowly, over the following days, Eunwoo began to distance himself. He still smiled, still greeted him, but it wasn't the same as before. 

Wonwoo couldn’t help but think about everything that happened.

First with Mingyu, the one person who had been there for him through everything, the friend who had kept pace with his quiet, awkward ass, the one who had made him feel seen without him ever having to say a word. And he had ruined it. The confrontation, the words he couldn’t take back, the way he had walked away… it all replayed in his mind, a loop he couldn’t escape. He had asked for distance, yes, but in the end, it had felt like he had torn apart something that had once been seamless. Mingyu had given him everything he had ever needed as a friend, as someone who understood him, and now that connection was a fragile, broken thing, suspended in silence.

And then now with Eunwoo, who had been a kind presence, a steady companion in the wake of Mingyu’s absence, someone he had laughed with, studied with, confided in. And now, after that brief, awkward, heart-pounding confession, he was retreating. Eunwoo’s disappointment, quiet and careful, left a heavier weight than any words could. 

Wonwoo realized with a sharp pang that he had done the same thing again, that he had pushed someone important away, this time without even meaning to.

He's starting to to think that maybe he was the problem. Maybe it's all because of his inability to express himself, to hold onto anything or anyone. That maybe it wasn’t the timing, or the circumstances, or even the people around him. It was him.

He had sabotaged the only bond that had ever felt unshakable, and now he was losing the one that could have been something more.

He pulled his knees to his chest and let out a slow, quiet sigh, thinking that perhaps, he was meant to be alone.

And yet, even in that quiet ache, there was a glimmer of something else, a determination to keep going. Though losing his friends hurt, he knew he had to start trying to live for himself, to exist without holding onto what could never be his.

Wonwoo had thrown himself into his studies, immersing in notes, lectures, and assignments to keep his mind busy. If he could stay focused enough, maybe he wouldn’t feel the emptiness so sharply. He moved through campus quietly, keeping to himself, preferring corners and quiet spots where he could be alone.

He ate alone at the cafeteria, tracing the lines on his tray more than paying attention to the people around him. Sometimes he stayed in the library for hours, lost in his books, letting the hum of others studying fade into the background.

But even in these quiet moments, he couldn’t escape the reminders. Mingyu. Sometimes he caught glimpses of him across the cafeteria, laughing with friends, his eyes flicking toward Wonwoo for just a moment. There was something there, a curiosity, maybe concern, that made Wonwoo’s chest tighten. He would eat faster, focused on finishing, and left before Mingyu could approach.

On the campus paths, it was the same. Mingyu surrounded by friends, talking and laughing, while Wonwoo kept to himself, head down, pretending he didn’t notice. Even Eunwoo, who used to be close, had grown distant, keeping company with classmates, offering only polite smiles when their paths crossed.

One afternoon, Wonwoo settled on a bench at the schoold track and field, determined to read in peace. Nearby, some players practiced, their shouts and whistles blending with the sound of the wind across the field.

Then he saw Mingyu coming with some of his team mates maybe? He doesn't know but Mingyu didn’t seem to notice him at first, and Wonwoo relaxed, letting his eyes skim his book.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mingyu looking at him. That same look he couldn’t quite place, and Wonwoo quickly turned back to his pages, forcing himself to concentrate.

After a while, Wonwoo decided to leave. Gathering his bag, he stood, careful to move quickly yet smoothly, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But fate or perhaps irony, had other plans. 

He didn’t notice the ball rolling toward him until it struck the side of his head. Pain shot through him, sharp and sudden. He stumbled, his things falling to the ground, and cursed quietly under his breath.

Mingyu’s voice rang out immediately, sharp with concern, along with surprised sound from his other team mates. 

“I'm fine,” he muttered, trying to steady himself. He scrambled to his feet, forcing a quick pace, wanting to get away from the embarrassment.

But the world tipped sideways. His head felt light, and a sharp sting in his nose made him freeze. He pressed a hand against it, feeling warm blood trickle down. Panic surged through him but he brushed it off.

He tried to take another step, but his body betrayed him. Then, a warm hand caught him before he could fall.

“Hey! Are you okay?!” Mingyu’s voice sounded worried, but Wonwoo, half-conscious, could only slur out, “I’m… fine…”

Mingyu’s eyes widened when he saw the blood trickling from Wonwoo’s nose. “Fuck. You’re bleeding! I’m taking you to the clinic.”

He lifted Wonwoo into his arms, steady and unrelenting. Wonwoo tried to push him away, "H-hey, put me... down."

But Mingyu wouldn’t let go.

"Just stay still,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, as the world around Wonwoo blurred.

Then, finally, his eyelids fluttered shut, and darkness swallowed him.

Wonwoo stirred, his eyelids heavy, and finally opened them. The first thing he noticed was a bright smile beaming at him. A boy in a football uniform sat beside the bed, his sharp features familiar somehow, he must be one of the players from earlier.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the boy said cheerfully.

Wonwoo squinted, still dizzy, and tried to sit up. “I… I should go,” he muttered, attempting to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“No, you can’t,” the boy said gently, but Wonwoo waved him off. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

Just then, the door opened, and Mingyu stepped in. He frowned, eyes narrowing as they landed on Wonwoo.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice low but tense.

Then he turned to the boy beside Wonwoo. “I told you to watch him, Seokmin,” Mingyu said, irritation threading his words.

“I am watching him,” the Seokmin guy defended quickly, “but he’s trying to leave.”

Wonwoo pushed himself up again. “I’m fine. I can go.”

Mingyu moved quickly, gently guiding him back onto the bed. “No, you can’t leave,” he said firmly.

“Why should I listen to you?” Wonwoo shot back, stubbornly.

Mingyu’s jaw tightened. He let out a slow breath, voice calm but serious. “The nurse said you need to rest. That’s what you’re going to do.”

Wonwoo hesitated, stubbornness fading slightly under the weight of Mingyu’s calm authority. He sank back onto the pillows, half-heartedly complying.

Whatever, he still feels dizzy anyway.

Seokmin scratched the back of his neck, looking apologetic. “Sorry… it was me who kicked the ball that hit you.”

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo muttered, more out of habit than forgiveness.

Seokmin nodded. “Don’t worry. I'm gonna take care of you and get you home.”

“You don’t need to,” Wonwoo said automatically, his voice carrying a quiet defensiveness.

Mingyu, holding a small tray of food he had prepared, set it down beside him. “You have to eat,” he said softly.

“I’m not hungry,” Wonwoo mumbled, turning his face away.

“You have to,” Mingyu countered gently but firmly. “So you could take your medicine.”

He leaned forward to help feed Wonwoo, who stubbornly turned his head.

Seokmin, oblivious to the tension, asked, “Would you like me to feed you?”

Mingyu glared at him, and Wonwoo couldn’t help the small, frustrated laugh that escaped. “I can eat by myself,” he said, taking the food from Mingyu.

“Eat carefully. Slowly,” Mingyu instructed, voice softening only slightly. Then, he gestured to Seokmin. “Go get him some water.”

Seokmin left, and the room suddenly felt smaller, almost suffocating. Mingyu remained, watching him, and Wonwoo felt the familiar ache of discomfort.

“You can leave too, you know,” Wonwoo said finally, trying to sound casual.

Mingyu knitted his brows. “I need to take care of you,” he replied simply.

Wonwoo chuckled, forced and hollow. “Now you’re acting like a concerned friend again. After all this time of pretending we’re strangers.”

“I’m just doing what you asked,” Mingyu said evenly. “Don’t try to pin this on me.”

“So stop acting like a worried friend now,” Wonwoo shot back, sharper than intended.

Mingyu’s eyes widened slightly, disbelief and frustration flashing across his face. “I’m not acting. I’m genuinely worried. You should stop acting like a kid.”

“I’m not acting like a kid,” Wonwoo argued. “I never asked you to worry about me.”

“You’re just being stupid right now!” Mingyu snapped, voice tight. “Why are you so adamant about pushing me away? There’s a reason for this, isn’t there?”

Wonwoo froze, unable to respond, his throat tight.

“I’m not going to force it,” Mingyu said after a pause, calming himself but still serious. “I won’t keep asking. But grow up, Wonwoo. Tell me what the real problem is.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. His chest constricted, tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. He ducked his head, trying to hide them. “Please… just leave,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I can’t… I can’t have this conversation right now.”

Mingyu’s expression softened, he nodded slowly, though the concern in his eyes didn’t waver.

“Fine,” he said gently, turning to leave. “But drink the medicine once you're done eating. I left it on the table.”

Wonwoo nodded faintly, looking up slightly and watched Mingyu quietly leave. The door shut with a soft click, leaving him alone with the weight of unspoken words, guilt, and the sharp ache of regret that refused to fade.

He finished his food slowly, forcing down each bite and took the medicine once he's done as Mingyu had instructed. After that, he curled into the sheets again, shutting his eyes tightly, hoping sleep could drown out the heaviness pressing inside him.

Not long after, the door opened, and Seokmin came in with a couple of water bottles.

“Oh, you’re still up,” he said, offering a friendly grin. Seokmin looked around, “Where did Mingyu go?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Not sure. Probably stepped out.”

Seokmin nodded, as he opened a water bottle and handed it over.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo murmured, voice small.

“You want to rest again?”

Wonwoo gave a faint nod. “Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll let you sleep then. I’ll come back later,” Seokmin said, his tone light, before slipping back out.

The silence settled in again. Wonwoo’s lashes grew heavy, and soon he was lost in sleep, his body sinking deeper into the mattress.

When he woke again, there was no sound except for the steady rhythm of breathing close by. He turned his head slightly and Mingyu was there, sitting quietly by his bedside, his arms folded, gaze heavy as if he’d been watching him all along.

Wonwoo shifted upright, careful not to meet his eyes. The dizziness had dulled, but the tension building inside him hadn’t.

“You’re awake,” Mingyu said softly, standing. “Don’t get up too fast. If you feel dizzy, sit back down.”

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo muttered, brushing him off, though his heart skipped at the concern in Mingyu’s tone.

The door opened and the nurse entered, relief flickering across her face. “Oh, you’re awake now. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Wonwoo answered softly. “Am I free to leave?”

“Yes, but,” she gave him a stern look, “you fainted earlier, so you need to rest for the rest of the day. No running, no heavy lifting, and no overexertion. If you feel dizzy, nauseous, or get a headache again, you should be checked right away. Drink plenty of water, eat something light, and avoid staying up too late tonight. Understand?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo said quietly.

“And make sure you don’t go home alone,” the nurse added. “You fainted earlier. Have a friend take you, just in case. Someone should keep an eye on you for today.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll leave you to it,” she said, bowing her head slightly before heading out.

“Thank you,” both Wonwoo and Mingyu said after her, their voices overlapping in awkward unison.

Wonwoo slid out of bed, head lowered, and bent to look for his bag. Before he could reach it, Mingyu was already holding it out.

He froze. That simple gesture, it was something Mingyu used to do all the time, without thinking. His throat tightened.

“...Thanks,” Wonwoo muttered, taking it without looking. His fingers brushed Mingyu’s for a second, and he quickly pulled back.

When Wonwoo started to adjust the strap of his bag, Mingyu reached for it. “I’ll carry it,” he said simply.

“No.”

“You shouldn’t strain yourself.”

“I said no.” His voice was clipped, but beneath it was a sharp tremor. It wasn’t that the bag was heavy, he just couldn’t stand the thought of Mingyu thinking he needed him. If he let Mingyu do it, it would feel like admitting he was still that boy who always leaned on him.

Mingyu frowned. “Don’t be stubborn—”

The door opened just then, and Seokmin came in, cheerful and oblivious. “Oh! You’re up? You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said quickly, almost relieved for the interruption.

“I’ll take you home,” Mingyu interjected immediately.

“No.” Wonwoo’s tone was clipped, final.

“You can’t go alone. Someone needs to watch you,” Mingyu insisted, frustration bleeding into his voice.

Wonwoo turned to Seokmin instead. “Didn’t you say earlier you’d take me home?”

Seokmin blinked, then nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course. I’ll take you.”

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and reached for Wonwoo’s bag, gently taking it from Mingyu’s hold. Mingyu’s grip tightened for a moment before he reluctantly let go, his frustration barely masked.

“Alright then,” Seokmin said, cheerful again, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Wonwoo mumbled a quiet thanks and followed Seokmin out. He didn’t look back at him. He couldn’t. His chest was aching too much already. All he could do was walk out of the room, Seokmin by his side. Mingyu’s presence clung to him, heavy as the words he never said.

The car was quiet for most of the ride. Seokmin kept glancing at him, as if debating whether to say something. Finally, when the traffic slowed at a light, he spoke.

“Hey, uh… Wonwoo,” Seokmin started carefully, “you and Mingyu… do you know each other? You seemed… close? Or, I don’t know, familiar.”

Wonwoo’s chest tightened at the question. He forced out a small laugh, low and dry. “Not really.”

Seokmin raised a brow, not entirely convinced. “Really? The way he acted earlier… it didn’t seem like you were strangers.”

“Why is that?” His voice was steady, but his grip on the strap of his bag gave him away.

Seokmin glanced at him, lips twitching like he’d been waiting for the chance. “Because, honestly, the way Mingyu reacted earlier? Man, I’ve never seen him like that.”

Wonwoo frowned. “What do you mean?”

Seokmin let out a small laugh, throwing one hand up dramatically before settling it back on the wheel. “The moment you passed out, he freaked out so bad, I thought he was gonna throw me across the field. He was yelling at everyone, swearing like, full chaos mode. I was terrified. I mean, thank God he calmed down eventually, but still scary.”

Despite himself, Wonwoo felt his lips twitch. The image of Mingyu running around like that was… strangely easy to picture. “Really…” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Seokmin said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I thought he was gonna strangle me just for kicking the ball.”

Wonwoo turned his face toward the window, watching the blur of passing lights. "We used to be... friends,” he finally admitted, voice low.

“Oh, that explains it” Seokmin said, nodding slowly. He didn’t push further, though his curiosity lingered in the silence.

Wonwoo gripped his bag tighter on his lap, as if anchoring himself. “But that’s over now,” he added, almost like he was reminding himself.

The rest of the drive carried on in quiet, broken only by the hum of the engine. Wonwoo’s thoughts, however, were anything but quiet.

Chapter Text

Wonwoo followed the nurse’s advice and went straight to rest once he got home. He slept on and off, his body still heavy from exhaustion.

Who could possibly be knocking at this hour? He squinted at the clock. 9 p.m.

Dragging himself out of bed, he peeked through the peephole and his breath caught. Mingyu. Standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, his tall frame shifting like he wasn’t sure he should be there.

Wonwoo froze.

Why the hell is Mingyu here?

For a moment, he considered ignoring it, pretend he was still asleep, let Mingyu give up and leave. But guilt pricked at him. It was late, the air outside was cold, and Mingyu was just standing there.

Reluctantly, he opened the door, forcing his expression to stay even, hiding the panic that rushed through him.

“What are you doing here? It’s already late.”

Mingyu scratched the back of his head, looking awkward. “I… was still worried about you. I just wanted to check if you’re okay.” His eyes swept over Wonwoo quickly, searching. “Did you feel dizzy again? Did your nose bleed?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m fine. I was resting, so you don’t have to worry. You should go home.”

But Mingyu didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at him like there was something else he wanted to say but couldn’t get out. The silence stretched until Wonwoo shifted uncomfortably.

“I’ll sleep now,” Wonwoo said at last, moving to close the door.

Mingyu’s hand shot out, stopping it gently.

Wonwoo blinked at him, annoyance flickering across his face. “What?”

Mingyu hesitated, then blurted, “Can I… stay here tonight?”

Wonwoo’s brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m still worried about you,” Mingyu said quickly, his voice earnest, almost pleading. “I want to be here to take care of you.”

Wonwoo stared, caught off guard. His mind flickered back to when they were younger, to the countless times Mingyu would show up at his place whenever he got sick. He’d stay the whole night back then, refusing to leave until Wonwoo was better. The memory tugged at something deep inside him, something he didn’t want to feel.

Shaking the thought away, he muttered, “There’s no need. I can take care of myself just fine.”

But Mingyu wasn’t backing down. He shifted nervously, fumbling for words. “You say that, but… I know you. You’re not even drinking the medicine on time, are you?”

Wonwoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. He wanted to argue, but Mingyu wasn’t wrong.

“I will,” he muttered, though even to his own ears it sounded unconvincing.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “Did you even eat?”

The silence that followed was answer enough. Wonwoo looked away, lips pressing together.

“See?” Mingyu said, frustrated now. “You’re already being stubborn. You always do this.” His voice softened at the end, though, a plea slipping through the cracks. “Please. Just let me stay. I won’t leave knowing you’re like this.”

Wonwoo let out a breath, torn between irritation and something that felt too much like longing. He hated how Mingyu could still do this, barge in, pull down his walls without even trying. He should’ve slammed the door shut. He should’ve told him to go home.

Wonwoo muttered, “I’m not hungry.”

Mingyu let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. He was clearly trying to rein himself in, but his voice still came out tight.

“Wonwoo… please.”

Wonwoo’s chest tightened at the word. Stubbornness itched on his tongue, but he knew Mingyu, once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t stop. And right now, he looked so damn serious.

With a reluctant sigh, Wonwoo finally nodded.

“…Fine." He muttered at last, stepping back to let him in. “But don’t expect me to entertain you.”

Mingyu’s lips curved into the faintest smile of relief. “I won’t.”

Wonwoo turned away quickly, hiding the way his chest ached at the sight.

When Mingyu said he’d cook, Wonwoo just nodded weakly and left him in the kitchen. He wasn’t in the mood to watch him move around his space so naturally, like he still belonged there. Instead, he dragged himself back to bed, pulling the blanket over his head. The soft clatter of pans and the faint smell of oil reached him, but he shut his eyes tighter, willing himself to sleep.

He didn’t know how long had passed before he felt someone shaking his shoulder.

“Wonwoo. Hey, wake up.”

He groaned, blinking blearily until Mingyu’s face came into focus. “What now…”

“You should eat now.” Mingyu’s voice was gentle but firm, leaving no room for refusal.

Wonwoo sat up reluctantly, following him to the small table. On it were two steaming bowls of ramen and a plate of kimchi fried rice. His chest tightened the second he saw it. It was his favorite.

The table was quiet except for the soft clink of chopsticks. Wonwoo kept his gaze low, focusing on his food. Across from him, Mingyu ate slowly, eyes flicking to him every so often. The silence stretched for minutes, heavy but strangely familiar, like the quiet they used to share.

Then Mingyu spoke, breaking it. “Do you… like it?”

Wonwoo paused briefly, then nodded. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Mingyu leaned back a little, almost smiling. “Good. I made this because I know you like it. And… well, it’s the only thing I could find in your kitchen.” He gave a small laugh, though there was a tenderness in his eyes. “You should really buy other food. Vegetables, at least.”

Wonwoo scoffed quietly, picking at the fried rice. “I don’t even cook.”

“Then I can cook for you.” Mingyu said immediately, like it was obvious.

Wonwoo’s sigh came out sharper than he intended. He set his chopsticks down, finally looking at him. “Can you please stop this?”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed. “Stop what?”

“Stop acting like we’re okay. Like we’re still the same as before,” Wonwoo snapped, his voice laced with frustration. “You know so damn well we’re not.”

Mingyu blinked, taken aback. For a second, neither of them moved. Then his jaw tightened. “And you know we became like this because you kept pushing me away.”

Wonwoo stood, picking up his half-finished plate and walking it to the sink, needing distance. Mingyu followed after him.

“And now you’re avoiding it again,” Mingyu said firmly, frustration seeping in. “Seriously, Wonwoo, just tell me what happened. What did I do?”

Wonwoo’s head shook slowly, his back turned. He didn’t answer.

Then suddenly, he felt it, Mingyu’s arms wrapping around him from behind. His body stiffened in shock.

“I missed you,” Mingyu whispered, his voice low and aching.

Wonwoo’s heart twisted violently. He gripped Mingyu’s forearms, trying to pry them off. “What are you doing? Stop that.”

Eventually, Mingyu loosened his hold, stepping back. Wonwoo spun around, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, anger flaring to cover his vulnerability.

“Can we just go back?” Mingyu asked, voice low, pleading. “Back to how we were before. Be friends again.”

That broke something in Wonwoo. He brushed past him, heading toward his room, but Mingyu caught his arm.

“Fucking stop, Mingyu!” Wonwoo snapped, chest heaving. His voice cracked, but he didn’t care.

“Don’t you still fucking get it? I don’t want us to be friends!”

Mingyu’s grip tightened. His own voice rose, desperate. “Why? Tell me!”

Wonwoo’s eyes burned as he finally spat it out. “Because I don’t want us to be just fucking friends!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Wonwoo turned his face away, tears slipping down as he wiped them with the back of his hand.

“What?” Mingyu whispered, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Go,” Wonwoo said hoarsely. He refused to meet his eyes.

Mingyu stepped closer, shaking his head. “No. Explain to me what you just said.”

“You know what I said,” Wonwoo whispered, voice breaking. “And now I want you to go.”

He shoved Mingyu toward the door, ignoring the way Mingyu tried to resist.

“Don’t do this. Let me understand you,” Mingyu pleaded, bracing himself against the frame.

But Wonwoo’s strength was fueled by pain. He pushed harder, the finality in his voice cutting sharp. “Don’t come here again.”

The door slammed shut between them, but almost immediately, Mingyu’s voice came through, muffled but urgent.

“Wonwoo!” Mingyu’s tone was desperate. “What do you mean by that? What you just said, let’s talk about it!”

Wonwoo stood frozen, his hand still gripping the knob, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Don’t shut me out like this,” Mingyu pleaded. “You said you don’t want us to be just friends, what does that mean? Tell me, please.”

Tears burned in Wonwoo’s eyes, spilling before he could stop them. His throat tightened, and for a long moment he couldn’t speak. Then, in a voice hoarse and broken, he forced the words out.

“Just… go away, Mingyu.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me,” Mingyu pressed on, his voice breaking at the edges. “Please… let me understand.”

Wonwoo shut his eyes tight, nails digging into his palm. He didn’t need to see Mingyu to know what he looked like out there.

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu tried again, softer this time. “I just… I just want you back.”

The words cut deep. Wonwoo bit the inside of his cheek so hard it hurt, but he stayed silent. If he opened his mouth now, if he let himself slip even once, everything he’d been holding back would come spilling out.

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu called again, softer this time, almost breaking. “Just open the door. I’m not mad. I just– I need to hear it from you. I need you to be clear.”

“I can’t do this,” he whispered to himself, though he wasn’t sure if Mingyu could hear.

“Please, just fucking go…”

A heavy silence stretched. Then came the faint sound of a thud, like Mingyu leaning his weight against the door. For a moment, Wonwoo thought he might really stay there all night.

But eventually, there was a long, shaky sigh, followed by the slow shuffle of footsteps retreating down the hall. Each one grew fainter until all that was left was the hollow quiet pressing in on him from every side.

Wonwoo sank to the floor. His chest heaved as the tears he’d been holding back spilled freely at last. He buried his face into his hands, muffling the sobs that tore out of him.

It hurt. God, it hurt.

He hated himself for shutting Mingyu out. He hated Mingyu for still having this power over him. And most of all, he hated the truth that had slipped out, that he didn’t want them to be just friends.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. Sleep had done nothing for him. His body felt heavy, his chest even heavier. He lay still for a while, eyes pressed shut against the light, before finally dragging himself out of bed.

There was no way he could sit through lectures like this. He sent a quick message to his professors, saying he wasn’t feeling well and would be absent for the day. After swallowing some water and painkillers, he made his way to the clinic.

The check-up didn’t take long. The doctor told him it was most likely stress and lack of sleep, reminding him to rest properly, eat on time, and not overwork himself. Wonwoo just nodded, taking the prescription with him, though he wasn’t sure he’d even bother to get it filled.

Instead of going back to his apartment, he found himself on the bus to his parents’ house. He told himself it was just for a visit, but deep down, he knew he wanted the comfort of being somewhere that didn’t feel so heavy.

His mother fussed over him the moment he stepped inside, asking if he’d been eating right. His father joked that he looked like a zombie from studying too much. Wonwoo smiled faintly, letting their voices wash over him. For a while, it was easy to just sit there, to pretend things were simple again.

Still, no matter how much he tried, fragments of last night kept slipping back into his head. Wonwoo forced himself to push it aside. It was over. There was no point holding onto it.

Because even if Mingyu didn’t hate him for what he said, even if he tried to understand, it wouldn’t change the fact that he already had someone else. That alone was enough to remind Wonwoo he never really stood a chance.

So he stayed quiet, telling himself he just needed to move on. Even if it meant carrying the weight of regret by himself.

Chapter Text

Wonwoo ended up staying at his parents’ house for two nights. It was the weekend anyway, and being there felt easier than going back to his empty apartment. His mom made him his favorite soup, his dad teased him about finally taking a break from school, and for a while, he let himself pretend everything was fine.

By Monday morning, he decided it was time to go home. He packed up slowly, said his goodbyes, and caught the bus back to the city. The ride was quiet, the soft hum of the engine almost lulling him to sleep.

Out of habit, he reached for his phone. He hadn’t bothered checking it for the past three days, he figured there was nothing important waiting for him anyway. But when he finally turned it on, his chest tightened.

The screen lit up with a flood of notifications, missed calls, unread messages. All from Mingyu.

His thumb hovered over the screen as he scrolled through them.

Where are you?

Please text me back.

I’m getting worried.

Wonwoo’s stomach sank. He stared at the messages, unsure what to feel. Guilt crept in, mixing with the ache he’d been trying so hard to ignore. He didn’t expect Mingyu to reach out, not after what he’d said, not after how everything ended.

He locked the phone and stared out the window, watching the scenery blur past. The weight in his chest pressed heavier, but he told himself to let it be. Mingyu worrying didn’t change anything.

After that, Mingyu stopped calling.

Wonwoo hadn’t seen or heard from him since then.

Maybe Mingyu had finally gotten tired too.

And maybe, that was the answer Wonwoo had been waiting for, a sign that it was time to finally, truly, let go.

He told himself he would try.

But one night, Mingyu showed up at his door.

He was drunk.

“Wonwoo-ya,” Mingyu called as soon as the door opened, a sloppy smile spreading across his face as he swayed on his feet.

He reeked of alcohol, and his flushed cheeks made it obvious just how drunk he was.

“What are you doing here like this?” Wonwoo asked, frowning.

Mingyu only mumbled, “I missed you. I just… wanted to see you,” before wrapping his arms tightly around Wonwoo.

“Mingyu, let go,” Wonwoo said, trying to pry himself free, but Mingyu’s grip was firm, too strong.

He sighed, torn between frustration and concern. Mingyu clearly couldn’t go home in this state. “Fine,” he said quietly. “You can stay here tonight. On the couch.”

Mingyu nodded weakly, still clinging to him until Wonwoo guided him to sit down.

Wonwoo turned toward the kitchen to get him some water, but before he could take a step, Mingyu grabbed his wrist, hard enough to pull him off balance. Wonwoo stumbled forward and landed right on Mingyu’s lap.

“Mingyu–” he started, but the man’s arms came up again, caging him in place.

“I missed you, Wonwoo,” Mingyu murmured, his eyes heavy but sincere.

Wonwoo’s chest tightened. He tried to move, to say something, but his body froze when Mingyu’s face came closer.

“Mingyu, stop–”

But before the words left his mouth, he felt it.

A soft, brief pressure against his lips.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened. Mingyu’s eyes were closed.

He’s kissing me.

His best friend.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo whispered as he pulled away, his heart pounding. “What are you doing?”

Mingyu looked at him through half-lidded eyes, his expression unreadable.

Before Wonwoo could move again, Mingyu’s hand rose to the back of his neck, pulling him in once more.

This time, the kiss was deeper, desperate.

Wonwoo wanted to push him away, to tell him to stop.

But somewhere inside, something gave in.

The longing he’d buried for years surfaced all at once.

So he kissed him back.

The kiss deepened. Their lips moved like they were searching for something neither could name.

Mingyu’s hand found its way to Wonwoo’s waist, sliding up slowly until his fingertips brushed warm skin beneath the fabric. Wonwoo’s breath caught, but he didn’t stop him. His heart was pounding too fast, too loud, drowning out reason.

He knew he shouldn’t be letting this happen. He knew this wasn’t right. But after years of wanting, missing, and pretending, the feeling of Mingyu this close made his thoughts crumble.

When they pulled apart, both were breathing hard, foreheads nearly touching, air thick between them. Mingyu’s hand stayed where it was, holding Wonwoo as if afraid to let go.

Neither spoke. For a while, it was just the sound of their uneven breaths filling the room. Then Mingyu leaned in again, kissing him softer this time, lips tracing along his jaw before finding the curve of his neck.

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly without meaning to, his fingers clutching at Mingyu’s shoulders. His body responded before his mind could catch up.

And then, all at once, the guilt hit him.

The truth hit him.

This isn’t right.

He flinched when Mingyu’s teeth grazed his skin, pushing him back a little. “Mingyu,” he whispered, voice shaky. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Mingyu looked at him, his head tilting. “Why not?” he asked, trying to pull him close again.

Wonwoo shook his head. “Because… this isn’t right.”

“Don’t you want this?”

Wonwoo’s throat tightened. “Of course I do,” he admitted, voice barely audible. “But not like this. Not when you’re drunk. Not when you still have–”

Mingyu interrupted, laughing quietly, his tone bitter and slurred. “We broke up,” he said. “She’s gone. There’s nothing wrong with this anymore.”

Wonwoo froze.

For a second, everything inside him went still.

So that’s what this was. That’s why Mingyu came here tonight.

His chest ached as the realization sank in. Mingyu wasn’t here because of him. He was here because he was heartbroken.

Wonwoo let out a weak laugh, tears welling up. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “You came here because you’re hurting… because you just needed someone.”

Mingyu frowned, confused. “That’s not–”

“You’re cruel, Mingyu,” Wonwoo said, standing up, his voice breaking. “You came here to use me.”

Mingyu stood up, reaching out as if to hold him again, but Wonwoo stepped back immediately. His expression was unreadable, voice steady despite the tremor in his chest.

“Okay,” he said quietly, exhaling. “I won’t ask you to leave. You can stay here until morning… then go.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked to his room.

Mingyu didn’t follow. He just stood there, silent and dazed, too drunk, or maybe too lost, to process what had just happened.

Wonwoo, meanwhile, sat at the edge of his bed for a long time, his thoughts a blur. The warmth of Mingyu’s touch still lingered on his skin, and that alone made his chest twist painfully.

He buried his face in his pillow, muffling the sound of his shaky breaths. He hated how much it still hurt, how much he still cared.

After a while, he sat up, staring blankly at the floor. He couldn’t stay here tonight. Not with Mingyu sleeping just a few steps away, not with his heart still pounding from something that should never have happened.

So he made up his mind.

He grabbed his school bag, threw in a change of clothes, his phone, and wallet. He didn’t even bother turning off the lights.

He left quietly, careful not to wake up Mingyu’s sleeping form on the couch.

He didn’t know where he was going, he just knew he couldn’t stay.

Wonwoo was on his way to the library when a familiar voice called his name.

He froze for a moment before turning his head. Mingyu was there, standing a few steps away, looking hesitant.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything. He just turned back around and started walking again.

But Mingyu caught up quickly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in a quieter area behind one of the university buildings, where hardly anyone passed by.

Wonwoo frowned, yanking his hand free.

“What is it again?” Wonwoo asked flatly, his patience already thin.

Mingyu shifted on his feet, clearly nervous. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For what happened last night.”

Wonwoo exhaled heavily, rolling his eyes. “Well, what's done is done.”

But Mingyu pressed on. “It’s true that my girlfriend and I broke up. So you don’t have to feel guilty about what happened. About… kissing me back.”

“Stop,” Wonwoo cut in sharply.

Mingyu blinked, confused, as Wonwoo met his gaze, his expression calm but firm.

“Listen,” Wonwoo said, voice low but steady. “I get it. You’re probably just trying to distract yourself from the breakup. But I refuse to be part of that, Mingyu.”

“I wasn’t using you,” Mingyu said quickly, his voice rising a little, desperate to explain.

“Then please,” Wonwoo interrupted again, this time softer, almost pleading. “Stop coming to me. If you still respect me, even just as your friend, please stop.”

Mingyu’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

“I’ve already been through enough because of you,” Wonwoo continued, his voice trembling just slightly. “I’m not saying it’s all your fault, but right now… you’re the one hurting me again. So I need a break. From you. From everything.”

Silence fell between them. Mingyu looked at him for a long moment, eyes clouded with guilt and something deeper he couldn’t name. His jaw tightened before he finally nodded.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want. I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I promise… I won’t bother you again.”

Wonwoo’s chest ached at the words, but he managed a small nod. “Goodbye, Mingyu.”

He turned and walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last.

He didn’t know why, but it felt like he was walking away from everything they had.

Chapter Text

Perhaps he was right.

Because after that day, Mingyu never bothered him again. Even when they happened to pass by each other on campus, he never greeted Wonwoo, didn’t even look his way.

And it really felt like they've became strangers.

There was a sting in Wonwoo’s chest every time it happened, but he told himself this was better. Maybe this was how it should be, maybe this way, he could finally let go of everything.

He began to think that perhaps Mingyu was just one of those people who come into your life to teach you something, but not to stay forever.

Wonwoo was grateful for everything they’d shared, but he knew that real growth might come only when they were apart.

When graduation came, they exchanged nothing more than a short smile and a quiet “congratulations” before walking their separate ways.

Funny, he thought, how things could change so fast, how someone who once meant everything could become just another face in the crowd.

⋆˚꩜｡

His life after college unfolded slowly, steadily, the kind of life that doesn’t surprise you, just continues.

Wonwoo was now working as a software engineer at a growing firm in Seoul. The office was bright, with clean desks and big windows, but always a little colder than it needed to be. He had a personal mug on his desk and a plant that he watered once a week. That was about all the decoration.

He typed most of the day, reviewing code and fixing bugs. The office was filled with keyboard clicks, low voices, and occasional laughter from the far side of the room, the side he never quite joined.

“Wonwoo.” Jun, the junior dev across from him, pushed his chair closer. “Your module passed testing on the first run again. How do you do that? Seriously.”

Wonwoo blinked, pulled out of thought. “Uh… just did the test cases thoroughly.”

Jun grinned like that answer was unacceptable. “No, you’re just good.”

Wonwoo gave a small laugh, “Right. Sure.”

Jun talked easily, filled space comfortably. Wonwoo answered when needed but rarely added more. Not because he disliked anyone. He just felt… slightly outside everything. Like the world was happening a few steps ahead of him and he was quietly following behind.

At lunchtime, when the team went out to eat, Jun asked, “Wonwoo, join us?”

Wonwoo smiled, gentle but firm. “Maybe next time.”

And everyone knew next time rarely meant soon.

Later that evening, Wonwoo stepped out of the office building, the sky already dark. The city lights reflected on the pavement, neon signs blinking against the glass windows of passing buses. He pulled his coat a bit tighter, autumn was creeping in.

He crossed the street toward the convenience store near his apartment. It's a studio apartment ten minutes from the office. It was clean, minimal and quiet since he live alone. He cooked for himself, paid his bills, sometimes watched a movie before bed. Weekends were for laundry, grocery runs, occasionally visiting his parents when time allowed.

He was living the life he had once imagined for himself. But every now and then, there was that small feeling, the sense that something was missing, but he couldn’t name what.

The bell chimed as he entered, cold air replaced with the scent of instant ramen and brewed coffee. He's thinking of buying something light for dinner because he didn’t feel like cooking. He was browsing the aisles slowly, fingers gliding along familiar packaging when someone tapped his shoulder.

“Wonwoo?”

He turned and froze for half a second.

The man stood there, smiling in that easy, warm way he always did back in college days. His hair was styled neatly, wearing a button-up shirt and slacks, he looked really nice.

“…Eunwoo?” Wonwoo blinked, surprised. “Hey. Wow. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Eunwoo laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “A long while.”

There wasn’t any awkwardness, just that soft kind of surprise that feels almost comforting. They moved to the chairs to avoid blocking the space, and Eunwoo asked how he had been. Wonwoo answered simply, mentioning work, the usual day-to-day. Eunwoo shared that he was working too and had been in a relationship with someone from work.

“That’s great,” Wonwoo said genuinely. “Really. I’m happy for you.”

Eunwoo’s smile grew a little shy at that. Then he hesitated, like he was thinking how to bring something up.

“Actually… I’ve been meaning to reach out, but I didn’t know if your number was still the same,” he said. “I, uh… I’m getting engaged.”

Wonwoo blinked in surprise. “Engaged?”

“Yeah.” Eunwoo let out a breathy laugh, “We’re having a small engagement party next month. Nothing fancy, just families and some friends. I was thinking… it’d be good if you came.” He looked at Wonwoo directly. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said instantly. “I’d like to. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks,” Eunwoo said, smiling wider now. “I know we haven’t really talked much these past years, but… you were still one of the good memories. So… yeah. It would mean something if you were there.”

Wonwoo’s chest tightened, “Of course.”

It felt nice, being remembered. Being wanted somewhere.

They parted ways soon after.

Wonwoo walked home with the small bag in his hand.

After all this time, he realized that life truly didn’t stop. It kept moving.

People grew up, found places to belong, found people to stay with.

And that gave him a glimmer of hope, that maybe, someday, he'll also find someone that will stay with him permanently.

The engagement party wasn’t anything extravagant, just like Eunwoo said. It was held in a small function room at a café-restaurant, warm lights, simple white flowers on each table, soft music playing in the background. 

Wonwoo arrived a little early, partly because he didn’t want to walk in when everyone was already settled.

When Eunwoo saw him, his expression brightened and walked over him.

“You came,” Eunwoo said, a bit out of breath like he’d been moving around a lot.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Eunwoo chuckled. “I’m glad. Really. Let me just grab some drinks and I’ll introduce you to some people. Make yourself comfortable?”

“Sure,” Wonwoo nodded, and Eunwoo went off to greet other guests.

Wonwoo chose a quiet spot near the wall. 

He watched people around him, some taking pictures, others chatting in small groups.  

Eunwoo came back after a few minutes, holding two glasses, one iced tea, one something that looked like fruit punch. He offered them both for Wonwoo to choose.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo said, taking the iced tea.

“Come,” Eunwoo motioned, “there’s someone I want you to meet.”

They walked toward a woman arranging name cards near the table. She glanced up when she noticed them approaching.

“Yunjin,” Eunwoo called gently. “This is Wonwoo, the friend I told you about. We used to be classmates.”

Her face brightened.

“Oh! You’re Wonwoo,” she said, like she had heard about him more than once. She wiped her hands on her dress lightly before offering one. “I’m Yunjin. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Wonwoo shook her hand, polite and warm. “Nice to meet you, too. Congratulations to both of you.”

Yunjin laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. Eunwoo says alot about his college days, I feel like I know his whole classroom already.”

Wonwoo raised a brow at Eunwoo playfully. “Hopefully all good things?”

Eunwoo coughed dramatically. “I have an image to maintain, you know.”

Yunjin lightly nudged him with her elbow. “He said you used to help him study when he was falling behind in Prof. Kang’s class. So thank you, I guess. If not for that, he’d probably still be stuck repeating that course.”

Eunwoo looked betrayed. “That's not true.”

Wonwoo chuckled, the sound escaping before he thought about it. 

“He surely struggled a lot,” Wonwoo said, trying to ride along with her.

Yunjin laughed again, this time fuller.

Eunwoo groaned. “Okay, okay. Enough team-up bullying.”

Yunjin touched Eunwoo’s arm again, gentle. “I’ll go check on the desserts. You two catch up, okay?”

“Okay,” Eunwoo said, watching her walk away and the affection in his eyes was unmistakable.

Wonwoo saw it. And he felt… genuinely happy. 

“You look so in love,” Wonwoo said quietly. 

Eunwoo exhaled, almost like he heard the real meaning behind it. “Yeah. I think… she's just really wonderful.”

Wonwoo nodded, eyes soft. “Yeah, she is. You got lucky.”

They talked more after that, just catching up a little bit more.

Soon, Eunwoo was pulled away by one of his relatives, leaving Wonwoo standing near the edge of the venue with a glass of something he barely tasted. He took a small breath, letting his eyes wander around the place, warm lights, soft laughter, clinking glasses. Everyone seemed to be catching up, reconnecting, celebrating.

Wonwoo didn’t realize someone had come close until a voice spoke right beside him.

“Wonwoo?”

He turned, blinking once.

“Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung broke into a wide grin. “No way. You’re actually here.”

Wonwoo let out a small laugh, surprised. “I–yeah. Didn’t know you’d be here too.”

“Oh, that’s because the bride is my cousin,” Soonyoung said, jerking his thumb toward the woman Eunwoo had just introduced earlier. 

Wonwoo’s brows lifted. “Seriously? Small world.”

“Right?” Soonyoung laughed. “I saw you from across the room, but I wasn’t sure at first. You look… different.”

“Older?” Wonwoo teased.

“Tired,” Soonyoung corrected, smirking.

Wonwoo snorted. “That’s also true.”

They talked for a bit.

Then, casually, Soonyoung snapped his fingers.

“Ah! before I forget. We’re actually having a small reunion soon. Just our middle school batch. Nothing big. Mostly just dinner and catching up.”

Wonwoo looked up, a little curious. “Really? When?”

“A week from now,” Soonyoung said. “Everyone’s free since it’s the weekend. It’d be nice if you came. I haven’t seen half of our classmates in forever.”

Wonwoo considered it.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think I can go.”

Soonyoung’s face lit up. “Great. I’ll send you the group chat link.”

“Oh and Mingyu will be there too,” he added, like it was just another piece of information. “I think he confirmed yesterday.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “I see.”

When Soonyoung walked off to greet someone else, Wonwoo stayed where he was, fingers brushing the rim of his glass. The name lingered in his head longer than it should have.

Mingyu.

He hadn’t heard it out loud in so long that it almost sounded foreign, like a word that lost its shape after being left untouched for years.

Something inside him stirred, a small twist in his chest that felt too familiar to mistake. It wasn’t quite dread, but it wasn’t excitement either. Just… something caught between the two.

He let out a quiet breath.

Why did it even matter?

It wasn’t like they were the same people anymore. They’d both grown up, built lives, learned to move forward. Mingyu probably didn’t even think about him anymore. 

So why did the thought of seeing him again make his stomach tighten?

Wonwoo tried to brush it off, straightening his back as if good posture could keep stray feelings in line. It’s fine, he told himself. It’s just a reunion. Just old classmates catching up over dinner. Nothing more.

Still… his mind betrayed him.

He found himself wondering what Mingyu looked like now, if he still had that habit of rumbling when he was nervous. He wondered if he was happy. If life had been kind to him.

Wonwoo took a sip from his glass, letting the noise of the room swallow the rest of his thoughts.

He shouldn’t feel this way, he knew. But the quiet thrum beneath his ribs said otherwise.

Anticipation, fear, whatever it was, it refused to settle.

Maybe he just needed to see Mingyu once to know for sure that everything really was in the past.

That would be enough.

Wouldn’t it?