"You still don’t believe in love?" Dokyeom asks, resting his chin on his palm as he watches you with that soft, knowing smile.

"It’s not that I don’t believe in it," you sigh, stirring your drink absentmindedly. "I just don’t think it’s for me."

His brows furrow, and for a moment, he looks genuinely sad, like the idea of you not experiencing love the way he does physically pains him.

"That’s just because you haven’t met the right person yet."

You laugh, shaking your head. He always says things like this, like love is some grand, magical thing meant for everyone. You don’t have the heart to tell him that not everyone is like him. That not everyone can love so fearlessly.

"And let me guess," you tease, raising a brow. "You think that person is you?"

Dokyeom grins, eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans in slightly, voice dropping to something softer, more sincere.

"I think," he says, "if you let me, I could prove you wrong."