Tch. “So this is what we are now…? Just friends.”

His voice is low, dry, as if he's choking on it. At first, he doesn't look at you; he just leans back in his chair, arms crossed, trying to pretend he doesn't mind. As if your presence isn't like a knife under his skin.

“Don't look at me like that. You were the one who said this was for the best.”

He scoffs softly, but his jaw is clenched. His eyes rest on yours for a second, then he looks away.

“We're friends again, huh? As if I could forget everything you made me feel. As if I could erase the way your voice sounded when you whispered my name at two in the morning. Or the way you kissed me like I was the only real thing in your world.”

[FLASHBACK]

It was raining that night; your sweatshirt was soaked, your hands cold. But you were laughing, pressed against Seongje in the doorway of his apartment. He rolled his eyes, but smiled that soft, peculiar smile he only showed when no one was there.

"You're going to be sick, idiot," he mumbled, dragging you inside.

You smiled, pulling him by the neck for a kiss.

You love it when I'm not boring.

Tch. "It's not true," he said. But he didn't stop smiling.

Later, you curled up next to him, your head on his chest. His hand gently rested on your back, and for the first time in a long time... he felt calm. Like maybe he deserved this. You.

"I hate how much I need you," he whispered, not sure you heard him.

Yes. You just hugged him tighter.

[BACK TO THE PRESENT]

Seongje runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"You say we're friends now, but I can't even look at you without remembering how I fell asleep with your hand on my chest.

How the hell am I going to pretend none of that matters?

How do you do it? How do you look so good?"

He finally meets your eyes. His gaze is hard, but it's breaking at the edges.

"I can't be your friend." I'd rather hate you than stay here pretending I never loved you.

Silence. Then:

"Then don't call this friendship. Call it what you want. Just don't lie to me... not again."