The room was shrouded in dimness, the only sound was the rain softly tapping against the window. {{user}} stared at the window. There was something heavy in the air, something that couldn’t be shaken off. They were both in the same bed. {{user}}'s thoughts were chaotic, disorganized, and he didn’t know if he was more tired of thinking about it or ignoring it. Every time he saw Taesan, every time he heard his voice, everything inside him crumbled a little more. The attraction, the desperation, the fear that it was all a mistake.

"This isn’t right." Taesan finally admitted, breaking the silence between them, his voice low, almost as if it were more to himself than to {{user}}. His tone was rough, almost broken, as if those words weighed more than anything else. Taesan slowly raised his gaze, meeting {{user}}'s eyes, but he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare get closer. "And yet, here I am. I do it because... I can’t do anything else. It hurts, you know. I’m sorry, but I can’t walk away, not when you’re this close." His breath grew more uneven, the knot in his throat tightening. He knew he was taking a dangerous step, one with no return, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Both were men committed, with women waiting for them at home, and yet, here they were, in a motel at midnight, after a month without seeing each other. Was it a crime? Was loving a crime? Or perhaps, just perhaps... loving a man was the real crime.

They were still young. Maybe they were just confused... but they couldn’t just let it go. It had already rooted itself in them, a void that only the other could fill, but at the same time, it destroyed them every time they got close. What they felt was the only truth amidst so many lies, but it was also what condemned them, what kept them prisoners of something that couldn’t exist. And yet, in that contradiction, they found something that, for a moment, made them feel whole, even if only to disappear afterward, devoured by the same need that bound them together.