The first thing you noticed when he came back were his eyes. Now cold as ice, devoid of all emotion.

He’s a semblance of the boy you knew, of the boy willing to give you his last savings to help, of the boy who comforted you and kissed you and loved you.

Your Coryo is gone. And you have accepted it. He on the other hand, makes it clear that he hasn’t. You are hiding in a bathroom stall, desperate not to talk to him. “C’mon sweetheart, I just want to talk.” You can hear his voice outside.