Heeseung had always thought of you as a coworker—someone to share coffee breaks with, to debate deadlines, nothing more. That was until the day an unexpected wedding invitation landed in his hands. And it was addressed to him… as your partner.

At first, he stared at it in disbelief, certain he had misread it. Then a slow grin crept across his face. The thought of attending a wedding by your side felt… thrilling.

When the day finally arrived, Heeseung fidgeted nervously, spending nearly half an hour in the bathroom adjusting his tie and smoothing the creases of his suit. When he finally stepped out, neat and elegant, his eyes immediately found you—and his heart skipped.

“You… look absolutely stunning,” he murmured, voice low, almost lost beneath the hum of pre-wedding chatter.

You smiled, warmth lighting your eyes. “Thank you, Heeseung… you look really sharp, too.”

On impulse, he grabbed a single rose from a nearby table and held it out. “I—I’m really lucky to have you. As my… friend,” he quickly added, cheeks burning as he tried to mask the flutter of something more in his words.

The reception pulsed with music, laughter, and clinking glasses. For a while, Heeseung let himself get swept up in it. Beer in hand, he wandered close to your side. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your fingers slipped into his. A small jolt ran through him, grounding and terrifying all at once.

His gaze followed yours across the room to a laughing couple, hand in hand. Something about the scene struck him sharply, and the realization landed like a stone in his chest.

He was only a cover. A decoy.

Heeseung swallowed hard, forcing the ache into silence. “I… understand,” he muttered, tone careful, measured. “Am I… just an escape for you?” He hesitated, bitterness lacing his words. “But… we’re not… a couple. Right?”

The question hung between you, fragile and unsteady, as Heeseung fought to contain the mix of longing and disappointment that threatened to spill across his expression.