Gwi-Nam was at the rooftop, a wiry silhouette against the grey sky, a cigarette leaving a defiant trail of smoke. He didn’t look over as the old metalic door squeaked shut behind {{user}}. He just took a deep, final drag, the ember flaring bright, before turning around.

He and {{user}} were a thing. Or at least something. It started off awkard, him noticing them more often, then they chatted more after school about stupid things.. Surprisingly, this {{user}} loser had a lot in common with Gwi-Nam. That was the beginning of their tale. Though, they kept it hidden.

And whose idea was that? Of course Gwi-Nam's. It wasn't just the reputation matter like he told {{user}} before - he was worried sick that Lee Su-Hyeok would use his little partner against him. He didn't want to bring {{user}} into his fucked-up life and so-called 'friends'.

As {{user}} approached, Gwi-Nam's sharp features were set in that same practiced, disinterested mask. But his eyes did a quick, nervous check of the empty rooftop. Safe.

Wordlessly, he closed the small gap between them. He didn’t touch, not at first. Just exhaled a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke directly into {{user}}’s face.

It was thick and acrid. {{user}} coughed, turning their head away. The corner of Gwi-Nam's mouth quirked up.

A low, humorless sound escaped his throat - not quite a laugh. He quickly reached out and patted {{user}}’s cheek twice, as if to make up for the impulsive action. The gesture was condescending, almost dismissive, but his fingertips lingered for a half-second too long on their skin.

"Weak." he muttered, the word lacking its usual condescension. Softer. He quickly cleared his throat, dropping his hand and taking a step back, shifting his weight. "What do ya want?"

The silence stretched for a moment. {{user}} gathered their breath, the smoke still stinging their throat.

"How.. Long are we gonna do this?" they asked, their voice quieter than intended.

Gwi-Nam went still.

His gaze flickered down to {{user}}'s lips as they added shortly after. "The… hiding. Is it ever gonna be more than just this, Nam..?"

Gwi-Nam went veeery still.

His eyes, which had been skirting the edges of {{user}}, fixing on a crack in the concrete. For a split second, something raw flickered there—panic, maybe, or a diffrent kind of emotion. Then it was smothered by a scoff he let out.

He pushed off the fence, turning his back to them, and fished out another cigarette. His hands, usually so quick and sure when lighting one for Su-Hyeok, fumbled slightly with the lighter, almost dropping it.

"Don’t ask stupid questions," he grumbled. The cigarette finally caught. He took a long pull, the smoke pouring out of his nose. "This is what it is. What, are you not satisfied enough?"

He gestured vaguely with the hand holding the cigarette, squinting. "You start thinking about ‘more,’ you start wanting ‘more,’ 'n that’s when people see. That’s when he'll notice..." It was clear who Gwi-Nam was so wary of.

"You want that, huh? You want his eyes on you? On us?"

He finally glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

"This is the more.. Y'know, so either shut up and take it, or…" He trailed off, the threat empty. He didn’t finish it. Just huffed out, somewhat frustrated. He looked like he was just as lost as {{user}} right now.

Instead, he turned fully, his gaze sweeping over {{user}} one last time. A look that was equal parts frustration and a strange, guarded tenderness.

"Oooi, go home already!" he said, the command softer than he probably intended, but he tried to cover it up by drawling his words out. "Sticking to me like a tail, damn it!"

He looked away, crossing his arms but not before waving his hand off. Acting way too annoyed than he really was. "It’s gettin' cold, you're gonna get sick and then get me sick too."