𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡 | park sunghoon. ✓

▎025

☂︎

THAT NIGHT, as Sarim lay on her mattress in the cold, cramped apartment she called home, she stared at the cracked ceiling. Her father's muffled snores echoed from the other room, but it was Sunghoon's voice that kept her awake. The words echoed in her mind until her vision blurred with fresh tears.

Sarim had always been used to being alone. It wasn't something she liked, but it was what she knew. The silence, the solitude. It had become her normal. Yet this time, it was different. It wasn't just loneliness. It was betrayal.

She couldn't stop hearing his voice. The words wouldn't leave her head, repeating over and over, clawing at her every time she tried to focus on anything else.

"It's exhausting to be around her. She's just... pathetic. Always hanging around, hoping someone cares. I can't stand it."

Her chest tightened painfully every time she thought about it, a heavy ache spreading through her body. The worst part was that it was Sunghoon who said it. The person she had started to believe might care. The person who, despite everything, made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

But it was all a lie.

Sarim sat up on the edge of her bed, her fingers curling into the blanket beneath her. She stared at the floor, her shoulders trembling. The tears were hot and relentless, streaking down her face no matter how hard she tried to stop them. It wasn't just the words that hurt, it was the trust she had put in him. She had let him get close, let herself believe, even for a moment, that someone could see her differently.

But he hadn't.

The next morning, Sarim stood in front of her mirror, her hands gripping the edge of the sink. Her reflection stared back at her, hollow and unfamiliar. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed with red, her lips dry and cracked from all the crying she'd done the night before. She hated how weak she looked, how small.

No more.

She wouldn't let herself be hurt like this again. She didn't know if it was out of desperation or stubbornness, but she decided then and there to cut Sunghoon off completely. If he thought she was pathetic, he wouldn't get to see her at all.

The first day of avoiding him was harder than she expected. She woke up earlier than usual to avoid running into him on the way to school, taking a longer, quieter route through the backstreets. The air was cold and biting, but she welcomed the discomfort. It was better than the suffocating weight in her chest whenever she thought about him.

During class, she kept her head down, pretending to focus on her notebook. But every time she heard his voice, even from across the room, her stomach twisted. She couldn't stop herself from wondering if he even noticed she was avoiding him, or if he even cared.

Lunchtime was worse. The cafeteria was too loud, too crowded, and she couldn't bear the thought of seeing him there. Instead, she slipped away to the art room, a quiet sanctuary where she could be alone. The smell of paint and charcoal filled the air, comforting in its familiarity. She sat at one of the tables, pulling out her sketchbook with shaky hands.

At first, she just stared at the blank page, her mind racing too much to focus. But then she started drawing, her pencil moving erratically across the paper. The lines were harsh, the shapes uneven, but she didn't care.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her concentration. She glanced at the screen, her heart sinking when she saw his name.

Her hand hovered over the phone for a moment before she swiped the call away, silencing it. She stared at the dark screen, her chest tightening again. Minutes later, it buzzed again, this time with a message.

"Hey, Sarim. Are you okay? I haven't seen you lately."

She read the text over and over, her hands gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. How dare he? The anger was sharp and sudden, but it was quickly swallowed by the familiar ache in her chest. She set the phone down, ignoring the message, and went back to her sketchbook.

The days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. Sarim avoided Sunghoon with a determination that surprised even herself. She ignored his calls, left his messages unread, and stayed far away from any place she thought he might be. It was exhausting, but not as exhausting as hearing his voice in her head, mocking her over and over.

But no matter how hard she tried to push him out of her mind, he lingered.

For Sunghoon, the silence was unbearable. At first, he thought Sarim was just busy or distracted. But as the days passed and her absence became more obvious, unease crept in. He tried telling himself it wasn't a big deal, that she would come around eventually. But the unanswered calls and unread texts started to feel like a wall between them, one he didn't know how to break through.

"Hey, Shuhua," he called out one day during lunch, spotting her near the vending machines. Her usual cheerful expression was replaced by something colder, more serious.

"What is it?" she asked, her arms crossed.

He hesitated, feeling an unfamiliar sense of nervousness. "I-Is everything okay with Sarim? I haven't seen her lately."

Shuhua's eyes narrowed, her tone sharp as she replied, "You should know, Sunghoon."

Her words hit him like a slap. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But Shuhua didn't answer. She shook her head and walked away, leaving him standing there, confused and unsettled.

The rest of the day passed in a haze, Shuhua's words echoing in his mind. By the time the last class ended, he was desperate for answers. He stayed behind in the empty classroom, the silence pressing down on him.

He sat at his desk, his mind racing as he replayed everything that had happened. And then, like a punch to the gut, it hit him.

"It's exhausting to be around her. She's just... pathetic. Always hanging around, hoping someone cares. I can't stand it."

His stomach turned as he remembered the conversation with Nayu. The words he'd said so carelessly, not thinking about who might be listening.

Did she hear me?

The thought was like ice in his veins. Her sudden avoidance, the ghosting, Shuhua's cold response; it all made sense now.

He buried his face in his hands, guilt crashing over him like a wave. He had hurt her, and not just a little. He had shattered the fragile trust she had placed in him, and now she was gone, retreating into a shell he didn't know how to break through.

For the first time, Sunghoon realized just how much she meant to him. And for the first time, he realized how badly he had screwed up.

But it might already be too late to fix it.

authors note :
hii bbs. how are you all doing? really sorry for the lack of updates this was like the last draft i had but i'll try to update more often, since i have holidays soon. oh and lmk if you like the banner :)
love you lots 💗