Jungwon had always been patient—with the mood swings, the cold shoulders, the sharp words you never quite meant. he stayed longer than most would. longer than you expected. and maybe that was the problem.

Because you didn’t realize how close he was to walking away until he actually did.

It’s been a few months now. the silence between you stretched longer than the years you’d spent side by side. but tonight, after one too many drinks and too few regrets, you called him.

And surprisingly, he picked up. you didn’t say anything at first. just your breath on the line, heavy with whatever it was you couldn’t hold anymore.

“…It’s late,” came his voice—quiet, careful, the kind he used when he wasn’t sure if he should be talking to you.

Still, he didn’t hang up. you swallowed. “I miss you.”

There was a pause. you could almost hear the shift in his expression, the weight in his silence.

“…Do you miss me?” he asked finally. “Or is it just the alcohol talking again?”

He wasn’t angry. just… tired. and for the first time, maybe you heard it.