"who said i like older women? there's no such thing."

jungwon remembers himself saying it so confidently — even laughing, like the idea alone was ridiculous. but the truth? he had already been staring at your contact minutes before, thumb hovering over the screen, heart beating a little too fast at the thought of texting you.

you — the girl he used to admire from afar in high school, the upperclassman who felt untouchable. now you’re both in college, still friends, still close enough for him to pretend the feelings never stuck.

but tonight, with alcohol warm in his veins and courage loosening his tongue, his friends dragged him to a bar. one drink became three, then four. the next thing he knew, he was knocking on your apartment door at midnight, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

and now he’s slumped on your couch, head buried in his hands, drunken words spilling out like a dam finally cracked.

"it’s always been you, noona— hic— always…"