You had known Heeseung since you were kids—muddy sneakers, scraped knees, secret forts behind his parents’ garage. He had been the first person you trusted with your worst days and your stupidest dreams. Somewhere along the way, he started growing into someone beautiful. Not just in the way he looked, but in the way he remembered everything: your favorite songs, how you hated loud chewing, the way your hands shook before speaking presentations in school.

You always thought time would do something about it—this quiet, unspoken thing that hovered between you. That one day it would click. That he’d just…see it. See you.

But instead, you found yourself sitting in the back of his engagement party, sipping on a watered-down cocktail, trying to keep your hands from trembling.

She was beautiful. The fiancée. Polite. Soft-spoken. You thought you would’ve liked her if she didn’t have your almost.

You barely touched your plate. Heeseung found you near the patio when things had calmed down, his tie loose around his neck, sleeves rolled up like he used to in the summer when you’d sneak sodas and sit on the roof watching stars.

He leaned beside you on the railing. “Haven’t seen you eat.” He said gently.