𝔻é𝕛à 𝕣ê𝕧é 𝟚𝟙+ 𝕁𝕁𝕂

𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣:ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟟𝟜

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥  ♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥  ♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥  ♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

Dohwan quietly pushed open the bedroom door, the faint creak of the hinges barely disturbing the fragile silence within. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft silver streaks across the room, gently illuminating Amelia's sleeping form curled under the blanket. His chest tightened at the sight of her peaceful face, contrasting sharply with the storm raging inside him. Each breath he took felt heavy, weighted with unspoken words and shattered trust. He moved to the edge of the bed, his hands trembling slightly as he began to unbutton his shirt, fingers fumbling with the fabric as if the simple act required more strength than he could muster.

As he slipped out of his clothes, the cool air against his skin did little to quell the heat of betrayal burning beneath. He sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, his gaze fixed on Amelia's sleeping face, her features soft and serene, untouched by the chaos that had unraveled hours earlier. Unable to hold back any longer, he whispered into the darkness, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" The words hung there, unanswered, merging with the shadows on the walls.

Sliding under the covers, Dohwan kept his distance, his body tense, his back turned to her. The space between them felt vast, filled with everything they hadn't said. Moments later, Amelia stirred slightly, the shift in the air pulling her from the depths of sleep. She turned toward him, her hand instinctively reaching out, fingers brushing lightly against his back. "Dohwan?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and concern. He didn't move, didn't respond, his body rigid beneath her gentle touch. The silence was deafening.

Amelia's heart tightened, the distance between them more than just physical. She shifted closer, her arm sliding around his waist, pulling herself against his back. "Please, talk to me," she whispered, her cheek resting softly between his shoulder blades, her warmth pressing into the cold space he had created. Dohwan squeezed his eyes shut, her touch both comforting and agonizing. His chest rose and fell with strained breaths, the ache in his heart growing heavier. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice a fragile whisper, "I don't know how to, Amelia. Not right now."

But her arms stayed firm around him, her silent presence nudging at the wall he had built. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Dohwan turned to face her. His eyes met hers in the dim light—glassy, red-rimmed, filled with a vulnerability he could no longer mask. "I'm scared," he confessed, his voice breaking. "Scared that I've lost you, that I was never enough." Amelia's heart shattered at his words. She cupped his face gently, her thumbs brushing away the tears he didn't realize had fallen. "You are enough," she whispered, her own tears mingling with his. Dohwan's voice fractured the fragile silence, brittle and uneven. "I know you'll choose him."

The words hung between them like a fragile thread, stretched taut, ready to snap. His jaw clenched, a futile attempt to anchor himself against the rising tide of emotions threatening to pull him under. His gaze darted to the floor, unwilling to meet Amelia's eyes, afraid that seeing her sympathy would unravel him completely. Amelia's breath hitched, her heart constricting with guilt. She stepped forward instinctively, her hand trembling as it reached out to him. "Dohwan, please..." she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

Her fingers brushed against his arm, warm and familiar, a touch that once brought comfort. But now it seared. Dohwan flinched ever so slightly, his body tensing under the gentle contact. Still, he didn't pull away—not fully. His heart ached for her closeness, craved the comfort, yet recoiled from it, knowing it would only deepen the fracture within him. He forced a brittle laugh, shaking his head as if he could dismiss the weight of her touch. "Don't, Amelia," he rasped, his voice raw. "Don't make this harder than it already is." But she didn't let go. Instead, she stepped closer, her arms encircling him hesitantly, pulling him into an embrace that felt like both solace and a goodbye. Dohwan's breath hitched, his arms lifting halfway as if to return the gesture—but they froze mid-air, suspended between wanting and knowing better.