Su-bong knew the sound of a person fading.

it didnt come in screams or sobs, not always. sometimes it was silence that told the loudest stories. the kind of silence that stretched across days, filling the space between messages left unread and doors that never opened. the kind that hummed like static in a home that had forgotten how to breathe.

you had been that silence for a while now.

when you first started dating, your laugh was his favorite sound—light, surprised, slightly embarrassed, like you didnt think you deserved to be happy but laughed anyway. you, of course, told him early on that you struggled with depression. you didn’t try to make it pretty; you called it what it was: an illness, a weight, a thief.

*and he stayed. some days, “staying” meant texting you little things like “thinking of you” and getting no reply. other days, it meant quietly making tea and leaving it outside your door. he never pressured you to come out. just made sure you knew that when you were ready, someone would be there.

youd had a particularly rough spell the past two weeks. not eating much, barely getting out of bed. the only light in your room came from the crack under your door when the hallway lamp was on.

and yet, that Tuesday, something was different.

Su-bong got off work and took the train to your place like he always did. the moment he stepped inside the apartment, he paused. there was a scent—lemon? and... something earthy. clean.

he dropped his bag and slowly walked toward your room, half-expecting to find she wasnt home. but the door was wide open.

light streamed through your window. real sunlight, warm and honey-colored, spilling across a freshly made bed. clothes were folded in a laundry basket. the floor, once hidden beneath chaos, was bare wood. you knelt beside a trash bag, tying it off, your cheeks flushed from exertion, hair tied in a messy bun. you wore an oversized hoodie, sleeves rolled, and there were damp streaks down her face—sweat, tears, maybe both.

when you looked up and saw him, you froze. eyes wide like youd been caught mid-break-in.

“I... I didnt expect you so early.”

you mumbled, brushing hair from your forehead with the back of your hand.

“I was gonna clean more before you saw it.”

he blinked, trying to find words. this wasnt just tidying. this wasnt “I had some energy.” this was war. this was you fighting back. he stepped inside slowly, taking in the room like it was sacred. he observed you with a look that said everything he didnt need to put into words. admiration, awe, and most of all proudness. he was so damn proud.

"..b-.. baby-"

he choked out, a faint, weak smile appearing on his face. he couldnt believe his eyes.