Annyeongz One-shots

25. Almost Real ( 2 )

Yujin had just stepped into his apartment when the buzz of his phone broke the quiet. The moment he heard the click of the lock behind him, he let out a slow breath and ran a hand through his slightly tousled hair. It had been a long shift—one filled with clinking glasses, murmured orders, forced laughter from patrons, and Hitomi’s relentless teasing—but it was Wonyoung who stayed in his thoughts, like a quiet echo threading through the noise.

He dropped his keys onto the counter with a soft clatter and slid his phone out from his back pocket, expecting maybe a message from Hitomi asking if he’d survived the “interrogation.”

But it wasn’t Hitomi.

Unknown Number:
Hi… it’s Wonyoung. I hope you don’t mind me texting this late.

Yujin stared at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering. A slow, tired smile crept across his lips before he dropped his bag onto the couch and replied.

Yujin:
I wouldn’t have given you my number if I did.

There was a pause—seconds that felt like longer. He walked into his kitchen, opened the fridge, pulled out a water bottle, and twisted the cap just as her reply came in.

Wonyoung:
Right… I guess I just wanted to say thank you. For earlier. The free shot… the way you caught me… and didn’t ask anything.

Yujin leaned against the kitchen counter, bottle pressed to his lips but not drinking, just absorbing her words. There had been something raw in her eyes when she nearly collapsed at the bar—something fractured and desperate. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he noticed it anyway.

He typed slowly, deliberately.

Yujin:
You looked like you needed silence more than sympathy. I respect that.

Another pause. He could picture her now—still dressed in that long coat, makeup smudged at the edges, sitting in a quiet room, probably second-guessing whether reaching out was the right move. She didn’t strike him as the type to open up easily.

Her reply confirmed that.

Wonyoung:
It’s rare. People usually ask questions or offer useless advice like “you deserve better.” But you just… handed me a drink and gave me space.

Yujin smiled faintly and finally took a drink from the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before texting back.

Yujin:
I’ve learned that listening often means saying nothing.

This time, the pause was longer. He walked into the living room, dropping onto the couch with a quiet grunt. The soft hum of the city outside his window barely reached him. His apartment was quiet—always was. Just a few books, clean counters, and a faint smell of leather from the old armchair in the corner. He wasn’t used to this kind of conversation. But for some reason, with her, it didn’t feel draining.

It felt... anchored.

His phone buzzed again.

Wonyoung:
Yujin, can I be honest with you about something?

He sat up straighter.

Yujin:
Always.

This time, there were no typing dots. Just silence. For a long minute, he wondered if she’d changed her mind. But then—

Wonyoung:
I’m not really the kind of girl who walks up to strangers asking for numbers. I didn’t even realize I’d done it until I was already talking to you. I just… I felt safe. And that doesn’t happen often.

Yujin’s heart beat a little heavier at that. He let the words settle. Then typed, slower this time.

Yujin:
You didn’t feel safe because of me. You felt safe because you listened to your instincts. That voice inside that tells you who’s real, and who’s not. You trusted it. I’m just someone who didn’t betray it.