ENHYPEN

𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | JAY

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You had always known Jay carried a quiet sadness with him. It was there in the way he looked at the sunset, a distant longing in his eyes as if he were searching for something that had slipped through his fingers. You should've seen it coming, but you convinced yourself otherwise, hoping that the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of his words were enough to make him stay.

You find him in the kitchen tonight, staring into the cup of coffee he's cradling between his hands. The dim light casts a shadow across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the curve of his lips—lips that once smiled at you like you were the only one in his world. But now, there's an emptiness, a hollow look you can't ignore.

"Jay," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the refrigerator's hum. He looks up, startled as if he hadn't noticed you standing there.

You take a step closer, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. "Are you still thinking about her?"

He freezes, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. You see it in his eyes, the guilt, the pain, and the lingering affection he's tried so hard to bury but never reasonably could. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He doesn't need to say it. You already know.

"She still has your heart, doesn't she?" you ask, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. It's a question you've been too afraid to ask, but the silence between you is enough to answer.

Jay's shoulders slump, and he looks away, his knuckles turning white as he grips the cup. "I'm sorry," he finally whispers, breaking the fragile hope you've clung to. "I thought I could move on—I wanted to—but..."

"But you can't," you finish for him, your voice cracking. The tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not when he's already miles away, lost in memories of a love never yours.

He sets the cup down and reaches for you, but you step back. "Don't," you choke out, shaking your head. "I can't—Jay, I can't be her replacement. I can't keep pretending I'm enough when I know you're still in love with her."

He looks stricken, his hands falling to his sides. "You are enough," he says desperately, but even he doesn't believe his words. It's there in his eyes—the guilt, the regret, and the shadow of a love he can't let go of.

You swallow hard, forcing a bitter smile. "If I were enough, you wouldn't still be thinking about her."

The silence that follows is suffocating. It's the final nail in the coffin, confirming everything you feared. You take a shaky breath and turn away, leaving the room before the tears spill over.

Behind you, Jay doesn't call out. He doesn't stop you. And that, more than anything, tells you everything you need to know.

You find yourself standing in the hallway, gripping the edge of the doorframe as if it's the only thing holding you up. The familiar ache settles in your chest, spreading like wildfire, burning through the remnants of your hope. It feels like a final goodbye, even though no words have been said. You can hear Jay's soft, uneven breaths behind you, but neither of you moves. Neither of you dares to speak.

The memories come rushing back—nights spent laughing under shared blankets, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the room, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheek as if you were something precious. You realize it was all borrowed time, a fleeting moment where you were allowed to pretend he was yours.