between the spolight - purinz ✧

what we left unsaid.

yunjin's pov —

the days that followed felt surreal, like i was suspended in a dream i didn't want to wake up from. that moment in the storage room with chaewon replayed in my mind over and over, each memory filled with the warmth of her smile, the softness of her touch, and the quiet promise in her eyes.

but reality has a way of creeping back in, like shadows stretching across a once-bright room. the distance between us, the one we'd tried so hard to ignore, slowly started to resurface. chaewon was just as caught up in the demands of her schedule as i was with mine, our worlds constantly pulling us in different directions. every time my phone lit up, my heart leapt, hoping it was her. and sometimes it was, a short message or a quick goodnight call, but they always left me wanting more.

i told myself to be patient, that we'd find a way to make this work, no matter the distance, no matter how chaotic things got. but in the quiet moments—late at night, when the city outside was still and my thoughts were too loud—i felt the ache of wanting her. i wanted her there with me, her laugh filling the silence, her hand reaching for mine. but instead, all i had were memories, moments we'd stolen together in the midst of everything else.

on the third night, after rehearsals had dragged late into the evening, i finally caught a break. i was lying on my bed, staring at my phone, debating whether to text her. i knew she was probably just as exhausted, but i couldn't shake the feeling that if i didn't reach out, this thing between us would slip away, like sand through my fingers.

before i could second-guess myself, i typed out a message.

📱 yunjin: miss you. can i call?

the three dots appeared almost instantly. my heart raced as i waited for her response, holding my breath.

📱 chaewon: of course. i was just about to message you.

i pressed call, and her voice came through, soft but full of warmth. "yunjin."

"hey," i replied, letting my eyes drift closed as i let the sound of her voice settle over me like a balm.

there was a pause, one filled with a mix of contentment and unspoken words. "it's been a crazy few days," she murmured, her tone a little heavier. "i keep thinking about that night. about... us."

i could hear the vulnerability in her voice, the way it trembled slightly, like she was holding back a tide of emotions. i wanted to tell her that i felt the same, that i was counting the hours until i could see her again, but i also didn't want to push her. i'd learned that patience was necessary with chaewon; she was gentle, careful, and sometimes guarded.

"me too," i replied softly. "it feels like i'm constantly waiting, counting down until the next time i get to be near you. it's like... i don't know how to be without you anymore."

the words left my mouth before i could fully process them, but they were true. being with chaewon felt like a missing piece sliding into place. but now, with the reality of our separate lives, i couldn't help but wonder if this connection could survive.

there was a pause on her end, a soft intake of breath. "yunjin, i don't know how to explain this, but you... you make me feel like i'm not alone." her voice dropped to a whisper. "i don't think i realized how lonely i was until you."

her words hit me harder than i expected, and i found myself blinking back the emotions welling up. "i want to be there for you, chaewon. i don't want this to just be stolen moments and empty spaces. i want more."

the line went silent, and for a moment, my chest tightened with the fear that i'd pushed too far. but then she spoke, her tone filled with a hesitant resolve. "i do too. i don't know how, or what it means, but i want to try."

we stayed on the line like that, a comforting silence settling between us. eventually, our conversation grew quieter, our voices softer, until we drifted into our own worlds, connected by the shared warmth of that moment.

the next morning, i woke to a single message from her:

📱 chaewon: meet me at the park tonight? i'll be there after your practice.

she sent me an address.

a surge of excitement flooded through me. all day, i went through rehearsals with renewed energy, my focus sharp, my heart racing at the thought of seeing her. by the time evening rolled around, i was practically vibrating with anticipation.

i arrived early, the city lights casting a warm glow over the park as i waited by the fountain. the air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead, and i felt a sense of calm settle over me, despite the impatience simmering in my veins.

when i finally saw her, a smile broke across my face. she was bundled up in a warm coat, her hair pulled back, looking both familiar and breathtakingly beautiful. as she walked toward me, she looked around nervously, as if trying to make sure no one else was watching.

without a word, i closed the distance between us, pulling her into a hug. she melted into my arms, her hands coming up to grip the back of my coat, like she was anchoring herself.

"i'm so glad you came," i whispered against her hair, feeling the soft brush of her breath against my neck.

she pulled back, just enough to look up at me, her eyes filled with an emotion i couldn't quite place. "i needed to see you," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "i've been overthinking everything, worrying about what this means... but when i'm with you, it all just fades away."

we walked together, our steps falling into an easy rhythm as we talked about everything and nothing. there was a sense of quiet understanding between us, a comfort i only feel with her. for a few stolen hours, we were just us, two people trying to navigate something we were really scared but were willing to try for.

as the night drew on and the city lights softened, she turned to me, her expression tinged with sadness. "i wish we didn't have to keep this a secret. i wish..."

"i know," i replied, taking her hand in mine. "but we have this, here and now. and that's enough."

she nodded, her fingers curling around mine as she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a gentle, lingering kiss. it was soft, filled with a promise that we would hold onto this, no matter what.

when we finally parted, the reality of our separate worlds settled in once again. we both knew that we would have to go back, to our own lives, our own routines. but as she walked away that night, glancing back one last time, i felt a sense of peace.

we had each other. and maybe, for now, that was enough.