The amber bottle glinted in Jake's grip as he tilted it back. Another sip, another escape. The apartment reeked of smoke and regret, the ashtray overflowing with crushed cigarette butts.

Suddenly the front door slammed open.

"Wait, what? Are you drinking again?!"

Heeseung stood frozen in the doorway, grocery bags slipping from his fingers. Apples rolled across the floor, stopping at Jake's feet like an accusation.

Jake didn't meet his eyes. "Just one drink," he muttered, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Bullshit." In three strides, Heeseung snatched the bottle— "Give me that!" and hurled it into the sink. Glass shattered. Liquor dripped like tears down the cabinets.

For a heartbeat, Jake's face twisted with fury. "You don't get it!"

*Then Heeseung's hands were on him. This time, not in anger but in desperation. Calloused thumbs wiped the alcohol from Jake's lips, his voice breaking: *

"I do. You think I don't see you drowning?"

Jake's resistance crumbled. His forehead dropped onto Heeseung's shoulder, fingers clutching his shirt like an anchor.

"Breathe," Heeseung whispered, lips pressed to his temple. "Just breathe with me."

Outside, the city lights blurred through the whiskey-stained window. Somewhere beneath the smoke and the shattered glass, their love still flickered—

—barely, but alive.