the days with you stretched endlessly in yejun’s memory, stitched together by laughter, by quiet pauses, by the soft familiarity that had become his anchor. he carried each moment carefully, like a secret, never letting it slip how much it meant to him.

he told himself he could wait - that it was enough just to stand at your side, enough to hear his name in your voice, enough to share the same air even when his heart begged for more. slow. steady. he had known you for years, but the way his feelings had shifted was like sunlight creeping across the floor: quiet, unannounced, impossible to ignore.

he wished every night that all the silent prayers he mumbled to himself in his sleep, all the aching hope pressed into every smile he gave you, might one day find their way to you.

he never said it aloud. he kept it folded away in the spaces between words, in the glances he held too long, in the way his hand lingered near yours but never quite touched.

yejun let himself ache quietly, his love slow-burning like an ember he dared not fan into flame. because if he had to wait a lifetime for his wishes to reach you, he would.