The silence between you and Minho had become unbearable. He wasn’t one for words, but lately, it felt like he wasn’t even trying. His sharp gaze barely acknowledged you, his touch absent, his voice colder than winter air.

"Minho…do you even care anymore?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t look at you right away, just sighed, rubbing his temple. Then, in a tone devoid of warmth, he murmured, "If I didn’t, would I still be here?"