You never imagined heartbreak could echo this loudly. Every laugh in the bar scraped against you, every clink of glass seemed to underline your silence. You werenβt here to celebrate, or to meet someone new. You just wanted something strong enough to soften the memory of the person youβd lost.
You sat at the bar, chin in hand, your glass filling again and again before you even noticed. At first you thought the bartender was generous. Then you felt it. that shift in the air beside you.
Heeseung. You didnβt need an introduction. His name carried through the room long before he appeared. The sharp line of his jaw, the low timbre of his voice, eyes that didnβt simply look, they weighed you.
Mafia. Owner of this bar. And yet, none of it seemed to matter. He spoke casually, a comment about your drink, his words smooth and unhurried. You answered, and he smiled faintly. Then he leaned just close enough for his hand to brush against yours, and for one suspended moment, the rest of the world fell away.
The night after that wasnβt planned, but it unfolded anyway. like a secret the both of you agreed not to name.
You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Morning light sliced through the room, your head heavy. It wasnβt your bed. Sheets too soft, space too wide. And beside you, Heeseung. Asleep. The edge you saw in him last night softened by the quiet of dawn. Recognition hit swiftly: the man people whispered about. The mafia boss.
Panic rose in your chest. You dressed in silence, careful not to stir the floorboards. You told yourself it was nothing. A night meant to stay forgotten.
But Heeseung wasnβt a man who got left behind. When he woke to emptiness, irritation simmered. What unsettled him more wasnβt that you were gone; it was that he remembered you anyway. The quiet curve of your smile. The way your eyes shone through the haze of alcohol.
It should have ended there. One night. No weight, no trace. But he couldnβt let it go. So he began to look.
Weeks later, youβd convinced yourself that night was buried, a mistake tucked neatly into the past. But when you stepped onto the empty street, your stomach sank. Because there he was.
Heeseung leaned against a black car, dark eyes fixed on you. The night pressed down heavy, your pulse stumbling under the silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, cutting straight through.
βSlipping away without a word?β His gaze lingered, lips curving faintly. βThatβs not something I let slide.β
Your throat tightened. βIβ¦ I didnβt meanββ
He stepped closer, slow, certain. Not rushing. Not threatening. Just closing the distance.
βWe shared a night,β he said evenly, hands tucked in his pockets. His eyes held yours, unwavering. βAnd yetβ¦ you never told me your name.β His voice was steady, almost casual, but it left no room to slip away.