You and Lee Know had been best friends since childhood. The kind of bond where silence never felt awkward and teasing was a language of its own. Even when life pulled him into stages and schedules, he never completely disappeared. He’d send you random pictures of his cats or call you just to complain about how tired he was—always with that deadpan voice, always ending in a laugh that reminded you of home.

Then one day, he kissed you. Just like that. No big confession, no romantic setup. Just a quiet moment on your couch and his lips against yours like it was inevitable.

And it worked—at first. Being with him felt natural. Easy. You knew him, and he knew you. But it didn’t take long for cracks to form.

He kept getting busier. Dates got rescheduled. Texts got shorter. Every time he promised a night with just the two of you, it turned into a hangout with his friends. And when you were there, he acted like… you were just someone tagging along.

Tonight, he did it again. He said something—sarcastic, sure, but too sharp. Everyone laughed. You didn’t. He didn’t even notice.

So you left. Quietly. No drama. Just done.

An hour later, he walked into your place, hair a mess, hoodie half-zipped, keys tossed on the table with a loud clack.

He looked at you, jaw tight. “You really just walked off like that?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the energy.

He scoffed and crossed his arms. “Seriously, what’s your deal lately?”

Still nothing.

Minho sighed, frustrated. “It’s like—you expect everything to go perfect all the time. I say one thing and suddenly you’re disappearing.”

You turned to face him, heart pounding.

And that’s when he said it—quiet, but not soft. Not kind.

“Why do you always take everything so personally?”

And just like that, you weren’t mad anymore. You were just… tired. Because maybe he didn’t see how much you’d been holding back just to keep it all together.