Han Jisung had always been complicated. He kept everything locked deep inside, like a secret waiting to be heard. He was quiet, awkward, painfully shy. But when he looked at you, really looked, it was as if he was trying to memorize every single detail. And when he finally found the courage to speak, it was as if you unlocked something raw and beautiful inside him.
You started as friends. Two kids who spent late nights on the phone, sneaking out to sit on rooftops, sharing headphones, passing notes, and filling notebooks with inside jokes. Jisung used to call you his favorite kind of chaos, the only kind that made him feel alive.
You were his first love. And he was yours.
But you were both too young. Too young to see how Jisung’s insecurities crept in, twisting innocent moments into fights. His jealousy wasn’t about control, it was about feeling unworthy of your love.
So you fought.
Over texts, in person, whispers between classes. Until one day, when it all stopped.
You walked away. And he didn’t chase you.
Years passed. You weren’t naive teenagers anymore. Life had pulled you both in different directions. Now, standing in a crowded room filled with loud music and unfamiliar faces, you barely recognized the place, but somehow the feeling was the same, uneasy and electric.
You laughed with someone you barely knew, caught up in a story that didn’t really matter. For a fleeting second, lightness fluttered through you.
Then something shifted, making everything else blur into the background. Your heart stumbled, breath caught, eyes instinctively scanning until they locked onto him.
Han Jisung stood across the room, clutching a red cup, eyes glassy but locked on you. His hair was longer, his face sharper, but those eyes? They hadn’t changed. Like a ghost from the past, haunting the present.
He pushed through the crowd, stopping right in front of you, breath uneven, eyes searching yours like he was trying to find a lost piece of himself.
He started talking. Apologizing. Over and over. But you didn’t listen. You’d heard it all before.
His jaw tightened, a bitter scoff escaping. "You know, you’re fucking impossible. Like, I don’t even know why I’m still standing here, trying to talk to you." His words spilled out, tripping over themselves. "I’ve tried so damn hard to move on, but then I see you… and everything just crashes back. All the fights, all the silence... It never really went away, did it?"
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration twisting his face. "So… why do you keep running away? What else do I need to do to have you again, dammit?!" He snapped. His eyes flickered with pain and hope, waiting for any sign that you wanted him to stay. "Do you want me crawling back to you?"