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Chapter twenty seven

"I still can't believe you're trusting me with this"I say, holding the dye brush like a surgeon preparing for brain surgery

Jake laughs from where he's sitting on the stool in his bathroom, a black towel draped dramatically over his shoulderss

"Come on, Haerin, you watched like five tutorials. You're basically a professional now"

"I watched three" I correct him

"And one of them was a dog getting dyed pastel pink"

He grins, tipping his head back a little, "Still counts."

His hair is damp, freshly washed, and it smells like eucalyptus shampoo

The dye box sits open on the counter, a soft ash-blonde color that he swore he's wanted to try for months

I snap on the plastic gloves and mix the dye in the little bowl, trying not to let the nerves in my chest show

"You sure about this?" I ask again

Jake smiles, more gently this time, "I trust you."

That phrase hits harder than it should.

I part his hair and start brushing the dye on carefully, section by section

He closes his eyes, humming softly to a song that's playing faintly from his phone

"I feel like this is how best friends in dramas bond," he says after a moment, "You know, hair dye, emotional breakdowns, tears in the sink"

"You planning to cry on me, Sim Jake?"

"Nah, not today, unless you bleach my scalp off"

I laugh, brushing more dye into the back of his hair. The motion is oddly soothing—something repetitive and focused, like for once, I'm doing something right

The air feels warm, safe

Then his phone buzzes on the counter, the screen lights up with a name that twists something deep in my stomach

Heeseung

Jake glances up at me, then at the phone, "Should I get that?"

I shrug, keeping my tone light, "It's your scalp on the line, not mine"

He chuckles and wipes one hand on the towel before answering, "Yo, what's up?"

I keep working, pretending not to listen, even though every part of me tenses

"Yeah, I'm just at my place" Jake says, then adds casually, "Haerin's here. She's dying my hair"

There's a pause

A long one

Jake pulls the phone away slightly, looking at the screen, "Hello?"

Then he sighs, "He hung up."

I stop brushing. "He what?"

"Didn't say anything, just hung up" He sets his phone back down beside the sink

My hands drop into my lap, gloves still sticky with dye

I don't know why it hits me like that—why the sound of silence through a phone can echo louder than anything else

"Oh" I say, it's the only word that makes it out

Jake turns slightly on the stool to look at me, "You okay?"

I nod, a bit too quickly, "Yeah. Just... weird, that's all"

But the truth is, it's not weird— not really— it's expected

Jake doesn't press. He never does. He just gives me this quiet look, the kind that says you don't have to lie to me, but also I won't make you say anything you're not ready to

I pick up the brush again

"I'm not ruining your hair over a boy" I mutter, and he laughs—thank God—for breaking the heaviness that started creeping in

Twenty minutes later, his hair is wrapped in cling film, and we're sitting on the couch watching some cheesy variety show with subtitles that barely make sense

The bathroom smells like bleach and something citrusy, and my gloves are finally off

But I can't stop thinking about it

About the tone Jake used. Casual. Honest

Like it wasn't supposed to be a big deal

About how Heeseung didn't say anything, not even okay or cool or talk later

Just a click, a wall going up

Jake glances at me again between bites of instant tteokbokki, "You don't need to read into it, you know"

"I'm not"

"You are"

I sigh, "Fine. Maybe I am. But I don't get it. Why does he care? He's the one who ignored me. He's the one who pulled away

"Exactly"

I blink at him, "What?"

Jake leans back, staring at the TV but clearly not watching it, "Heeseung gets like this when he's scared. And I think you scared him."

"How?"

"By mattering" Jake says simply, "By being someone he can't push away without feeling it"

"I mean your kinda living with him" To those words i slap his shoulder

"He offered! It's not like I thought I was gonna be some ghost in his house"

When we rinse the dye out an hour later, Jake's hair is perfect. Light, almost golden under the bathroom light

"You actually pulled it off" he says, staring into the mirror, beaming

I smile, but it's a little weak, "Told you. I'm a professional."

He turns to me, a towel still around his neck. "Hey, thanks for today"

I meet his eyes, grateful

"Really got my mind of Ha-Yeon"

"Yeah, of course" I reply

"Your turn?" He holds up the box of bleach with a grin on his face

"No thanks! My parents would kill me" He sets down the box and looks in the mirror again

"Well you kinda aren't living with them at the moment" His hands twirl his freshly washed and dyed hair, my only response is a slap to the back of his head

I love this chapter, I love Jake and Haerin!!

-K