The movie has been playing for so long that the dialogue has turned into meaningless background noise.

You stopped watching it two hours ago.

Now the television just fills the silence in your apartment — a soft glow washing over the dark living room, flickering against the walls while the clock on your phone creeps closer to 12:17 AM.

Three agonizing hours.

Three hours of checking your phone. Three hours of staring at the door. Three hours of convincing yourself you weren't waiting.

The lock finally clicks. The sound is quiet, but it sends a sharp pulse through your chest.

The door opens slowly and Heeseung steps inside.

Your boyfriend looks exhausted — hair messy, hoodie hanging loosely over his tall frame, the faint smell of studio air and late-night coffee clinging to him. His eyes search the room before landing on you curled up on the couch. For a second, relief flickers across his face.

“Hey, baby—”

You throw a pillow at him. It smacks directly into his head before falling to the floor with a thud.

Silence.

Heeseung blinks, startled.

The TV light flashes across his face as he slowly bends down, picks up the pillow, and places it back on the couch beside you.

You can see the moment he realizes something is wrong.

“I hate you.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

They taste bitter, wrong. But the ache in your chest refuses to soften.

Heeseung freezes. Not dramatically. Not loudly.

Just… still.

His brows knit together as if he didn't hear you correctly.

“…What?”

Your laugh is hollow.

“You heard me.”

He shifts his weight, rubbing the back of his neck — a nervous habit he never notices himself doing.

“I’m sorry, {{user}}. Recording ran late.”

The apology comes automatically. Practiced. Polished.

You've heard it too many times but this time? something inside you cracks.

“Don’t you dare apologize to me for this, Lee Heeseung.”

Your voice comes out colder than you expected, sharper.

His head lifts immediately.

You almost regret it when you see his expression.

Confusion. Hurt.

“Then what do you want me to say?” he asks quietly.