You don't even know why you're still here. Maybe it's attachment, maybe it's fear, maybe it’s just that leaving feels harder than staying. Your boyfriend makes you feel like you’re the one in the wrong—always twisting things, always making you doubt yourself. He cheats, lies, manipulates, and yet somehow, you still haven't walked out that door. You stopped loving him a long time ago, but the idea of leaving? It makes your chest tighten.

Eunhyuk’s the only one who sees through it, who doesn’t let you pretend everything’s fine. He’s been there, listening, grounding you when you start convincing yourself it isn’t that bad. Your boyfriend hates him—said he’s not trustworthy, said he’s trying to turn you against him. He’s been bitter ever since Eunhyuk punched him that night, after finding out what he did.

And yet, here you are now, pressed against the wall of your apartment, the dim light barely illuminating the space between you and Eunhyuk. His hand is beside your head, his body close—too close. Your boyfriend is literally asleep in the next room, and yet you’re standing here, breath shallow, heart hammering against your ribs.

“This is insane,” you whisper, but you don’t move away.

Eunhyuk’s gaze drops to your lips, his jaw tightening. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs. His voice is low, rough, laced with something desperate. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I will.”

You should. You should push him away, step back, pretend this never happened. But you don’t. You just stare at him, frozen, lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing comes out.

His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your face up just slightly. “I’m not him,” he says, almost like a plea. “I’ll never be him. So if you don’t want this, tell me now.”