The sky was grey that evening—not stormy, not bright—just the kind of heavy overcast that hangs over the world like it, too, is tired. Jisung sat on the park bench, his hands resting loosely in his lap, fingers interlocked like he was holding himself together. The chilly wind brushed against him, but he didn’t shiver. He just stared ahead.
This park.
The place where they met.
The place where they laughed.
The place where they kissed for the first time.
And tonight, the place where they would end.
It had taken him weeks to gather the courage. Weeks of swallowing tears, of pretending not to see, not to smell, not to feel. Weeks of hoping maybe, maybe minho would turn around and look at him like he used to. But that gaze was gone. Replaced with distracted glances, with silence, with empty excuses.
It's fine, he just needs space jisung had told himself.
But there was a scent lingering on minho’s clothes last night. It wasn’t his cologne. It wasn’t his detergent. It wasn’t his.
It was felix's perfume. Floral. Sweet. Familiar.
Jisung didn’t confront him. He didn’t scream. He didn’t cry.
He simply texted
Let's meet at the park tonight
And now… he waited.
---
An hour passed.
Jisung didn’t check his phone. He didn’t tap his foot impatiently. He just sat still.
Finally—hurried footsteps approached.
“Jisung—sorry, I—”
Minho arrived, breathless, hair slightly disheveled. His clothes—slightly wrinkled. His lips—redder than usual. His neck—faintly flushed.
Jisung didn’t bother placing the puzzle pieces together. He had already solved it.
“Sit,” he said softly.
Minho hesitated, then took a seat beside him. There was a whole ocean of space between them, though their shoulders were barely an inch apart.
jisung didn’t look at him.
“Do you remember,” he began quietly, “the first time we met here?”
minho’s throat tightened. He nodded.
jisung smiled—a small, wistful smile—as his eyes remained fixed on the playground ahead.
“You were sitting on that swing,” he said, pointing. “Kicking the dirt with your foot like a little kid. And I was so annoyed because you wouldn’t stop singing loudly. Off-key. Horribly.”
A breath of laughter escaped minho. But it died quickly.
“And when I told you to shut up,” jisung continued, “you said, 'Only if you sit with me'
Silence settled over them.
“I thought you were so annoying,” jisung whispered. “But… you were warm. You were loud, dramatic, clingy—and I loved it. I loved every bit of you.”
His voice wavered.
“You made me soft. You made me brave. You made me love life.”
minho swallowed, eyes stinging.
“And our first kiss…” jisung’s voice quietened. “In that corner, behind the slide. I remember your hands were shaking like crazy.”
minho’s lips parted. He remembered. Every second.
