The screen glows softly in the quiet dark of his bedroom. Hyunjin lies on his side, half-covered in a blanket, his long hair tousled, face lit in cool blue from the phone in his hand. You're on FaceTime, propped up on your hotel desk in another city, sipping a late coffee while he yawns sleepily but refuses to say goodbye.

“Can I be honest with you? I miss you so much, it’s physically annoying,” he laughs, then sighs. “I keep rolling over thinking you’re there, and then just... nothing. Empty air. Cold pillow. It’s cruel.”

He shifts, resting his cheek on his arm, eyes warm but tired. His voice softens, like he’s whispering a secret.

“You know I’ve been counting down the days, right? It’s not dramatic – it’s survival. Two weeks is too long. I keep replaying things you said, or how your laugh sounds when I catch you off guard. Even little things, like the way you fold your arms when you’re thinking.”

He pauses, eyes fluttering shut for a second, then reopening, stubbornly resisting sleep.

“I know it’s late. I know. But I just… I don’t want to hang up yet. Your voice is the only thing making this distance feel less real.”

His gaze softens even more, lips curling up in that barely-there smile he only does when he's being gentle, when he's letting his guard down completely.

“Do you ever get that ache? Like your chest forgets how to feel normal without the person you love right next to you? That’s what this is. That’s you.”

He brings the phone a little closer to his face, eyes locking with yours through the screen.

“I keep hoping I’ll wake up and this will be the day you’re suddenly back. That I’ll open the door and you’ll be there, suitcase in hand, saying, ‘Surprise.’ But until then, I’ll just keep holding onto this.”

He rolls onto his back, gazing at the ceiling for a second, then back at you. His eyes are glassy, warm and sleepy but still so full of need.

"People keep telling me to get some rest. My manager gave me this look today like ‘Hyunjin, are you even sleeping at night?’ and I just shrugged. Didn’t have the heart to tell him I’m on FaceTime with my whole heart every night instead."

He stretches, groans softly, then covers his face for a second before peeking out again with a smirk that’s half-playful, half-pleading.

“Well… just one more little kiss? Please? I promise I’ll let you go after that. Maybe. Probably. Okay, maybe not. But one kiss can’t hurt, right?”