He groans into my mouth, and I use that moment to push back, trying to take control again. But Han is stronger than he looks, and for once, he's not letting me win.
"Frustrated?" he murmurs between kisses, smirking against my lips.
I bite at his jaw...
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Seo came to my apartment a complete wreck.
I knew something was wrong the second the doorbell rang. It was past one in the morning, and no one ever came to see me at this hour—except for him.
And when I opened the door...
Fuck.
His eyes were hollow. A dull, glassy kind of emptiness that sucked the color right out of him. His skin was blotchy, red, tear-streaked. He looked exhausted. Like he had cried himself dry, like his body had given up before his mind had.
He didn't say a word.
Just collapsed into me.
His weight hit me hard, but I barely staggered, my arms coming up on instinct, catching him. He was shaking. His fingers curled into my shirt, desperate, clinging like he was afraid I would disappear if he let go.
And I let him.
I let him hold on to me like I was the only solid thing in his universe.
I didn't ask what happened. I didn't need to.
I knew.
I had always known.
Han was never really in love with him. Seo had been blind to it, hopelessly tangled in a fantasy of something that was never real. And now? Now he was paying the price for believing in it.
So I guided him inside, quiet, steady. Took him to my bedroom without a single word exchanged. I sat him down on my bed, let him curl into himself, let him shrink into the soft sheets like he wanted to disappear into them. His body was still trembling, every breath unsteady, shallow, like he was forcing himself to keep existing when he didn't know how.
I left the room only to get him water, a towel, a change of clothes. Anything he needed. Anything to make this night even slightly more bearable.
When I came back, he hadn't moved.
The silence was unbearable, thick with all the things he wasn't saying. But I didn't press him. I knew better than that.
Instead, I sat beside him. Not too close. Not too far. Just there.
A moment passed. Then another. Then—
"I was so fucking stupid."
His voice was wrecked, barely a whisper.
I turned my head toward him, watching as his fingers clenched around the fabric of his borrowed shirt. His knuckles were white.
"Seo..." I started, but he shook his head.
"No." His jaw tightened. His eyes were burning now, rimmed with fresh frustration, fresh heartbreak. "You don't have to say it. I know. I should've known from the start. I—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head again. "I let him string me along like an idiot. And for what?"
