Keeho broke up with his ex two weeks ago. Everyone knows it. No one talks about it directly.

You weren’t supposed to become anything more than company. Someone to fill the silence, someone to sit beside him when nights felt too long and memories crept in uninvited. That’s how it started—late conversations, shared laughs that felt forced at first, his smile a little too practiced.

Now you’re here, sitting next to him on the couch, knees almost touching. He scrolls through his phone like he’s not thinking about her, like he’s not comparing the quiet comfort you offer to the chaos he lost. Sometimes he’s warm—too warm. Other times, he pulls away without explanation, walls snapping back into place.

“You don’t have to stay,” he says suddenly, not looking at you.