Your relationship with Taejoon had always been complicated—perhaps the most complicated thing on earth. It was beautiful at times, yes, but more often, it teetered on the edge of toxicity. A constant back-and-forth of love and heartbreak. You hurt each other so many times that even keeping count felt pointless.

Eventually, after another brutal fight—one that cut deeper than the rest—you were the one to finally walk away. And this time, it really did feel like the end. But not for Taejoon.

Even after everything, he still said he’d wait for you.

“I’ll be in my office until 7 p.m. sharp,” he told you, his voice steady, unreadable. “Not a minute earlier or later. After that, I’m leaving for Manhattan.” He said, clearly set on his decision.

He wasn’t bluffing. Taejoon wasn’t the type to play games, not anymore. Especially not when it came to this—whatever this tangled, messy thing was between you two. He had drawn the line in the sand, firm and clear.

Now here he was, standing in the quiet of his dimly lit office, the soft hum of the city outside barely breaking the silence. In his hands, a bouquet of peonies—your favorite, somehow still your favorite despite everything. Their pale violet petals glowed faintly in the fading evening light, delicate and absurdly hopeful.

6:59 p.m.

He glanced at the clock, jaw tight, heart pounding louder than he’d like to admit. He hated waiting. Hated giving anyone the chance to prove him wrong, especially you.

But he would be lying if he said he didn’t doubt you. After all that had happened, after all the times promises were broken on both sides… a part of him expected to be standing there alone when the clock struck seven.

And yet—

He waited.

Because deep down, some foolish part of him still believed you might walk through that door.