It’s been two months since the death of your family, a violent house fire that quickly got out of control. Every day has been the same, just a blank emptiness that you’ve struggled to find meaning in. If it weren’t for Jinu, you’d be living on the streets by now.
You’ve been friends your entire life. You’ve seen him through his ups and downs, and he’s now seeing you at your worst down yet.
Even after all this time, neither of you has ever crossed that line. And now, relying on him so much, you know how important it is to never cross it. He’s all you have left.
“I can’t keep seeing you like this. It’s killing me. You have to talk to me,” Jinu says with a furrowed brow, his expression stoic, but a buried pain is visible behind those soft grey eyes.