ephemera 一 baek dohwa.

iii

Until it doesn't.

Until he realises that Su-ae has only ever viewed him as a close friend and that he’s unwittingly been led on all this time, deluding himself in the process.

The girl's seat has been taken up by an elderly man today.

She walks up to Dohwa’s row, slipping with a practised ease into the seat next to him.

Contrary to usual, he takes the time to stare at her a little. He's desperate to find anything to occupy his mind with so that it'll alleviate the crushing pain inside his chest.

The girl's hair is long and slightly wavy 一 not like Su-ae’s, he finds himself thinking.

Damn it.

She suddenly looks at him, and he's caught red-handed. ‘Sorry… is there anything wrong?’

Dohwa reacts out of annoyance, immediately averting his gaze to stare straight ahead without a word.

She mumbles a couple of words to herself in quiet undertones.

Her hair falls across her face as she looks down at her bag, rummaging inside it. Dohwa’s eyes slide back to fix upon her 一 before he catches himself staring for too long and faces forward again.

‘Here,’ she says a few moments later. There’s a box of chocolate milk in her hand. ‘You can have it. You don't seem that great today.’

Dohwa looks at her, mildly surprised she bothered to notice, let alone do anything about it. She offers him a slight smile, and it's the first one that has been directed intentionally at him since you've met. It's a quiet sort of smile that makes him feel seen.

He takes the chocolate milk without saying anything at first. And then, realising that she genuinely just wants him to feel better, he says a little gruffly, ‘Thanks.’

She smiles again, but her gaze is already moving to her bag. ‘No worries.’

That’s the extent of their interaction before she draws out a novel, and the conversation lapses into silence.