Kim Namjoon - I don't believe in love, and if you are looking for that in me and us, then you should stop right here, Y/N.
Y/N - I'm not searching for love either, and I don't want you to feel anything special for me.
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Y/N - Why don't you i...
As he walked down the familiar corridor toward the elevator, his thoughts began to settle, the energy from the studio still buzzing inside him. He entered the elevator and pressed the ground floor, his mind wandering between plans, lyrics, and the usual rhythm of everyday thoughts.
The car was waiting for him in the parking lot, and he slid inside, closing the door and letting out a small sigh of contentment. But just as he was about to settle in, his phone buzzed.
Glancing down, Namjoon's heart stopped for a second. It was a message from Ha Eun. Her words stared back at him from the screen: "Namjoon, can we meet? I'm leaving Seoul permanently."
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He felt his pulse quicken, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. They hadn't spoken since everything had ended, and he'd even told her not to contact him. But now, seeing her reach out in what might be the last time, a part of him felt... uncertain.
His mind spun, trying to make sense of it all. Should he meet her?
Namjoon stared at his phone screen, the words blurring as he tried to make sense of the emotions churning inside him. The car had already started moving, but he was somewhere else entirely, lost between the past and the present. Memories he thought he'd tucked away began surfacing—moments he'd spent with Ha Eun, the laughter they shared, the future they'd once imagined.
But just as quickly, the hurt washed over him. He'd told himself he was done. He'd asked her not to reach out, convinced it was the best way to move on. And yet, here he was, reading her message, feeling every bit of that conflict rise up all over again.
He rubbed his temples, trying to calm his racing thoughts.His thumb hovered over the keyboard. Part of him wanted to ignore it, to let it be, to hold on to the boundary he'd set. But another part of him... the part that still missed her, that still remembered the good, wanted to know why she'd reached out. Was this goodbye? Did she want closure, too?
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After what felt like an eternity, he finally typed a short message:
