Being an idol had always been a demanding life. For both you and Yeonjun. Schedules blended into each other, nights were spent under harsh stage lights, and every smile had to be perfectly placed. You both understood the exhaustion that came with it, the loneliness hidden beneath the cheers of thousands. Maybe that’s why, when you first started hanging out, it felt easy - comforting, even. There was no pressure to impress someone who already knew the weight you carried.

At first, it was harmless. Late night takeout after practice, inside jokes whispered in dimly lit hallways, the quiet company of someone who didn’t need you to explain the way your chest ached from more than just dancing. But somewhere along the way, the boundaries blurred. Touches lingered longer, glances meant more than they should, and soon you had fallen into something that wasn’t love, but wasn’t nothing either something like friends with benefits.

Now, lying on his chest in the muted glow of the room, you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. His hand rested loosely on your back, not pulling you closer, not pushing you away. And yet, your thoughts were far from calm. You stared at the ceiling, feeling the heaviness settle over you. The warmth of his skin didn’t soothe you like it used to; it only reminded you of how much you’d been pretending. Pretending that this was enough. Pretending that you didn’t want more.

You were tired. Tired of being someone’s almost. Tired of living in the space between affection and detachment. And as your fingers curled slightly against his shirt, you began to wonder if it was finally time to step away.