It was only when she got inside his car that she realized that they were back to where they started.
It was New Year again and just like that day 2 years ago, Jin took her home because of Yongsun's request, the latter completely oblivious of the—Relationship? Agreement? Involvement? Weeks later, Byulyi still wasn't sure—that transpired between the two.
Only the low hum of the car can be heard as it zoomed past city lights and buildings. Byulyi fidgeted in her seat, glaring holes at the window of Jin's car, ignoring the way her breathing seemed to be magnified by the ringing stillness surrounding them.
It had been weeks since they last talked and the air buzzed with an awkward tension. Byulyi didn't want to speak, not like she could force herself to without bursting into tears, and Jin seemed like he was too afraid to say something.
'Like he always does,' she thought with a frown.
When did they start running out of things to say? For years they've talked and laughed; and when words weren't enough, they would be simply content with each other's presence. They used to stay up until midnight so that they could listen to one more story, one more song, one more minute of silence.
Just one more.
What happened to them?
From the very start, she knew they weren't going to last. They were unstable and ambiguous. Jin was reluctant and she expected more than what he could give.
It was always her that reached out and always leaned in while he only kissed back. She felt undesired at first, that maybe Jin didn't take—whatever it was between them—seriously as she did.
But then she noticed how quickly he would respond to everything. As if he had been watching his phone for hours, waiting for her text; as if he was stiffly standing on the counter just so that he could melt into her embrace when she eventually wraps her arms around him; as if he had been staring intently at her for hours, waiting, anticipating, silently hoping she would kiss him because god forbid he would kiss her first.
As if every time he was with her, all he did was wait and wait and wait because he was afraid.
So yes, she knew they weren't going to be forever.
And yet she clung onto the sliver of hope that they would.
The car slowed to a stop in front of a familiar building. It took her a while to realize that it was her apartment complex. She almost didn't recognize it with the darkness of the early morning accompanied by the persistent thoughts occupying inside her brain.
Her pulse was irritatingly loud in her ear as she unbuckled her seat with a heavy hand. The silence choked her as she opened the door. The cold midnight air felt cold as it hit her face. Stepping out of the car, she slammed the door behind her just as a shuddered breath escaped her lips in puffs of white smoke.
It felt like that night in his apartment again. Her footsteps were heavy and reluctant yet her body was stiff and resolute. She felt unbelievably cold and numb despite the layers of clothing on her body, the chill seemingly originating from within her bones.
He wasn't looking at her too as she walked away, his gaze absolutely fixed on a point at a distance as he sat in silence in his car, gripping the steering wheel so hard his fist visibly shook.
Always waiting and waiting and waiting.
It was fine. She knew that he wouldn't do anything. She didn't want to admit it, but she waited for days for his call. Or his text. Or his email. Or anything to be honest. Only to receive nothing from him.
