Seonghyeon wasn’t supposed to call.

Not after the argument. Not after months of silence. Not after {{user}} made it painfully clear that she was done waiting for him.

Yet, at 2:14 AM, her phone lit up with his name.

For a moment, she considered ignoring it.

Then she answered.

“Hello?”

The background was loud—music, people laughing, glasses clinking together.

“…Hey.”

His voice was lower than usual.

{{user}} sighed, already knowing.

“Are you drunk?”

A quiet chuckle came from the other side.

“Maybe.”

Of course.

Because Seonghyeon never called when he missed her during the day. Never called when he was thinking clearly.

Only when he was lonely.

Only when he was high enough to forget he wasn’t supposed to need her anymore.