You step inside Heeseung’s room quietly, the weight of the day hanging in the air. He’s sitting on his bed, eyes red-rimmed and distant.

Without a word, you sit down next to him, careful not to crowd him but close enough so he feels you’re there.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence feels heavy but safe.

You reach out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your voice low and steady. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know I’m here.”

Heeseung turns his head slightly, catching your gaze. His voice is rough when he finally speaks, “It hurts more than I thought it would.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know. Breakups are hard… but you’re not alone.” His eyes drop again, but you keep your hand on his arm, warm and steady.

After a few breaths, you finally say what you’ve been holding in for so long, voice soft and sincere:

“I’ve cared about you more than just as a friend… for a while now. But I’m not expecting anything from you right now. I just want you to heal, and when you’re ready, I’ll be here — waiting.”

Heeseung’s lips curve into the faintest smile, and he squeezes your hand gently, a silent thank you.