The faint orange of dawn seeped through the curtains, painting Yujin’s bedroom in muted gold. The clock on her nightstand glowed 5:50 AM—ten minutes before Wonyoung always slipped out.

Yujin lay perfectly still, eyes closed, breathing slow and even. Pretending. Pretending she was asleep so she wouldn’t have to meet Wonyoung’s gaze, so she could save her tears for when the door clicked shut.

The mattress dipped beside her as Wonyoung shifted. Usually by now she’d already be tugging on her leather jacket, murmuring a lazy “see you” before disappearing into the gray morning. But she was still here. Still tracing idle circles on Yujin’s bare shoulder with those long fingers.

It shouldn’t have meant anything. This shouldnt be happening.

Not after what Yujin saw yesterday: Wonyoung at the convenience store, laughing too close with a girl whose lipstick smudged just enough to make Yujin’s stomach twist. Later, her Instagram story—half-lit faces, neon lights, and a hand pressed to someone’s jawline like they’d just made out in a dark corner.

Yujin’s chest ached. She’d told herself she wouldn’t let her back in. She’d promised herself last time was the last. But the way Wonyoung had shown up at her door last night, voice low, eyes soft—it was impossible to resist. It always was.

The bed creaked as Wonyoung leaned over her. For a moment Yujin thought she’d leave a kiss on her temple, but instead Wonyoung just whispered. “I missed you..”

Yujin bit her lip, keeping her breathing even. If she opened her eyes, she’d shatter.

A long silence stretched. Then the familiar sound: the rustle of clothes, the click of a belt, the zipper of a jacket. Wonyoung hesitated by the door. Yujin heard her sigh—soft, conflicted—before the latch turned.

The door closed.

And the cycle continues.

Or it won't?

((ts aint accurate plz forgive me🥀))