Kim Namjoon - I don't believe in love, and if you are looking for that in me and us, then you should stop right here, Y/N.
Y/N - I'm not searching for love either, and I don't want you to feel anything special for me.
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Y/N - Why don't you i...
I walked out of Jin hyung's flat, my steps heavy, my chest tight. The night air hit me, but it barely registered. My mind was somewhere else—somewhere I tried not to go. Ha Eun. Her name, just the sound of it, left a hollow ache inside me. Even the alcohol couldn't numb it, and in some ways, it made it worse.
The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for my floor almost automatically. The doors began to close, and I whispered under my breath, "Ha Eun..." The words barely left my lips before the drink caught up with me, burning my stomach, making the world tilt slightly.
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And then, memories hit me like waves I hadn't prepared for. I remembered the first time we came to this flat together—the way we laughed as we unpacked, stacking boxes like we were building a small fortress. I remembered a moment when we were so shocked by a loud bang outside that we clung to each other, hearts racing, and then giggled nervously, feeling alive. Another time, late at night, the same elevator had been the scene of our small, desperate urgency to be closer, unable to resist each other's warmth, hearts pounding, breaths mingling. The lift always felt like our private world, and yet, every time it closed, reality waited for us outside.
The elevator dinged softly, snapping me back. Doors opened. I stepped out, and my eyes took in the flat in front of me—the one Ha Eun and I had shared. My hand went almost instinctively to the doorbell, pressing it. My chest tightened with every second, the ache in my heart growing. The alcohol swirled in my veins, heightening everything: the memories, the loss, the urge to reach out, to hold.
The door swung open, and for a split second, I didn't see her face. A figure stood there, familiar, yet not her. My thoughts raced—Ha Eun? Could it be? The confusion, the longing, the grief all collided inside me.
I didn't pause. Without thinking, I stepped forward, pulled her close, and wrapped my arms around her. My lips barely brushed her hair as I whispered, breaking, "Ha Eun..."
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The name spilled out with everything I hadn't been able to say, every ounce of longing, every sleepless night, every painful memory. My body pressed closer, as if by holding her, I could erase the emptiness, even if just for a moment.
