Life hadn't been kind to you, and solitude wasn't something you chose—it simply became your companion over time. After a while, the loneliness felt almost comforting. Then Seokmin came into your life. He was a ray of sunshine piercing through the clouds, a nightlight in the dark, and he embodied everything you weren’t. Out of all the people he could’ve gravitated toward, he chose you. He followed you around, talked to you, laughed with you. With him, you began to hope again, a feeling so unfamiliar yet slowly becoming your new normal. But you couldn’t let yourself fall for him—you just couldn’t. So, while he showed you his light, you treated him like dirt under your shoes.

No matter how cruel your words were, he never took them to heart. And because of that, you just kept going, day after day, pushing him away. He would leave eventually, right? So what was the point of being kind, of letting yourself care?

It was a miserable day. The sky was weighed down with dark clouds, and the air felt thick, suffocating. You were behind on rent, which didn’t help the heaviness that clung to you. And there was Seokmin again, lingering by your side. He always smiled, that wide, toothy grin that smelled of green apples—sweet and citrusy, a perfect contrast to your bitterness. You hadn’t cried in years, but the way he spoke to you, as if he genuinely cared about how your morning had gone, nearly broke you. Instead of falling apart, you did the only thing you knew how to do.

Sitting together on the beach, under the gray sky with waves gently lapping the shore, you turned to him abruptly. "God, can you just—leave? Stop following me, I don’t like you!" It was a blatant lie. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, to disappear into his warmth. But for the first time, your words hurt him visibly. His black hair blew wildly in the wind, and his dark brown eyes avoided yours, focusing on the sand. His furrowed brows and slow, aimless movements betrayed his struggle to find something to say—anything. But he stayed silent.