It was late.
The house was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that only existed on weekends when exhaustion settled into the walls. Sungchan had fallen asleep hours ago, sprawled across the bed in one of the guest rooms, one arm thrown protectively across empty space where Soul had been lying earlier.
She couldn’t sleep.
Her chest felt tight. Restless.
So she went downstairs.
The kitchen lights were dimmed, only the soft glow under the cabinets illuminating the room. Chenle stood by the counter, back turned, a glass of water in his hand.
For a moment, she just watched him.
He looked… smaller. Not physically — but like someone trying not to exist too loudly.
“Soul,” he said suddenly, without turning around.
Her heart dropped.
“You always know,” she whispered.
He turned then — just enough to acknowledge her presence — but his eyes slid away almost immediately.
“I was just leaving,” he said, already stepping to the side. “Didn’t want to wake anyone.”
He moved to pass her.
She reached out.
Her fingers wrapped around his sleeve.
“Don’t,” she said.
He froze.
“Please,” she added, voice breaking just slightly. “Don’t do that.”
He still didn’t look at her.
“Soul, I—”
“Why won’t you look at me?” she asked, suddenly louder, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Did I do something wrong?”
That finally made him turn.
“No,” he said immediately. “Never.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re gone?” she whispered.
Her grip tightened.
“You stopped talking to me. You stopped sitting next to me. You stopped laughing with me,” she said, her voice shaking now. “I keep thinking maybe you’re busy or tired or angry but—”
Her breath hitched.
“I miss you.”
Chenle’s composure cracked.
“You’re my best friend,” she said, tears finally spilling over. “And I don’t understand why you’re acting like I don’t exist anymore.”
He looked wrecked.
“I was trying to protect you,” he said hoarsely.
“From what?” she demanded. “From you?”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
“I don’t belong here,” she said quietly. “I know that. I feel it every day. But when you pull away too… it feels like I’m losing the only place that ever felt safe.”
Chenle gulped heavy, then he whispered. “I have to go...” then he stepped past her.
The tears slid down the girls cheeks, as she turned and looked after him.
