𝐝𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐥. yeonji

십팔 (𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧)

𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐣𝐢

"I never knew you and Minho hyung were close?" Yeonjun asked as he adjusted himself, positioning my legs on his lap. His careful touch sent little tingles through my skin and up my spine.

We were in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light around us. My legs were draped casually over his lap, a position that had become familiar and comfortable over the years of our friendship. It felt too intimate for two people who only see each other as friends, yet it was a distance that felt safe—safe from the confusing tangle of emotions I had once harbored for him.

Clearing my throat to dispel the rising awkwardness, I replied, "That's because we're not." I tried to move, but his hands held my legs firmly in place, as if he wanted me to stay still. He seems perfectly comfortable with the proximity.

"But you and Felix have known each other the longest. Surely you've had chances to be close with him, right?" His face looked curious. There was a hint of expression in his face that I couldn't seem to put my finger on. I nodded slowly, not at his question, but at the feeling of his fingers making small circles on my skin. It was numbing, making me feel light-headed.

"Stop that. And no, I never really saw him that much whenever I visited Felix at his home."

He hummed in response but didn't stop his small, relentless action. He looks like he's deep in his thoughts. So I asked, "What are you thinking?"

He was about to say something but stopped and shook his head. "Nothing." His expression was distant, especially when he looked down at his fingers pressing lightly on my skin.

A longer lock of his black hair fell across his face, partially obscuring his intense, foxy eyes, which seemed to gleam beneath his long, dark eyelashes.

Unable to stop myself, I reached out my hand and brushed it aside. The action caught his attention. His eyes instantly flickered up to meet mine, the distant look replaced by a steadily growing intensity. The air between us seemed to thickened, laden with unspoken words as heavy as the tension that wasn't even present just a moment ago.

The atmosphere reminded me of our shared history together. A history that neither one of us dared to acknowledge.

I used to like Yeonjun. We were so close back then. Him and I. But time and distance had dulled those emotions. Or so I thought. Yet, sitting here with him, feeling the warmth of his touch and the weight of his gaze, I could feel old sensations stirring within me, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls I had built around my heart.

"Do you remember Ji-min?" I blurted out, desperate to break the tensioned silence that enveloped us. Yeonjun's ex-girlfriend. The mere mention of her name brought a shadow to his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of pain that he quickly masked with what seemed like a practiced smile. His cold and harsh smile that looks warm and inviting at first glance. The kind of smile meant for strangers.

"Yeah, of course," he replied, his voice tight with restraint. "Why do you ask?" I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"That day. You were so happy when she said yes to you."

"I was," he admitted, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my legs again. "But things change, you know? So do people."

I nodded, though my mind was reeling with questions I was too afraid to voice. Was I even allowed to ask him these things? We were friends, yes, but so much time has passed since we last saw each other. I doubted he still viewed our relationship the same way.

We have both changed so much that we can no longer be the same people we once were. And yet, here we are, as if nothing has changed at all.

"Yeonjun," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "do you miss her?"

His gaze once again flickered to mine, a flicker of an unfamiliar intensity clouding his features before he quickly masked it with indifference. "I don't," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. "We—I broke up with her."

I blinked in confusion. "But you were the one who asked her out. So, why did you?" I moved away and sat beside him, leaving a small distance between us.

Yeonjun sighed, leaning back against the couch. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the errant lock that had fallen into his eyes. "It's complicated, Yeji. Some things just aren't meant to be, no matter how you want them to be," he said softly, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and something else I couldn't quite place.

I frowned, trying to decipher the layers of meaning in his words. "Complicated how? Did something happen between you two?"

He hesitated, the silence stretching between us like a taut string ready to snap. "Yes and no," he finally said, his voice heavy with an unknown yet familiar emotion. "We just... grew apart."

I bit my lip, feeling a pang of guilt for pushing him on a subject that was clearly painful. But there was a part of me that needed to understand, needed to know why their relationship had ended so abruptly.

I nodded, sensing there was more he wasn't saying. "I get that," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. "People change, feelings change."

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the same unfamiliar look there. "Exactly," he murmured. "And sometimes, you realize that what you thought you wanted isn't what you actually need."

We sat there in silence, the weight of his words settling over us like a blanket. I could feel the tension in his body, the unspoken pain that he carried with him. And I wished, more than anything, that I could take it away just to make things easier for him.

But some things were beyond my control. All I could do was be there for him, as I always had been in the past. As I always would be.

"Yeonjun," I said softly, my voice barely more than a breath.

"You know you can talk to me, right? About anything."

He nodded, his hand squeezing my right hand gently. "I know, Yeji. Thank you." I smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "That's what friends are for." He looked at me then, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions that I couldn't quite decipher.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Friends."