45| Cheesecake (Han)

The fluorescent lights overhead buzz faintly, a dull hum blending into the monotonous drone of the professor's lecture. The words barely register. Minji stares blankly at the open notebook on her desk, pen slack between her fingers. The lines blur together, shifting in and out of focus as a dull, throbbing ache pulses behind her eyes.

Her head hurts. Her temples pound with each heartbeat, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her shoulders. She feels off—weak, nauseous, like she's been hollowed out from the inside. The empty pit in her stomach isn't from hunger. She hasn't eaten all day, but food feels irrelevant, unnecessary when everything inside her is already aching.

She grips her pen tighter, forcing herself to focus, but the professor's words slip through her like water through cupped hands. The air feels thick, suffocating, pressing against her chest. Her pulse rings in her ears, an erratic rhythm she can't control.

Breathe, Minji. But even that feels like a struggle.

She barely notices the class coming to an end until the sound of books closing and chairs scraping against the floor drags her back to reality. Students shuffle around her, chatting, laughing, making plans for the weekend. Their voices are distant, muffled, like they exist in a world separate from hers.

Minji starts putting her things away as well, the blank paper in her notebook mocking her before she snaps it shut. She's about to swing her bag over her shoulder when her professor calls her name.

"Park Minji, don't leave yet. I need to speak with you."

A few students glance at her as they file out, murmuring amongst themselves. She ignores them, her fingers tightening around the handle of the bag. Her pulse quickens.

Slowly, legs unsteady beneath her, she makes her way to the front of the classroom. The moment she reaches the desk, a stack of papers is thrown down in front of her. The sharp slap of them hitting the surface makes her flinch.

"What is this?" Her professor's voice is sharp.

Minji stares at the papers, recognizing her own handwriting, her own work. Her chest tightens. "M-my exams," she forces out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her professor scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are they?" He repeats, voice dripping with disdain. "Because the grades on them do not seem like they should be yours."

Minji swallows thickly, shame coiling in her stomach like a living thing. She doesn't need to look at the scores to know they're bad. She knew she hadn't done well the moment she turned them in, but seeing her failure thrown in her face like this makes her skin crawl.

"I'm sorry, sir, I—"

"I don't care for whatever excuse you have," his voice cuts through hers like a blade, sharp and merciless. "This is unacceptable. You barely qualified for a passing grade. Barely. What have you been doing this whole time? Are you taking your scholarship for granted?"

Her breath catches. "No! Not at all! I'm very grateful for it, but—"

"Then start acting like it!"

She clenches her fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. The lump in her throat burns, but she forces it down.

"Get your shit together, Park," he glares at her, eyes cold and unimpressed. "If you fail to impress me next semester, you can kiss your scholarship goodbye. There are much more deserving students who could take your place."

Minji bows deeply, her nails pressing harder into her palms. "U-understood, sir."

"Go home and study," he waves her off dismissively, already looking back at his laptop. "I expect your assignment to be delivered early so I can properly review your progress."

She hesitates. She needs this grade. Needs to fix this. But she also needs to work.

"I apologize, sir, but I—I have a shift at my job right now and I work all day tomorrow as well—"

"Make it work," his tone is final, unyielding. "I want it on my desk Monday morning. No later, or I'll mark it as non-delivered, and you will fail."

Her body locks up. She can't afford a failing grade.

"Yes," she whispers, eyes squeezing shut. Her voice wavers, but she bows again. "Understood, sir."

Her legs feel unsteady as she turns away. Her head is spinning, her stomach churning with nausea. She walks out of the classroom stiffly, barely holding herself together as the weight of everything presses down on her, threatening to crush her entirely.

The hallway is nearly empty, the usual hum of conversation from lingering students reduced to distant echoes. The overhead lights seem too bright, the white tiles beneath her feet too clean, too sterile—everything around her feels unbearably sharp, as if the world itself is pressing down on her, digging into her skin.

Her body moves on autopilot, her feet carrying her down the corridor, but her mind is somewhere else, trapped beneath the weight of her professor's words.

"Get your shit together, Park."

"There are much more deserving students."

"Make it work."

She grips the strap of her bag tightly, her knuckles turning white. She is trying—trying so damn hard. She's given everything to keep up, to hold onto the life she's built for herself, but it's like the harder she pushes, the further everything slips from her grasp.

Her vision blurs slightly, the walls closing in around her. It's been like this for a while now—one blow after another, each one leaving her more unsteady than the last. It was supposed to get easier. After that day, after she made that choice...

Minji swallows hard, shutting her eyes for a moment. No. She won't think about that. She can't. A shaky breath escapes her lips, and she lifts a trembling hand to her face. That's when she feels it—the wetness against her fingertips.

I'm crying? She hadn't even noticed. Quickly, she wipes at her cheeks, brushing away the evidence before anyone can see. She can't fall apart here. Not now.

With a deep breath, she forces herself to check her phone. Shit. She's almost late for work.

Her chest tightens as she quickens her pace, her feet barely touching the ground as she rushes through the building. She has no time for this. No time to be weak.

She barely even registers the world around her as she pushes through the doors and into the cold evening air, her breath coming out in unsteady puffs.

The bus stop is just down the street, and she sees the familiar shape of her bus pulling in. Relief barely has a chance to settle before the doors snap shut, and it starts to pull away.

No—!

Minji runs. She doesn't think, she just moves, sprinting down the pavement, her lungs burning, her bag bouncing against her back. Her legs ache from the long day, her body screams at her to stop, but she pushes forward, reaching out—

But it's too late. The bus turns the corner, disappearing down the road. Minji stumbles to a stop, her breath ragged, her entire body trembling. The weight of everything slams into her at once.

This is too much. Her vision blurs again, and for a split second, she feels herself teetering on the edge of completely breaking down, right there on the sidewalk.

But she doesn't. With a sharp inhale, she forces herself to stand straight. She clenches her fists, digs her nails into her palm, anything to ground herself. This isn't the end of the world. She'll find another way. She has to.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she quickly checks her phone, her fingers unsteady as she searches for an alternate route. A deep, steadying breath, and then she moves, pushing through the exhaustion, the frustration, the pain.

She doesn't have time to fall apart. Not yet.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The chime of the convenience store's doorbell barely finishes ringing before Minji rushes inside, her breath short and uneven from running. The bright fluorescent lights sting her already aching eyes, and the artificial coolness of the store's AC sends a chill down her spine, making her realize just how damp her skin is from the rush to get here.

She barely has time to catch her breath before she hears a sharp, irritated voice calling her name.

"Park Minji."

She winces.

Her manager stands near the counter, his arms crossed, his gaze cold and sharp as it lands on her disheveled figure. She bows immediately, her voice coming out breathless.

"I'm so sorry, sir—I missed my bus and—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses," his tone is clipped, impatient. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Minji flinches, lowering her head further. "I—I know, sir. I sincerely apologize."

Her manager exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "You've been treading a thin line lately, Minji. I let it slide before, but clearly, I've been too lenient with you."

She clenches her hands into fists, fingernails digging into her palms. "I promise it won't happen again," she says quickly, forcing her voice to stay steady.

But he isn't done.

"And what is this?" he gestures vaguely toward her with an expression of distaste. "Do you think this is an acceptable way to show up for work?"

Minji blinks, confused, before glancing down at herself.

She looks the same as she always does—worn-out jeans, an oversized sweater that hangs a little too loosely over her frame, sneakers she's had for years.

Then she realizes, belatedly, that the fabric of her pants is wrinkled from sitting in class all day, the cuffs covered in mud sprinkles from her running, a loose thread is sticking out from the hem of her sleeve, and she has coffee stains on the side of her hip.

Before she can say anything, her manager scoffs.

"You're going to scare away the customers looking like that," his voice is sharp, cutting straight through her. "Fix yourself up before you step out on the floor. If you can't even look like you're taking this job seriously, then maybe I should reconsider how much I'm paying you."

Her stomach plummets. She needs this job. She needs the money.

She bows deeply again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, sir. I'll do better."

There's a long pause before he clicks his tongue. "I'll be watching. Don't test my patience, Minji," with that, he turns and leaves the store for the day.

She releases a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to steady herself.

"Hey."

Minji blinks up, startled, as one of her coworkers, Hyunwoo, steps closer. He's a few years older than her, a college student like herself, but far more laid-back about everything in life. She can see the pity in his eyes, and it only makes her throat tighten further.

"Don't worry about the counter," he says casually, but his tone is kind. "I'll take care of the front. Just go in the back and do the stock updates today."

Her lips part slightly, her hands trembling as she struggles to form words. He's giving her a way out—a chance to breathe.

"Hyunwoo-ssi, I—"

"It's fine," he cuts her off, waving a dismissive hand. "Just go."

She inhales sharply, biting down on her lower lip as she nods. "Thank you," she whispers, bowing slightly before slipping into the backroom.

The employee locker room is small, just a narrow space with old, scratched-up lockers and a metal bench in the center. The hum of the AC fills the silence as Minji moves toward her locker, hands still trembling slightly as she works the combination lock open.

She moves on autopilot, taking off her uniform, slipping off her sweater, changing into the gray polo shirt and black apron. But when she turns to the small mirror hanging on the inside of her locker door, she stops.

She stares. And a stranger stares back.

Her face is pale, almost sickly, her skin dull and lifeless under the fluorescent lighting. Her dark circles are so deep that they nearly resemble bruises, stark against the hollow planes of her face.

The slight plumpness her cheeks used to have is gone, leaving them sharp, sunken. Her lips are chapped, barely retaining their natural pink hue. Her hair, once smooth and full, now hangs in frizzy strands, brittle and dry from weeks of neglect.

When was the last time she actually cared about her appearance? Put on some lip balm, fixed her hair, put on a cute outfit— felt like herself?

She doesn't remember. And, worst of all, she doesn't have the energy to care.

With a blank expression, she pulls her hair into a low ponytail, tucks her bangs back with a couple clips, and shuts her locker with a dull clang.

She doesn't have time for this. There's work to do.

So she turns, stepping away from the mirror, and drowns herself in the pile of tasks waiting for her—anything to keep from thinking, to keep from feeling.

Minji mechanically scans the rows of stacked products, pen tapping absently against her clipboard. The numbers blur together, expiration dates barely registering as she jots them down, her handwriting messy, uneven.

The work is easy—mind-numbingly simple, actually. It should be a relief to not have to think too hard, to just go through the motions, but the silence is unbearable. The dullness of it all leaves too much room in her mind, space that quickly fills with things she doesn't want to think about.

With a quiet sigh, she tries to shift her focus elsewhere. The assignment. She hasn't even started it yet, and it's due Monday. There's no time to waste. If she doesn't at least start it tomorrow, she won't be able to finish—

But her thoughts betray her, slipping from her grasp like sand between her fingers. Because all she can think about is him.

It's been nearly a month. Almost four weeks since that night. Since she shattered him.

Her grip on the clipboard tightens. Don't do this, Minji. Just focus.

But it's too late. The memories creep in, slipping under her skin, sinking into her bones.

She remembers the way she ran. The way her body couldn't stop moving, bolting past Changbin, who had called after her in alarm. She'd barely heard him. She couldn't hear anything past the ringing in her ears, the sound of Han's voice still raw in her head—

"A-are you breaking up with me?"

Her lungs had burned as she fled. She hadn't even realized she'd left her shoes behind until she was outside, her socked feet slamming against the pavement, snow soaking through the thin fabric. The cold didn't register. The pain in her chest was too much, suffocating, overwhelming, pushing her forward, forward, forward—

She didn't know how far she ran, only that she collapsed somewhere. Her knees hit rough gravel, her palms scraped against jagged stones, but she barely noticed the sting because she was already breaking.

She screamed. Sobbed so hard she thought she might choke, her body heaving, convulsing with the sheer force of it. And then she threw up. Right there on the sidewalk, her stomach twisting, rejecting everything inside her like it, too, wanted to rid itself of what she had just done.

The night had been long and empty after that. She hadn't gone home. She couldn't. Instead, she'd curled up on a bench in the park, shivering under the cold wind, sleepless, haunted.

And then, the next morning, she picked herself up, wiped away the remnants of her breakdown, and kept going. Because she had to.

But had things gotten better since then? No. If anything, everything is worse. She thought she was overwhelmed before, but now she feels like she's drowning.

Her body feels weaker every day, the exhaustion never-ending. No matter how much she tries to push forward, there's always more to do, more expectations weighing on her.

She had convinced herself that letting Han go would fix things. That it was the only way to free up space in her life, to take back some kind of control.

But all it did was leave her empty. And fuck, she misses him. The thought alone makes her chest cave in.

She aches for him. For his warmth, his laugh, the way he'd whine and cling to her when he was sleepy, the way his voice softened whenever he whispered her name. She wants to hear him say it again. She wants to hold him and tell him she's sorry, that she never meant to hurt him, that he was never a burden, never too much, never anything less than the best thing in her life.

But instead of loving him, she had destroyed him.

Minji swallows hard, her hands trembling as she grips the clipboard, her nails pressing into the cheap plastic surface.

The way he looked at her that night. The way his face had crumpled when she spat those horrible words at him—

"You're just a distraction. A nuisance."

Her stomach twists violently, and for a second, she actually thinks she might be sick again. Because it was a lie. A disgusting, awful, unforgivable lie.

Han was never someone she had to give attention to. He was someone she wanted to care for. She loved that he trusted her enough to lean on her, that he let her in, let her see his every emotion without hesitation. She loved that he relied on her, loved that he let her be his safe place.

And she threw it all away.

She feels like she's crumbling, like her body can barely hold itself up under the weight of her own guilt. She wishes she could take back every single word. She wishes she could take back the pain she caused him, take it all for herself instead.

But she can't. Because it's too late. She blinks rapidly, realizing her vision has gone blurry. A tear drips onto the clipboard, smudging the ink.

Shit.

She wipes at her face harshly, sniffling, trying to pull herself back together. There's no time for this. She has work to do. So with shaky hands, she flips to the next page of her inventory list and forces herself to read the numbers—again and again—until they stop looking like the curve of Han's smile.

Minji is still gripping the clipboard tightly, her knuckles white, forcing her eyes on the inventory list in front of her, willing herself to focus. But her mind is foggy, her vision blurred with the remnants of tears she hasn't fully wiped away, and her thoughts—God, her thoughts just won't stop running in circles.

"Park Minji!" the voice snaps through the air like a whip, sharp and loud, shaking her from her haze.

She startles, blinking rapidly as she looks up to find Hyunwoo standing in the doorway, arms crossed, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Y-yeah, sorry," she stammers, her voice hoarse from disuse. "Did you need something?"

Her coworker sighs, jerking his head toward the front of the store. "Some guy's asking for you."

Minji's brows knit together. "For me?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Some dude in a mask. Big eyes, really intense, kinda weird and scary."

Her stomach drops. She doesn't need to ask who it is.

Minji's blood runs cold, her body suddenly heavy, as if gravity itself is pressing down on her. She barely registers her own movements as she slowly walks toward the door, her heart slamming against her ribcage, dread curling in her gut like a thick fog.

She peeks out from the storage room, and her breath catches in her throat.

Even with his mask covering half his face, she recognizes him instantly—the broad shoulders, the impatient fingers tapping against the counter, the way his stance radiates barely contained frustration.

Then he turns. Their eyes meet. Her heart shatters. It's Lee Know. And he looks pissed.

Minji's breath stutters, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. It takes every ounce of willpower she has to not turn around and run. She's not ready for this. She doesn't want to face him. But she knows she has no choice.

She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a slow, shaky breath before lowering her head and walking toward him, her body moving like lead. When she finally stands in front of him, her throat is so tight she can barely speak.

"How can I help you, sir?" she asks quietly, her voice hollow, forced.

His brows twitch, his eyes narrow. "Cut the crap," he snaps, "What time do you clock out?"

Minji flinches. "Lee—"

"What time?" He interrupts, his voice sharp, gritted through his teeth.

She swallows. "I have a few more hours."

"Clock out for a break, then," his eyes pierce through her. "I need to speak with you."

"I can't—"

"Minji," her coworker's voice interrupts, and she turns to see him leaning against the counter, watching the exchange with thinly veiled curiosity. "Do you mind taking the trash out? Make sure there are no rats again, too."

Minji meets his gaze, and he gives her a pointed look. He's covering for her.

She exhales shakily and nods. "Got it."

Turning back to Lee Know, she meets his unreadable stare.

"Meet me in the alley behind the store," she murmurs before quickly walking away, heading for the storage room.

Her heart pounds with every step. She can feel the walls closing in, her chest tightening, her limbs tingling with the creeping sensation of panic. She doesn't want to do this.

With numb fingers, she gathers the trash bags, the sharp scent of discarded food and plastic burning her nose as she hauls them toward the back door. She pushes it open, stepping into the cool evening air, her breath misting slightly in the dim light.

And there he is. Lee Know is already waiting, standing near the dumpsters, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, his weight shifted slightly to one side. His sharp eyes track her every move as she disposes of the trash, but he doesn't say anything. Not yet.

Minji straightens, brushing her hands against her apron, her head bowed. Her pulse is a relentless drum in her ears. Then, his voice cuts through the silence.

"What the fuck happened, Minji?"

She flinches.

"I just heard you and Jisung broke up."

Hearing it spoken aloud feels like a knife to the chest. She clenches her jaw, swallowing against the ache in her throat.

"You just heard?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, Jisung won't even speak to me," Lee Know says, his voice sharp, clipped. "I had to hear it from Changbin."

Minji's chest tightens painfully. "He won't speak to you?"

Lee Know scoffs, his jaw clenching. "He won't speak to anyone. He's walking around like a zombie, spends all his free time locked in his room. All he does is work, cry, and sleep. You completely fucked him up, Minji."

Minji staggers—like she's been physically struck. Her heart plummets, the weight of his words suffocating her. This is exactly what she was afraid of.

The air in her lungs turns to lead. Her hands start to shake, her vision blurs, and a sickening wave of nausea rises in her throat. She feels like she's going to throw up, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her.

Lee Know's glare softens just slightly as he takes in her state. She looks like she's barely holding on. The bright, magnetic Minji he once knew is gone—now, she looks hollow, as if a dark cloud looms over her, draining every ounce of light she used to have.

"You have to get back together," he says, quieter this time.

"I—" her voice breaks, the words getting caught somewhere in the knot in her throat. "I can't."

"Why not?" his frustration flares again. "You're clearly not doing well without him either—why did you even break up in the first place?"

Minji squeezes her eyes shut, forcing herself to stay upright. "We're just too different. Our realities don't match up."

"This bullshit again?" Lee Know snaps. "I thought we talked about this—none of that matters."

"It does matter!" Minji's voice cracks as she grips her arms tightly, as if holding herself together. "I can't give him the care he needs—I already have too much going on."

Lee Know laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You're his girlfriend, not his mother. You don't have to baby him. Just be a good partner."

"I can't! I'm busy, and—"

"Busy? That's your excuse?" his voice is razor-sharp now. "We're all fucking busy, Minji. We all have shit we have to do, and yet somehow, every single one of us manages to have healthy relationships. So cut your crap."

"You don't understand," she grits out, pressing her palms to her face, exasperated, exhausted, crumbling. "My entire world is collapsing around me—I'm drowning in my responsibilities already. I nearly failed my exams, I'm behind on my studies, my bills are late, and I still have a mountain of work to do," her voice grows desperate, frantic, "How am I supposed to be in a relationship right now?"

"No, I don't fucking understand," Lee Know's eyes flash dangerously. "You broke my best friend's heart and ended a perfectly good relationship because you don't know how to pace yourself?"

"You don't get it!" She shouts, her voice raw as she shoves at his chest. "None of you fucking do!"

"We do get it!" He shoves her strongly against the wall behind her.

Minji gasps, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. The back of her head hits the cold brick, and for a moment, the world spins.

"You're the one who doesn't fucking get it." his voice is cold, his hands caging her in on either side of her head, his body rigid with barely contained fury.

Minji's pulse skyrockets. Her breath is shallow, rapid. She wants to look away, but he's right there, his sharp gaze locking her in place.

"It doesn't matter how busy you are," he growls. "It doesn't matter how many responsibilities you have. A partnership is about helping each other through this shit. It's about sharing struggles and building each other up."

Minji's lip trembles, but she can't speak. She can't breathe. Lee Know leans in even closer, his nose inches away from hers, his voice dropping to something dangerous, something that pierces through the walls she's built.

"No wonder your fucking life is falling apart and you feel like you're losing everything." his voice is low, but each word cuts. "It's because you're fucking stupid, and you push everyone away. You don't let anyone care for you like you care for everyone else."

She flinches.

"You try to take on every problem by yourself," he continues, relentless. "You want to solve everything alone, like you have to be some kind of goddamn martyr. And what do you do when people try to help you?"

His eyes darken. "You push us away."

His words feel like daggers. She can feel them slicing through her, leaving open wounds in their wake.

"How do you think that makes the people who care about you feel?" He demands, his voice shaking with intensity. "We have to watch you struggle and kill yourself over these ridiculous expectations, and all we can do is stand there because if we try to step in, you throw on that disgustingly fake smile and act like you're fine."

Minji can't stop the tears now. They spill over, streaming silently down her face. She feels like she can barely breathe; his presence is crushing, and his words are heavy in her heart. She struggles to hold his gaze, lowering her head in shame.

"You were so fucking scared of becoming a burden that you made everyone else one," he murmurs, his voice quieter but just as sharp.

He takes a deep breath, and his expression softens. His hands, once tense on the wall beside her, drop. Slowly, gently, he cups her face in his hands, forcing her to look up.

"Min," he whispers, and the anger in his eyes melts into something deeper. "Look at me."

She does, her eyes rimmed red and filled with tears.

"It doesn't have to be like this," his thumbs brush over her damp cheeks delicately. "You can ask for help. It won't make you weak, it won't make you a burden. And no one will ever think less of you."

A strangled sob tears from her throat.

"You're adored, Minji," his voice is softer now, gentler. "You're loved by everyone who knows you. And we would be more than happy to ease your struggles—if only you let us."

Minji breaks. Her body collapses into his as she sobs into his shoulder, gripping onto him like a lifeline. Lee Know immediately wraps his arms around her, pulling her in tight, his hand cradling the back of her head as if to shield her from the weight of the world.

He presses a firm kiss to the top of her head, his own breath shaky. "I'm sorry for yelling," he murmurs, actually sounding apologetic now. "But I needed you to hear me."

She hiccups against his shoulder, nodding weakly. He lets her cry. Lets her let go. And when her sobs finally subside, when her breathing steadies, he pulls back just enough to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's not too late to fix things," he says softly. "Go home and do some thinking. You're smart—I know you'll make the right decision."

She nods.

"Good," he steps back, wiping away her tears delicately. "I'll tell your coworker you were attacked by a rat or something. Don't worry about your shift."

A watery laugh escapes her. "Thanks, Min."

He grins, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before walking away. "Anytime, Min."

Minji stays in the alley for a while longer, willing herself to breathe.

Her hands tremble as she presses them against her cheeks, fingers drowning in her tears. Her entire body feels raw, like she's just been scraped against asphalt. Lee Know's words replay in her mind on a loop, each one cutting deeper, lodging themselves into the crevices of her already fractured heart.

She knows he's right. She knows. But the pressure of his truth does nothing to give her answers. It only makes the weight heavier.

Once she feels stable enough to move, she forces herself back inside, blinking rapidly to clear her red-rimmed eyes before facing her coworker.

"Yeah, don't worry," he says as soon as he sees her, "That guy came in here and basically threatened me to cover your shift. I thought he killed you out there for a second."

Minji lets out a weak, breathless laugh, shaking her head. "He's intense, but he's not a bad person. He's one of my best friends."

Hyunwoo snorts. "Well, he's fucking scary. You have some weird friends," then, with a flick of his wrist, "Now go home, you look so pitiful, I'm afraid you'll spoil all our food with your bad juju."

"Thanks," she murmurs, bowing her head slightly. "I'll make it up to you sometime."

"Just buy me a coffee or a beer, don't worry too much about it."

She nods, offering him a small, exhausted smile before disappearing into the back to change.

When she finally steps outside, the cold evening air stings against her flushed cheeks. The walk back to her dorm is slow, almost mechanical—her feet move, but her mind is numb.

Her roommate is gone for the weekend, leaving the space eerily quiet when she steps inside. She doesn't even bother turning on the lights. Instead, she just drops onto her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Her thoughts spiral, endlessly looping over everything that's happened. She knows she needs to change. She can't go on like this—juggling everything alone, pretending she's okay, pushing people away until there's no one left.

But where does she even start? She feels lost. Stuck. Trapped in a cycle she built for herself and now has no idea how to escape.

Everyone keeps telling her she's smart, but right now, she feels like the stupidest person in the world. Her throat tightens. She swallows against the lump forming there and, without giving herself the chance to hesitate, grabs her phone.

She presses the contact that has always brought her comfort. The wisest person she knows.

The call barely rings twice before a warm, familiar voice fills her ears. "Hey, puppy!"

Minji's heart clenches painfully at the sound of her grandma's voice.

"Hi, Granny," she whispers, her lips trembling.

"What's wrong, my darling?" Her voice instantly softens. "Why do you sound so sad?"

Minji clenches her fists around the fabric of her blanket, squeezing her eyes shut. "Granny, I need your help," she chokes out.

"Of course, darling," her grandma soothes. "I'm here. Did something happen?"

And just like that—her walls shatter.

"I... I don't know what to do," Minji sobs, her voice breaking completely.

Tears spill down her face, soaking into her pillow as she finally lets herself unravel. Through broken sentences, gasping breaths, and loud sniffles, she tells her everything.

The stress from school, the weight of her job, the pressure she's put on herself to be the provider for her family, the guilt, the way her body and mind feel like they're crumbling under the weight of it all.

And Han.

She tells her about him, about the breakup, about the way it left her feeling even more shattered than before. She tells her how she thought letting go would be easier. That it would make things simpler. But instead, it's only left her feeling emptier.

Her grandma listens to every word. She doesn't interrupt, doesn't tell her to stop crying, doesn't try to fix things for her. She just listens. And when Minji finally falls silent, her breath still uneven, her heart still heavy—her grandma sighs, soft and knowing.

"My dear puppy," she murmurs. "You are so smart and yet you have such silly thoughts."

Minji sniffles.

"Who says you have to be the one providing for us, my love?" She continues, her tone both gentle and firm. "We are doing just fine. Your dear old grandma might not be able to do everything I once could, but you know I get by."

Minji grips her phone tighter. "But Granny—"

"Do you remember the man with the kind eyes who works at the food stall next to my friend's booth at the county fair?"

Minji blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Yeah...?"

"Well," her grandma hums, "It's not just his eyes that are kind, but his heart as well. Whenever I went to visit my friend at the fair—which you know is often—he would give me one of his delicious bungeoppangs and sit with us to chat. And, well... one thing led to another, and... we're getting married this summer."

Minji bolts upright in bed. "What?!"

Her grandma laughs. "I was going to tell you before, but I couldn't find the right time. You know I don't like doing things over the phone. But you've been too busy to visit lately, and Minjae still doesn't like taking the train."

Minji is speechless.

After a moment, she finally manages. "I—I don't know what to say, Granny. Congratulations, I guess?"

"Thank you, darling," her voice is warm with happiness. "But the reason I'm telling you this now is because it means he is going to take care of me and Minjae. So you don't have to worry."

Minji's breath catches.

"I already haven't been using the money you send me every month," her grandma continues gently. "I've been setting it aside in a bank account. I was planning on giving it all back to you after the wedding."

Minji's heart stops. Everything stops. The weight on her chest suddenly feels different. Not gone, not fully lifted. But lighter. The air around her shifts, something unfamiliar curling around her ribs. A feeling she hasn't let herself believe in for a long, long time. Hope.

"Are you sure?" Minji's voice is barely above a whisper. "I mean, what if—"

"Do not worry, puppy," her grandmother interrupts gently, her tone as firm as it is loving. "Your grandma is smart—where do you think you got it from? I have all my bases covered, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that Minjae and I will be just fine. We'll live comfortably, without struggle. In fact, I'll even be able to help you financially if you need, darling, so if you want to quit that job of yours, please—do so."

Minji's breath catches. Her fingers clench around the fabric of her blanket, gripping it tightly as she processes her grandmother's words. Quit her job? The mere thought of it sends her mind reeling.

"I—I don't want you to use your new husband's hard-earned money on someone he doesn't even know," she murmurs, guilt curling in her stomach.

Her grandmother laughs—a warm, knowing sound. "Oh, my love, he has plenty of money. His son is a hotshot businessman. Your grandma knows how to pick them, darling," she chuckles, but there's nothing teasing in her tone—only reassurance. "And besides, he does know you. He watched you grow up, just like everyone else in this town. He is Yoonseok's grandfather."

Minji blinks, caught off guard. "Yoonseok from up the hill?" She asks. "The kid who always had a chocolate stain on his face?"

"Now we know why," her grandmother laughs, "The chocolate bungeoppangs are the best. You have to try them when you visit next."

A bittersweet smile tugs at Minji's lips, but it fades as quickly as it came. She wants to visit. She misses home. But she barely has time to breathe, let alone take a trip back.

"By the way," her grandmother continues, "I heard Yoonseok moved to Seoul as well. Have you seen him?"

"Grandma, it's a big city," Minji replies weakly.

"Oh, I know, but you kids used to play together so much. I thought maybe he'd have called you," there's a brief pause before her voice turns teasing, "I hear he's quite handsome these days... but it seems you already found someone, hmm?"

Minji stills. The warmth in her chest vanishes. Her grip on the blanket tightens again.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Jisung before," she says quietly, hesitating before continuing. "I felt guilty for dating when I was supposed to be focusing on my studies."

"Oh, puppy..." There's a twinge of sadness in her grandmother's voice now. "You shouldn't feel like that. Dating is wonderful, especially at your age. You're only young once, you know? You should enjoy it while you can. And from the way you talk about him, it sounds like you really liked him, darling. So why would you let him go?"

Minji squeezes her eyes shut. "I do really like him," she admits, her voice breaking slightly, "But we're so different. Our lives are so different."

"Does he like you?"

A lump forms in Minji's throat. "Yeah, he does," her voice is barely audible now, laced with something so heavy it nearly crushes her.

"Then that's all that matters," her grandmother says gently. "What that friend of yours, Minho, said to you was right. A relationship is about sharing life's burdens together, not hiding your struggles from each other. You shouldn't keep the ugly parts of yourself locked away. A real partner will love all of you, not just the best parts."

Minji stays silent, staring up at the ceiling, blinking back fresh tears.

"Do you really think Jisung would care about your faults?" Her grandmother asks softly.

Minji exhales shakily, covering her face with her arm. "I can't imagine so," she whispers, "He's really sweet..."

Her grandmother hums knowingly. "Then you already have your answer, my love. Give him a call. Try to work things out. Tell him how you feel—apologize, and see what he says. If he truly cares about you, he will listen. And if he can't accept a few flaws in a nearly perfect girl like you, well..." she sighs playfully, "Then he doesn't deserve you anyway."

Minji wants to believe that. She really does. But...

"I'm more afraid that I don't deserve him," she admits, her voice trembling. "I hurt him so badly. I made him feel like a burden. I shouted at him in front of his friends and then just... ran away. How could he forgive me after that?"

Tears spill onto her pillow, her heart aching in her chest. There's a long pause before her grandmother speaks again, her voice impossibly soft.

"There really isn't much you can do about that, my love," she murmurs. "You just have to apologize sincerely and hope he forgives you. But you must also respect it if he doesn't. He is entitled to his feelings just as much as you are."

Minji swallows hard, nodding even though she knows her grandmother can't see it. "Okay..." she whispers.

A moment of quiet passes between them before her grandmother sighs.

"And what about school?" she asks. "It sounds like you're having a really hard time."

Minji lets out a weak, humorless laugh. "I am," she admits. "I can barely look at my books without feeling sick."

"Then why don't you take a semester off to rest?"

Minji freezes. "I can't," she replies instantly. "I'll lose my scholarship."

"Minji, puppy," her grandmother says gently, "Do you even want to finish med school?"

Minji's breath stutters. She opens her mouth to respond—but nothing comes out.

Her grandmother sighs knowingly. "It doesn't sound like you enjoy it at all, my love."

Minji feels like a deer caught in headlights. "B-but—"

"The day you told me you got accepted into med school, I was very surprised," her grandmother continues. "I never thought you wanted to be a doctor. You've always been terrible with blood and hospitals."

Minji blinks rapidly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. "I wanted a prestigious job," she whispers. "One that would guarantee I could provide for you."

Her grandmother is silent for a long moment. Then with a voice that sounds like stifled guilt—

"Well, now you don't have to worry about that anymore, not that you ever really had to, my love... We've always been fine. Now, we're just better. So if this isn't making you happy, puppy—don't do it."

Minji grips her phone tighter. "I still have to do something," she murmurs. "I can't just quit everything and live off your husband my whole life, you know I won't have it."

Her grandmother laughs—warm, affectionate. "Oh, I know you won't, my stubborn girl. But at least do something you like. Medicine was never your dream, Minji. Blood terrifies you, and everything else seems like it just... drains you."

Minji swallows hard. "But I'm already halfway through," she whispers.

"And?" Her grandmother asks, her voice patient. "If you want to finish, I will support you every step of the way. But I need you to think about something, my love—is this truly what you want? Or have you just convinced yourself you have no other choice?"

Minji doesn't answer. Because she doesn't know.

She has spent so many years telling herself that becoming a doctor was the only path that made sense. That it was the responsible choice. That it was the only way to ensure her family's safety.

But if that isn't true anymore—

"I guess... it isn't my passion," she admits, her voice small. "I was just doing it for the money."

"Then quit."

Minji freezes. "But if I quit, I'll lose my financial support from school," she says quickly, "And my housing. I'll have nothing."

"That's not true," her grandmother reassures her softly. "You have me. I've been saving the money you've sent me for years, and I'll return every penny to you right away. And if that's not enough, I'll give you more. Find yourself a small place. Take some time to breathe, to think—to figure out what you truly want to do."

Minji's vision blurs, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

"You've taken care of me for so long, puppy," her grandmother murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "Now let Granny take care of you for a little while."

Minji lets out a soft, broken laugh, wiping her eyes. "You already took care of me, Grandma," she sniffles. "You raised me."

Her grandmother exhales, a deep, knowing sound.

"Ever since your parents died, you took on their role in this house. You were just a child, but you put your grief aside to care for me and Minjae, without hesitation. You took on burdens that were never yours, made sacrifices you should never have had to make. And even now, you're still putting everyone else first."

Minji covers her mouth, a sob escaping before she can stop it.

"My sweet girl," her grandmother says softly, "It's okay to let us take care of you now."

And just like that—something inside her cracks. The years of pressure. The constant self-sacrifice. The exhaustion. The pain. The guilt. She breaks. Minji nods—a shaky, tear-soaked nod.

"Alright," she whispers.

"Good," her grandmother soothes, her voice full of love. "Besides, you're still so young, puppy. I'm not done raising you yet."

A wet laugh bubbles from Minji's lips, full of so much relief it almost hurts. "Okay," she chuckles.

"So go ahead, my love. Do everything we talked about. I'll transfer the money to you first thing in the morning. And if you need anything else, just ask. Let me know how things go with your boyfriend, and tell me when you get an apartment. If you'd like, I can drive up to help you move—I'll have a car now, and we'll finally be able to visit you more often."

Minji smiles—for the first time in weeks.

"That sounds amazing," she says, voice lighter than it's been in a long time. "Thank you, Grandma. But it's such a long drive, and I don't have much to move, so you don't have to come. But... I'll visit you soon. As soon as I can."

"You're coming for the birthday celebrations, right?"

"Of course," Minji breathes. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good. Minjae misses you terribly. And bring your boyfriend along if things work out between you two."

Minji laughs, heart swelling at the thought. "Okay," she promises. "Tell Minjae I love her."

"I will."

"And Grandma...?"

"Yes, puppy?"

Minji closes her eyes, her chest aching—but for the first time in a long time, it's not from pain.

"Thank you for everything," she whispers. "You're the best. I love you."

"I love you too, my sweet girl," her grandmother says, her voice warm and full of endless affection. "Now get some rest, alright? You have a boy to charm tomorrow."

Minji laughs—a real, genuine laugh. "Goodnight, Grandma."

"Goodnight, puppy."

Minji hangs up—and immediately, it feels like she can breathe again. The weight on her chest eases. The unbearable pressure she's carried for years? Gone. She isn't trapped anymore. For the first time in so, so long—Minji feels hopeful.

With a sudden rush of determination, she sits up, her body buzzing with a newfound energy. She hops over to her desk, grabbing a pen and a notebook, flipping to an empty page. No more second-guessing. No more waiting for things to get better on their own. This time, she's taking control.

She writes down everything—an action plan for the future she finally allows herself to imagine.

1. Quit school.2. Find a new place to stay.3. Look for a better job.4. Figure out what she actually wants to do with her life.

And finally— the most important one:

5. Get Han back.

Her fingers tighten around the pen, her chest swelling with nervous excitement. Tomorrow, everything changes. Tomorrow, she starts over. Tomorrow... she fights for herself. And for the boy whose heart she refuses to let go.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

It's the middle of the afternoon, and Han hasn't moved from his bed since morning. The ceiling blurs in and out of focus as he stares at it blankly, his eyes bloodshot, his body too exhausted to do anything else. He isn't even crying anymore.

He can't.

He's cried so much over the last few weeks that it feels like he's wrung himself dry, but the pain hasn't stopped. If anything, it's only gotten worse. The emptiness in his chest stretches wide, aching.

His mind has settled into a quiet, numbing void. Because the second he allows himself to think, the moment he lets his guard down—he thinks of her. And his heart shatters all over again.

Minji.

Her name alone makes his throat tighten. His hands twitch at his sides, aching to reach for his phone, to type out a message, to call her—but he doesn't. He can't.

Not after what she said to him. The words from that night keep playing over and over in his head, a never-ending loop of pain that claws at his insides.

"We should have never gotten together."

His stomach twists, a sharp pang of nausea rolling through him. Had she always felt that way? Had she been miserable this whole time, and he just never noticed?

Han squeezes his eyes shut, a fresh wave of shame washing over him. He never even considered the possibility that he might lose Minji. He thought everything between them was good, that she was happy. Because he was happy.

More than happy.

She was everything to him. He counted down the minutes until he could see her again. Every little text from her, every moment spent together—it all made his world feel brighter. Better.

But now, just like that—she's gone. And he doesn't know what to do.

His fingers hover over her contact on his phone screen, her name staring back at him. His thumb twitches over the call button. Would she even pick up if he called? Or would she ignore him? Would she hate him for even trying?

Han's hands shake as he sets the phone down on the nightstand again. He bites his lip hard enough to hurt. He can't let himself call. Not when he still doesn't understand why this happened.

He thought he was a good boyfriend. He tried to be. But maybe... maybe he was just a burden to her. Maybe she had only put up with him all this time.

The thought makes his chest clench painfully. Had she ever really liked him? Or had he just been too blind to see that she was only staying out of obligation?

His stomach twists again, his thoughts spinning out of control. Every memory, every moment they spent together—it all starts to feel warped, tainted by doubt. Was any of it real? Did he force himself into her life? Did she just say yes to dating him because she felt bad for him?

A broken, pathetic sob escapes him, and Han grips his hair tightly, trying to silence himself. He can't keep thinking like this.

His members have noticed. They keep knocking on his door, keep asking him if he's okay. Changbin tries to get him to come eat. Hyunjin has asked him at least ten times if he wants to go out for fresh air.

But Han just tells them no. He locks the door, pulls the blankets over his head, and refuses to let them see him like this. Because now he's terrified. What if they get tired of him, too? What if one day, they also realize how much of a burden he is? What if they leave him, just like Minji did?

The anxiety festers inside him like a sickness, twisting and turning, making his breath feel short and his chest unbearably tight. He hates this. He hates himself for needing people so much, for never knowing how to be alone.

And yet—despite all of this, despite the pain and guilt clawing at his insides—he still misses her. More than anything. Because there's one thing Han knows for sure, one thing he doesn't have to doubt:

He loves her. He's always loved her.

Since the first time she smiled at him at the convenience store, since that night he realized he couldn't stop thinking about her, since the moment they kissed for the first time, and his world turned upside down.

Han presses his fist to his mouth, trying to swallow down the overwhelming ache. His body hurts. His chest hurts. He feels like he's falling apart without her. And the worst part is—

He has no idea if he'll ever get the chance to hold her again. To tell her I'm sorry. To ask her if she ever truly liked him, or if he was just fooling himself from the very start.

Because maybe, just maybe—she was never his to begin with.

His mind drifts.

No matter how hard he tries to keep himself in the present, to focus on anything else, his thoughts always find their way back to that night. The night she left him. The night his world ended.

It replays like a fucking nightmare, over and over, tormenting him, refusing to let him rest. Minji's voice, sharp and so unlike her, still rings in his ears.

"I just don't have the time or energy to deal with you anymore."

His breath shudders as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block it out. It doesn't work. Because after those words came the moment that destroyed him completely.

"I should go."

The memory hits him like a truck, just like it did that night. He remembers the way his heart stopped. The way his entire body froze as his brain struggled to process what he just heard. The way his lungs forgot how to breathe.

She ran.

The moment the words left her lips, she was gone, bolting toward the door like she couldn't stand to be in the same room as him for another second.

Han didn't even move. He couldn't. His body felt like it wasn't his. Like he was watching himself fall apart from outside of his own skin. His knees hit the floor—hard. But he didn't feel it. Didn't even register the pain.

Didn't register Chan calling his name beside him, his voice urgent, confused, scared. Didn't hear Changbin shouting after Minji in the hall, his voice bouncing off the walls as he tried to stop her.

Everything was silent.

Like the entire world had muted in an instant, like all the sound had been sucked from the air, leaving nothing but the hollow ringing in his ears and the crushing weight in his chest.

It wasn't until minutes later—maybe longer, time felt warped—that the silence shattered all at once. His lungs collapsed. His chest caved in. Panic clawed up his throat like a wildfire, burning, choking, consuming him.

He couldn't breathe. His hands clawed at his shirt, gripping, tearing, trying to find air that wouldn't come. His vision blurred, black spots eating away at the edges of his sight. His heart pounded so fast it felt like it was about to explode.

He felt like he was dying.

The next thing he knew, his members were all over him. Chan's voice was frantic, right next to his ear, trying to ground him, but the words weren't making sense. Changbin's hands were on his shoulders, firm but gentle, keeping him steady as his body shook violently. Hyunjin was on the phone, his voice high and panicked, asking if they should call an ambulance.

Han still couldn't breathe. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. His chest wouldn't rise properly. It took hours to calm him down. To stop the tremors in his limbs. To get him to blink again, to focus, to hear anything besides the deafening sound of his own ragged gasps.

The next morning, his body felt like it had been beaten to a pulp. His throat was raw from sobbing, his head was pounding from hyperventilating for so long, his limbs ached from how violently he'd shaken.

But none of that compared to the ache in his chest. None of it compared to the pain of waking up alone. To the pain of realizing that it wasn't a nightmare. She was really gone.

And Han didn't know if he'd ever be okay again.

He has spent weeks drowning in his own pain, but he hasn't stopped to think about why it happened. About what led them to this point. Not really. Not until now.

Not until the exhaustion starts to settle differently in his body—not just from crying, not just from overthinking, but from the heavy realization that's been lurking in the back of his mind since that night.

It creeps in slowly, piecing itself together from all the memories he's tried so hard to push away.

The first time Minji was late to one of their dates, stepping into the café with her shoulders tight and her face pale, her breath just a little too quick. He had pouted, whined about how long he had been waiting, guilt-tripping her until she apologized, promising to make it up to him. He hadn't even asked why she was late.

The night she had texted him that she was feeling off, that she wanted to rest, and he had called her anyway, begging her to come over, saying he'd feel so much better if he could just see her. She had come. But she had been quiet, curling into his side but never fully relaxing. He had thought, If I feel better, she probably does too. But maybe she had just felt trapped.

The countless times she had hesitated before answering his calls, the way her smile had become just a little less bright as time passed, the way she had started rubbing at her temples when she thought he wasn't looking.

The signs were there. He just never wanted to see them. Because he had needed her. And he had assumed that meant she needed him just as much. But the truth was—

He hadn't been a partner. He had been a burden. And he had pushed her to the point where she had no choice but to run. His stomach churns at the thought, shame curling up his throat, wrapping around his lungs.

He had been so focused on his own feelings, on his own pain, that he had never even considered hers. She had never complained. Never asked for space, never told him no. She had always been there for him, always put him first.

And he let her.

He let her exhaust herself, let her pour everything she had into making him happy without stopping to think that maybe— maybe—she was the one who needed someone to hold her up.

And now, because of him, because of how blindly selfish he had been, she had broken down. She had collapsed under the weight of it all, and he hadn't even noticed she was struggling until she was screaming at him to let her go.

A harsh, broken breath leaves his lips. He doesn't deserve her. Not as he is now. If he wants to fix this—if he even wants a chance to be in her life again—he has to change.

He has to stop expecting people to hold his hand through everything, stop assuming they exist to make his life easier. Relationships are about balance. And he had never given her that.

But he will.

He doesn't know if she'll take him back. If she'll want him back after everything. But if she gives him a chance—if she even lets him speak to her—he won't waste it.

This time, he'll be better. For her. For himself. For both of them.

Han's phone vibrates on the nightstand.

At first, he ignores it. He doesn't want to talk. Doesn't want to hear anyone's voice. Doesn't want to pretend he's okay when everything inside him is shattered beyond recognition. So he lets it ring until it stops. But then—

The buzzing starts again. And again. And again. It must have rung out a dozen times.

His brows knit together in irritation. Whoever it is, they're persistent, and it's starting to really get on his nerves. He grabs the phone, already prepared to turn it off completely. Then he sees the name on the screen.

Better than Cheesecake❤️

The breath punches out of his lungs. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind blank as he stares, unblinking. Is he hallucinating? Did he finally lose it?

The call ends, the screen goes dark, and panic grips his chest like a vice.

No, no, no, no—

He scrambles to unlock his screen, getting the password wrong and nearly letting it fall from his grip. But before he can even get into his contacts, the phone starts buzzing again. And this time, he answers.

"H-h-hello?" his voice is rough, hoarse from disuse.

A beat of silence. Then—

"Hi."

Her voice is quiet. Tentative.

Han squeezes his eyes shut, his free hand clenching into the fabric of his hoodie. He has dreamt of this moment—ached for it. But now that it's happening, he doesn't know what to do.

"W-why did you call?" his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Can we talk?"

His heart stutters.

"Hm... yeah."

"In person?"

A lump forms in his throat. "Okay."

"Can I come over to your place?"

Han's pulse pounds in his ears. His gaze flickers over his room—the discarded clothes on the floor, the empty snack wrappers, the crumpled tissues. The sheer chaos of it all.

"S-sure," he stammers, already moving to his feet, his brain struggling to catch up to the reality of what's happening.

"Good," she exhales. "Because I'm downstairs."

Han freezes. His breath lodges in his throat. "D-downstairs?"

"Yeah."

There's a pause, heavy with unspoken emotions.

"Can I come up?"

His legs are moving before he can answer. "J-just... hold on—"

He doesn't finish his sentence, because his brain has suddenly registered the absolute state of his room, and he's thrown into a blind panic.

He scrambles around, snatching up stray shirts and socks, shoving trash into the bin with trembling hands. His closet door is forced open, and he all but throws everything inside, slamming it shut before it can all spill back out. He opens the window, fanning the stale air before hastily grabbing a bottle of cologne and spritzing it wildly.

A second later, he hears the front door open and close. His heart skips a beat. He looks down—

No pants.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

He carefully opens the closet, pulling out the first pair of sweatpants he can reach, hopping on one foot as he tries to shove them on before—

A soft knock.

"Jisung?"

He nearly jumps out of his skin. He grabs the door handle, takes a deep breath, and swings it open.

Minji stands there, frozen mid-knock.

For a moment, neither of them speak. She blinks up at him, taking in his flushed face, his messy hair, the way his chest rises and falls a little too fast. Her gaze flickers past him to his room, surprised at how... clean it looks.

Meanwhile, Han is barely breathing. She's here. She's right here. For the first time in a month. And she looks—

God, she looks tired.

Her face is paler than he remembers, her frame just slightly smaller, her posture tense. Her once-bright eyes are dimmed, edged with exhaustion, dark circles casting shadows beneath them, even with her attempt to cover them with makeup.

Seeing her like this makes something crack inside him.

She looks at him again, and her eyes instantly well with tears. She quickly averts her gaze, biting down on her trembling lip as she stares at the floor.

"C-can I come in?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Han swallows hard. "Yeah."

He steps aside, and she walks in, stopping just inside the room. The moment she does, her lungs fill with him. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of the space—it's all so familiar.

Her fingers tighten around the handle of the bag she's carrying, an ache settling in her chest. She turns to face him again, and her heart clenches at the sight of him standing stiffly by the door, looking so lost.

Her mouth parts, but the words don't come. Neither of them knows where to start. So she sits. At the edge of his bed, patting the space beside her.

Han hesitates for only a second before walking over, settling down next to her. The tension is suffocating, nerves heavy in the air. The silence between them is thick, almost suffocating.

Minji's fingers are clenched together in her lap, her nails pressing into her skin as she tries to keep herself still. She hadn't known what to expect when she saw him again, but the moment her eyes met his, it was like a dam inside her cracked. Every single emotion she had buried in the past month threatened to spill out all at once—guilt, longing, regret, love.

Han isn't doing much better. His hands rest tensely on his thighs, fingers twitching like they want to reach for something—for her. His heart is hammering in his chest so violently that it's a wonder she can't hear it. The way she looks at him—or rather, the way she struggles to look at him—is enough to make his stomach twist. He can't help but blame himself for her appearance. She looks so worn, so fragile. Broken.

Minji steals a glance at his face, and her chest tightens at what she sees. He looks just as bad—if not worse.

His cheeks are hollow, his lips dry and bitten raw, and his eyes... God, his eyes. There's a heaviness in them she's never seen before. His normally bright, golden gaze is dull. Lifeless.

Seeing him like this makes something in her ache.

They're both broken. They're both barely holding it together. But they're both here.

Minji swallows and takes a shaky breath. "I, um... I brought you cheesecake."

She pulls the bag onto her lap and hands it to him. Han blinks, caught off guard. He takes it, peering inside at the neatly wrapped slice from one of his favorite bakeries. A lump forms in his throat.

He sets the bag down on his nightstand, turning back to her. The cheesecake can wait. There's only one thing he cares about right now.

Minji takes a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"I wanted to apologize," she says, voice trembling.

Han's lips part slightly, but he doesn't interrupt.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," she continues, her voice small but steady. "And I definitely shouldn't have said the things I did. I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you, and I hurt you. I—" her voice cracks, and she quickly blinks away the moisture in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jisung."

For a second, he just stares at her, his jaw clenching as he tries to control the emotions welling up inside him.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you either," he murmurs, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyes meet hers, and they're so full of regret it makes her breath hitch. "And everything you said..." he exhales slowly. "It was true."

Minji's brows furrow, confused.

Han offers a weak, self-deprecating smile. "I was too dependent on you. I put so much pressure on you without even realizing it. I was selfish. I only ever thought about how much I needed you, but I never stopped to think about what you needed."

Her throat tightens. "Jisung..."

"No," he shakes his head, his voice quieter now. "Let me say this."

She closes her mouth, nodding.

He exhales slowly, glancing down at his hands. "I should have noticed, Minji. You were struggling, and I just kept taking from you. You gave me everything—your time, your energy, your care—and I just..." he clenches his fists, his voice cracking. "I never gave anything back. I never even asked if you were okay."

Minji bites her lip, guilt gnawing at her. "I... I never told you, though."

Han looks at her then, his expression pained. "You shouldn't have had to tell me."

The words hang heavy between them.

Han looks down, his voice quieter now. "I'm sorry I only made things more difficult for you."

"No!" Minji blurts out, her voice trembling.

Han flinches at the sudden urgency in her tone, his breath hitching.

"You never made things difficult for me, Sungie," she continues, her eyes wide and pleading, desperate for him to understand. "You were never a burden to me—never, ever. I'm so, so sorry that I said you were that day," her voice wavers, breaking under the weight of her emotions. "I never minded caring for you. I loved doing it."

Han stares at her, completely still, his hands clenched into the fabric of his sweatpants. Minji swallows back a sob, but the floodgates have already broken. Tears spill freely down her cheeks as her chest tightens painfully.

"You didn't make things difficult," she breathes, shaking her head frantically. "You made my life better. You made it brighter. You—"

She chokes on her words.

"You make me happy, Jisung. You fill me with joy. I love seeing you smile. I love hearing you laugh. I love hugging you and cuddling with you, watching you eat, watching you game, watching you work on your music. I love just being around you, existing in the same space as you," she gasps, her words rushing out in a desperate, tear-streaked confession. "I—" she hesitates for half a second before exhaling shakily:

"I love you."

Han's lips part, a sharp breath catching in his throat. His eyes widen as her words settle over him, sinking into his very bones.

"Minji," he whispers, his voice cracking.

She sniffles, wiping at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. "I—I didn't even realize it until just now," she confesses. "When I saw you again, it just hit me. I was only planning to apologize and to respect whatever decision you might make about us. But—" her voice quivers, raw and bare, "I had to tell you now that I know. I love you, Jisung."

Han's entire body shakes. His hands tremble at his sides. His bottom lip wobbles as fresh tears well up in his already swollen eyes. Minji watches him carefully, her heart hammering against her ribs. She has no idea what he's thinking. No idea if she's too late.

"I'll still respect whatever decision you make, of course," she says softly. "I understand if what I did was unforgivable, and—"

She never gets to finish.

Han surges forward, crashing his lips against hers, his hands flying to cup her face. His fingers tremble as he holds her close, almost like he's scared she'll disappear if he lets go.

Minji gasps into the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as she sinks into him. He kisses her once, twice, dozens of times—each one messier than the last, salty with tears, desperate and longing and filled with every ounce of emotion he couldn't put into words.

"I love you too," he breathes against her lips, his voice breaking into a sob.

Minji pulls back slightly, eyes searching his. "You do?" She whispers, her hands clinging to his forearms like he might slip through her fingers at any second.

Han lets out a choked laugh, more tears spilling from his eyes as he nods rapidly. "I do," he whispers, voice hoarse. "I love you, Minji. And I forgive you. Please—" his voice cracks, his hands tightening their hold on her. "Please forgive me as well and be my girlfriend again. I miss you so much."

Minji lets out a watery laugh, crying even harder. "I was just getting ready to beg for you to take me back."

Han chuckles breathlessly, his own laughter breaking through his sobs. He pulls her into his arms, squeezing her so tightly she can barely breathe, but she doesn't care. She clings to him just as fiercely, her fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie like she never wants to let go.

"I'm sorry," she sobs into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Sungie. I'm sorry for everything. I love you, I love you, I love you—"

Han's heart feels like it might burst. He closes his eyes, pressing his lips into her hair, letting her words wrap around him like a balm, soothing all the aching parts of him.

"I promise I'll be better this time," he murmurs against her temple. "I'll be a better boyfriend. I won't be so needy, I'll take care of you more—"

"No," Minji cuts in, pulling away just enough to cup his face. Her thumbs wipe away his tears, her gaze firm, unwavering.

"Please don't change," she pleads. "I love you just like this. I love that you're needy. I love that you rely on me. I want you to rely on me."

"But you have so much going on—"

"Not anymore," she interrupts, shaking her head. "I'm quitting med school. I don't have to work so hard to provide for my family anymore. I'll have more free time, fewer responsibilities—I'll be able to be a better girlfriend to you now. But even if that wasn't the case, I would still find a way to make it work."

Her voice softens, her hands gently cradling his cheeks. "Because I love you, Jisung. And I can't be without you."

Han stares at her, taking a few seconds to process her words.

"Y-you're quitting school?" He stammers, his eyes wide, voice laced with disbelief. "It's not because of me, right? Because if it is, Min—"

"No," Minji cuts him off immediately, shaking her head. "I'm quitting because I hate it. I always did. I was only doing it for the money, but now I don't have to anymore."

Han's brows furrow, still struggling to catch up. "I don't understand."

Minji takes a deep breath, pressing her palms on his as if steadying herself. She wipes at the lingering tears on her cheeks and clears her throat. Han watches as she braces herself, as if about to lift a weight she's been carrying for far too long.

And then, she begins.

"When I was eleven years old, my parents died in a car crash."

Han's stomach drops. Minji's voice is quiet, measured, but every word slams into his chest like a wrecking ball.

"They were on their way to the hospital because my mom was about to give birth to my sister. My dad was driving too fast—he was panicking because something seemed to be wrong, and the brakes malfunctioned. They crashed into a tree and... they died on impact."

A sharp pain pierces through Han's chest. He can hardly breathe. Minji doesn't stop.

"My sister miraculously survived. But there were complications—she lost her hearing completely."

Han swallows thickly, his throat burning. Minji is an orphan? Her sister is deaf? She had never mentioned—

"We were already struggling before that," she continues, her voice tight. "But suddenly, we had no income, no security. My grandma was bed-bound due to a sickness at the time, so I had to start working. Ever since that day, I've been working nonstop to keep us afloat."

She exhales shakily, her fingers lacing with his.

"I thought about dropping out of school," she admits, "But I knew the only way out of our situation was to get a degree. A well-paying degree. So, I studied like my life depended on it—because in a way, it did. I worked part-time and studied every spare second I had so I could get into a good university and become a doctor."

Han feels lightheaded.

"Even though I hate blood," she says. "Even though the thought of body parts makes me want to vomit, I kept pushing through. Because I had to."

Han clenches his jaw, his fingers tightening their grip on her hands. His chest feels too tight, like his ribs are caving in.

"So I worked and studied, worked and studied," Minji murmurs, "Giving pretty much all my salary to my family every month just so they could eat, so my sister could have a tutor since she can't attend a regular school."

Han stares at her, utterly speechless. He feels nauseous. This entire time—this entire time—Minji had been carrying all of this on her own. And he never knew.

He thought about all the times he pouted when she had to leave for work, all the times he clung to her, whined for her attention, acted as if her sole purpose was to take care of him. His stomach twists violently. What the fuck had he been doing?

Minji exhales softly, shaking her head. "That was my life when I met you," she says, glancing up at him.

Han's breath catches. Her eyes are filled with something he can't quite place—nostalgia, fondness, pain.

"You made me realize I was wasting away," she murmurs, her fingers reaching up to graze his cheek. He leans into her touch instinctively, his chest aching. "You made me want to do more than just survive. You brought fun and excitement and love into my life in a way I never had before."

Han swallows hard, his hands trembling.

"And that's why," she continues, her voice growing thick with emotion, "Even though I knew it was a bad idea—even though I knew I didn't have time for it—I still chose to date you."

Han's fingers twitch.

"Because I wanted to. And I didn't regret it. Not for a second."

His heart cracks open inside his chest.

"But," she swallows hard, blinking rapidly against the tears building in her eyes, "I was still drowning. I was trying to juggle everything, and I started slipping," her voice wavers. "I felt guilty for not giving you the attention you deserved. I blamed myself for not being capable enough."

Han shakes his head, his throat burning. "Minji—"

"I thought I was the problem," she whispers. "That I wasn't good enough. So, I decided to let you go."

Han's breath shudders.

"But I waited too long," Minji admits. "And it all blew up in my face," a tear slips down her cheek. "And I ended up doing the one thing I never wanted to do," she lets out a small, broken sound. "I hurt you."

Han feels something deep inside him shatter.

"I regret it so much," she cries. "I wish I could go back in time and snipe myself from the building across the street before I ever said those words to you."

Han huffs a small, wet laugh, despite himself. "Jesus, Minji."

She sniffles, rubbing furiously at her face.

"Even after the breakup, nothing changed," she continues, shaking her head. "I still had too much on my plate, and now I was just miserable on top of it. But I kept telling myself it was my fault—that I just wasn't trying hard enough—"

She exhales sharply, gripping his hoodie.

"And then Lee Know found me," she mutters. "Threw me against a wall. Yelled in my face."

Han blinks. "Wait, Lee Know did what?"

Minji waves a hand. "Not important."

"Not important?" Han gapes at her. "He threw you against a fucking—"

Minji reaches up immediately, her hands cupping his face, soothing the tension in his jaw. "Don't get mad at him, please," she murmurs, brushing her thumb over his cheek. "What he did really helped me see what's important. I'm not sure I would be here right now if it wasn't for him."

Han swallows thickly, staring at her, still caught between anger and understanding. But when he sees the sincerity in her eyes—the quiet gratitude—he forces himself to nod. Slowly, his hands unclench.

Minji takes a deep breath before continuing. "After he yelled some sense into me, I went home and called my grandma. I told her everything—about school, about work, about... us. And she told me I didn't have to do any of it anymore. She's getting married soon, and her husband will take care of her and my sister. He even offered to help me if I needed it."

Han blinks. "Wait—your grandma is getting married?"

Minji lets out a soft laugh, nodding. "Yeah, I know, shocking, right?" she shakes her head. "At first, I was hesitant—I didn't want to accept help from a man I barely know. But my grandma... she made me realize something. She told me that I've spent my whole life taking care of others, and it's time I let people take care of me."

Her voice softens as she looks at him. "That's why I decided to drop everything. To figure out what I actually want to do with my life. But the very first thing on my list was finding you. Talking to you. Apologizing. And hoping you'd give me another chance."

She pulls back slightly, pointing at the small bag on his nightstand. "So I searched for that place you told me you liked to get cheesecake from and bought the sweetest-sounding one I could find," a tiny smile tugs at her lips. "I was hoping it would butter you up a little and make you more inclined to forgive me."

Han huffs out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "Minji, I would've forgiven you regardless." his fingers tighten around hers. "In fact, I already had. The second you ran out of my room that night, I stopped being mad. All I felt was guilt."

Her breath catches.

"This whole time, I kept thinking I was the problem. That I was selfish, that I was making things too hard for you. And I hated myself for it," his voice cracks. "I wanted to get you back, but I was terrified you hated me. That you resented me for being so... needy."

Minji's heart aches at his words. She shakes her head furiously, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "You never made anything difficult for me, Sungie," she shifts closer, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. "You made everything bearable. You were the one thing keeping me sane. If I didn't have you, I would have collapsed much, much sooner."

Han's throat tightens, his hands shaking slightly as they press against her back. "Then why didn't you tell me all of this before?" His voice is quiet, but there's a rawness to it. He pulls back just enough to look at her. "I could've helped you, Minji. Or at least—I wouldn't have asked so much from you. Did you not trust me?"

Minji flinches. "No, it wasn't that. It was never about trust," she exhales shakily, threading her fingers through his hair. "I was just... too proud. Too stubborn. I thought I could do it all on my own. And I was so afraid of becoming a burden to you."

Han clenches his jaw, his hands slipping down to her waist. "You would never be a burden to me, Minji," he presses his lips against the side of her head, whispering against her skin. "I love you."

Minji squeezes her eyes shut, tears slipping down her cheeks as she tilts her head, letting his words settle deep inside her. "I know that now."

Han swallows hard, searching her face. "If we're going to do this again, I need you to promise me something."

Minji nods immediately. "Anything."

"Don't feel guilty about what happened." his voice is firm, despite the lingering shakiness in it. "What you said to me that night... it hurt me. But, baby, I needed to hear it."

Her breath stutters.

"I needed to realize that I can't rely on you—or anyone—for everything. That a relationship isn't just about taking—it's about giving too."

Minji's eyes darken with emotion, her throat bobbing as she processes his words.

"This breakup hurt me, almost destroyed me," he continues, "But I also know that it forced us both to reflect. I realized that I needed to change—not just for you, but for myself and for everyone around me."

Han takes a deep breath, his voice rough. "I don't want to be selfish anymore. I don't want to just take—I want to give back to you, to my friends, to the people I love. And I will," he swallows. "But you have to promise me something else as well, Minji."

She tilts her head. "What?"

He exhales sharply, pressing their foreheads together. "You have to be honest with me from now on. No more keeping things inside. No more pushing me—or anyone—away when you're struggling," his voice drops to a whisper. "I don't ever want you to go through something alone again."

Minji bites her lip, nodding against him. "Okay. I promise."

Han closes his eyes, relief flooding his chest. "Good."

A beat of silence.

Then, Minji exhales a soft laugh. "Now you promise me something."

"Yeah?"

She grins, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. "Promise me you'll let me take care of you. Please."

His expression falters. "Minji, I—"

"That's how I show my love," she interrupts gently. "I take care of the people I love. It's how I know how to express it best. And I love you, so please, let me do this for you."

Han's heart stumbles. He can't argue with that.

After a long pause, he sighs, nodding. "Okay. But only if you promise to let me take care of you too."

Minji smiles. "Of course."

He brushes his nose against hers, breathing her in. "Then it's a deal."

A small chuckle bubbles from Minji's lips as she cups his face again, tilting it up.

Han meets her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And this time, there's no fear. No hesitation. Just love. And a second chance.

Han pulls her closer, his hands sliding up her back as he presses his lips to hers. The kiss starts soft—slow and careful, like he's afraid she might disappear again. But as soon as she kisses him back, pulling him even closer by the collar of his hoodie, all hesitation fades. He melts into her.

His fingers trace delicate patterns along the back of her neck while his other hand caresses the curve of her waist. Their lips move in perfect sync, gentle and exploratory at first, before deepening gradually—his tongue meeting hers, brushing, coaxing, tasting. The warmth of her mouth, the familiar way she sighs against him, makes his stomach flutter. He had missed this so much.

Minji, eager to be closer, shifts to climb onto his lap, but before she can fully settle, Han suddenly stiffens and pulls away.

She blinks, dazed, her breath uneven. "What—?"

He looks incredibly flustered, his face burning bright red as he rubs the back of his neck. "I— I'm sorry, but can you, uh... give me like, five minutes?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Minji tilts her head, brows furrowing. "Why?"

Han hesitates, his ears practically glowing. "I... kinda haven't showered."

Minji chuckles, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. "Oh, that's fine. I don't mind if you haven't showered today yet," she leans in to kiss him again, but he dodges, shaking his head.

"No," he pulls away further, his embarrassment worsening. "I—I haven't showered in, um... a while."

Minji pauses, taking a second to process his words. Then, curiosity flickers in her gaze. "A while? Like... how long?"

Han presses his lips together and refuses to meet her eyes. He knows she won't let this go.

"Jisung," she says more firmly, gripping his chin and tilting his head toward her. "How long?"

His gaze flickers toward the door, like he's planning an escape. "I don't know, a few days? Maybe... a-a week?" he practically whispers the last part, his entire body tensing as he braces for her reaction.

Minji's mouth falls open. "A WEEK?!"

Han groans, covering his face. "I told you it was bad! That's why I need to shower!"

Minji narrows her eyes suspiciously, reaching up to tug at his fluffy hair. "Then how does your hair still look this good?"

He grumbles, letting her inspect him like a scientist examining a rare specimen. "It just does that," he mutters. "But I probably smell—please, let me fix this. I'll be super quick!"

She tries so hard not to laugh at how mortified he looks. Finally, she releases him with a smirk. "Okay, okay. Go. I'll wait."

Without wasting another second, Han scrambles off the bed and bolts for the bathroom. Minji shakes her head, chuckling softly.

As soon as he's gone, she takes a deep breath and lets her gaze wander around his room. It smells like him—faint traces of citrus, woodsy amber, and something uniquely Han. The familiarity tugs at her heart.

She pulls out her phone, using the front camera to check her reflection. Her makeup is a mess—smudged eyeliner, tear-streaked cheeks, and a very red nose from all the crying. She does her best to fix it with the products in her bag, smoothing down her hair before getting more comfortable in the room.

She neatly places her purse on his desk chair, slipping off her jacket and draping it over the backrest. Then, something on his desk catches her eye—her anatomy textbook. The one she left behind that night.

She stares at it for a moment. Then, without a second thought, she grabs it and tosses it into the trash. She dusts off her hands, taking a breath of relief at having it gone, and takes in the cozy space a little more.

It's clean—suspiciously clean.

Minji was used to Han's messy habits, despite hating mess, his never bothered her too much. It's part of his personality and a trait she has grown to find endearing.

But now, standing in his room and not seeing a single thing out of place, it seems strange. His window is even open. He never opens his window. She remembers scolding him about the need for fresh air countless times.

If he hadn't showered in so long, he was reluctant to tell her, how come his room is so neat? Before she can reach any conclusions, Han reappears, stepping back into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, his damp hair sticking to his forehead.

Minji turns just in time to see him, and her breath catches slightly, her eyes not being able to help but wander down to his bare chest, where thick drops of water slowly trail down before disappearing under his towel.

"That was fast," she teases, tilting her head.

Han runs a hand through his hair, water droplets slipping down his neck. "I rushed. But I promise I'm all clean now," he steps closer, resting his hands on her hips.

Minji hums, pretending to inspect him. "Hmm... I suppose I'll allow you to kiss me again then."

Han grins. "Oh? How generous of you."

She giggles, pushing his damp hair back from his face. "You should dry your hair properly. You'll catch a cold."

Han leans in, his nose brushing hers. "It's hot today," he murmurs. "You're even wearing a skirt," his gaze flickers down her body, and he smiles. "You look nice, by the way."

Minji blushes slightly, smoothing her hands over her skirt. "Oh—thank you. I wanted to look good to see you."

Han softens, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You always look beautiful."

She meets his gaze, her heart swelling. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, she lifts herself onto her toes and presses her lips to his. And this time, he kisses her without hesitation. Without guilt. Without sadness. Just love.

Han's hands grip Minji's waist, pulling her in like he's afraid to let go again. Her fingers trace the damp skin of his shoulders before slipping up to cup the back of his neck, holding him close as their lips meld together. She tilts her head slightly, deepening the kiss, tasting the cool hint of mint from his freshly brushed teeth.

It's slow at first. Deliberate. Like they're memorizing each other all over again. But as soon as Han exhales that first shaky breath against her lips, as soon as her fingers tug lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck—everything shifts. The heat between them ignites instantly, raw and overwhelming, as if they're making up for all the time lost.

Han steps back, guiding her with him until his legs hit the edge of the bed. He sits down, and Minji follows without hesitation, climbing onto his lap and straddling his thighs. Her skirt rides up, the fabric stretching taut over her hips as she settles against him. Their lips crash together again, deeper, more desperate, their hands roaming with purpose.

Her fingers tangle in his hair—still damp, slightly wavy, longer than the last time they were together. She loves the way it feels between her fingers, how soft it is. Han hums in pleasure at her touch, his hands tracing the bare skin of her thighs before sliding up to cup her ass, giving a slow, deliberate squeeze.

His hands then slip beneath her shirt, hot against her skin, mapping the familiar curves of her waist and back. He groans softly when she grinds against him, feeling his arousal grow against the thin barrier of his towel. His grip tightens instinctively. God, he missed this. He missed her.

Minji suddenly presses against his shoulders, urging him back onto the bed. He lets himself fall back, his head sinking into the pillows as he watches her sit up above him, her eyes dark with need. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches for the hem of her shirt and slowly peels it off, revealing the smooth expanse of her bare skin beneath.

Han swallows hard. His hands instinctively reach up, fingers brushing over her stomach, her ribs, tracing the warmth of her skin as if to confirm she's really here.

"God," he breathes, mesmerized. "I forgot how perfect you are."

Minji chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss him again, her chest pressing against his. His hands slip lower, feeling every curve and dip of her body, his heart pounding in his chest.

Just as his fingers find the clasp of her bra, ready to rid her of it, the bedroom door suddenly swings open.

"Hannie—"

A horrified gasp.

They freeze. Minji's heart stops as her head whips toward the door—where Changbin stands, eyes wide, face rapidly turning scarlet. Han doesn't move. Neither does Minji.

Changbin, equally frozen, blinks a few times, as if trying to process the sight before him. Then, without another word, he slams the door shut with a loud BANG.

"HYUNJIN, WE NEED TO LEAVE—NOW."

Minji claps a hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. She turns back to Han, whose expression is a mix of horror and secondhand embarrassment. They stare at each other for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable giggles.

"Well," Minji breathes between laughs, wiping at the corners of her eyes. "That's one way to announce our reunion."

Han groans, dragging his hands down his face. "I'm never hearing the end of this."

Minji giggles again but leans down to kiss him once more, effectively pulling him back into the moment. Han forgets about the intrusion almost immediately.

His hands move with renewed urgency, pushing her bra straps down her shoulders before finally unclasping it, letting the fabric slip away. He cups her breasts, palming them reverently, like he's rediscovering his favorite thing in the world. His thumbs brush over her nipples, eliciting a quiet gasp from her lips, and a slow, lazy smirk forms on his.

He pulls her closer, pressing his lips to the dip between her collarbones, then lower. His mouth moves with purpose, trailing wet kisses down her chest, his breath warm against her skin.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs, dragging his tongue along her rapidly heating skin.

"Mm... I missed you too," Minji sighs, arching slightly against his mouth.

Han continues his exploration, hands traveling lower, over the curve of her waist, down her hips. He memorizes every inch of her, cherishing every soft moan she lets out.

Then, he pauses, his finger faintly tracing along the line of her skirt's waistband where he can peek at his favorite beauty mark on her skin. His lips curl into a soft smile.

"I really missed these," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to each mark he can reach. "I used to count them, you know."

Minji lets out a quiet breath, her fingers threading through his hair. "You counted them?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Han chuckles against her skin, his hands smoothing over her sides. "Yeah. I'd always lose track, though... kept getting distracted," his voice dips lower, teasing.

Minji shivers, warmth spreading through her chest. She tilts his chin up to meet her lips again, kissing him deeply—slow and savoring.

Han groans into the kiss, completely and utterly entranced by her. His towel, long forgotten, slips away completely as he rolls them over, pressing his bare body against hers.

His hands glide down her body, finding the waistband of her skirt again. He fumbles with the button, impatient, until Minji lifts her hips to help him remove it. Her underwear goes with it, and he drags the fabric down her legs, leaving her completely bare beneath him.

He doesn't hesitate to kiss her again, hands mapping the familiar curves of her body, worshiping every part of her.

Then—he pauses, reaching toward his nightstand. His fingers rummage through the drawer for a condom, but after a moment, his entire body stiffens.

"No. No, no, no."

Minji opens her eyes, blinking up at him. "What's wrong?"

Han groans in frustration, rubbing his face. "You have to be fucking kidding me."

She watches as he slams the drawer shut, defeated. Minji bites her lip, trying not to laugh at the sheer devastation on his face. Slowly, she sits up, crawling out from under him.

Han blinks at her, confused, as she walks over to her purse on his desk. Then, to his absolute shock, she pulls out a small box and tosses it toward him. He catches it, staring at the condoms in his hands before looking back at her.

He gawks at her for a second before a grin slowly spreads across his lips. He sets the box on the nightstand, reaching for her hand and pulling her back into his arms.

He grips Minji's waist suddenly, rolling her over with a playful flop onto the mattress beneath him. She gasps, but her laughter spills out just as quickly, her smile soft, teasing.

"You knew I would take you back, didn't you?" he murmurs, hovering above her, hands splayed over on either side of her head.

"I was... hopeful," she admits, grinning up at him. "The cheesecake definitely boosted my confidence."

Han snickers, leaning down to nuzzle her cheek before whispering against her skin, "I would never say no to you," then, after a beat, "Or cheesecake."

Minji giggles, sliding her hands up his bare chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath her fingertips. "You have before," she reminds him, her voice lilting with mischief.

Han pulls back and reaches for the condoms on his nightstand as his brows furrow in confusion. "Huh? When?"

"That time I was drunk," she smirks, dragging her nails lightly down his sides, watching him tear the packaging apart and start to roll the rubber on himself.

Han's lips part, his face flushing as the memory clicks into place. "Oh," he exhales, then lets out a breathy chuckle. "It wasn't easy saying no, but you know why I did it."

She smiles widely. "Because you're a cutie."

His gaze softens as he looks at her. He missed that smile so much. He leans over her again, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip, his eyes searching hers.

Minji's breath catches, her heart squeezing at the tenderness in his eyes. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can—

"Yeah," he thrusts into her in one deep stroke. "I'm really fucking cute."

She gasps sharply the moment he enters her, the sudden stretch robbing the air from her lungs. Her back arches off the bed like her body is reaching for him instinctively, drawn to him, desperate for him.

And then he moves.

Slowly. Deliberately. Reverently.

His hips roll into hers in patient, rolling waves, sinking deep—so deep she can feel every inch of him filling her completely. It isn't hurried. It isn't rough. It's worship. He moves like he has all the time in the world, like there is no need to rush now that he has her again—really has her.

Minji whimpers, her fingers digging into his back, dragging red trails down his skin as the pleasure builds, curling through her like smoke. Her body welcomes him like it remembers him. Like it has been waiting for this exact moment.

For him.

Han buries his face into the crook of her neck, his breath shaky and warm against her skin. He presses a lingering kiss there before letting his tongue trace up the length of her throat, tasting the sweat, the softness, the truth of her. When she moans, he lets his lips close over the soft spot beneath her jaw and sucks—slow, hard, and possessive. He's marking her, reclaiming her in every way. Not out of pride, but out of sheer, aching love.

The purple bruise blooming beneath his mouth will remind her later. Will remind everyone. But more than anything, it will remind him that this isn't a dream. She's real. And she's his again.

Minji shivers beneath him, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, her breath coming in quick, hot pants against his ear. His name falls from her lips in a soft sob, breathless and beautiful, and Han swears he feels it somewhere deep in his chest, like her voice is etched into his ribs now.

He moves faster then, just slightly, letting the slow burn grow into something hotter, rougher, but still tender—like he can't decide if he wants to break her apart or hold her together.

The sound of skin meeting skin echoes softly in the dimly lit room, blending with the broken moans, the rustling sheets, the whispered curses and gasps and love.

Minji holds him tighter, clinging to him like she's afraid he might disappear, like she wants to fuse their bodies together forever. Sensing her need, Han shifts, one arm slipping beneath her knee to hook her leg up, pressing it gently toward her chest. The new angle opens her completely to him.

The next thrust makes her cry out.

"F-fuck, Ji—"

Her voice cracks on his name, and Han's entire body tenses. Shit. The sound of her unraveling beneath him, the way she clenches around him like she never wants to let him go again—it pushes him right to the edge.

But he can't fall yet. Not before her.

He angles his hips, adjusting just enough to catch that spot deep inside her—and when he hits it, she chokes on a sob, her head tipping back against the pillows, her fingers tangling tightly in his hair. She's trembling beneath him, and he can feel how close she is.

"God, baby..." he groans, his voice a raw mess of want and wonder, "You feel so fucking good—so perfect—"

Her hands pull tightly at his hair as she shatters. Her body locks up, breath catching before her climax tears through her like a storm, sudden and consuming. She cries out his name, her voice wrecked, her body trembling violently as pleasure wracks her limbs. Her walls pulse around him, gripping him tight, pulling him down with her.

Han moans loudly. The feel of her—so wet, so warm, so his—drags him under.

He slams into her one final time, the motion rough and raw, and then his orgasm crashes through him with a force that leaves him breathless. He groans deep into her neck, his voice low and wrecked, his entire body locking up as he spills inside her, emptying himself completely into her warmth.

For a moment, everything stills.

Then he collapses against her, his chest heaving, his arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up. He buries his face into her shoulder and just... breathes. She feels like home. Her skin, her scent, the sound of her heart thudding against his chest—it anchors him.

Minji runs her fingers through his damp hair, nails scratching lightly over his scalp as her breathing begins to slow. She feels blissfully sore, her body humming with aftershocks, but more than that—she feels full. Not just in the physical sense, though that is true too, but emotionally. Spiritually. Soul-deep full.

He kisses her shoulder, barely more than a brush of lips, then lifts his head to look at her.

Her eyes meet his, glassy with tears she hasn't realized are there. And he looks at her like he's never stopped. Like every day apart has been a punishment he can finally escape.

"I missed you so much," he whispers, voice cracking, forehead resting gently against hers.

"I missed you even more," she whispers back, her fingers brushing his cheek, her thumb stroking over the skin that had burned for her all this time.

No more words are needed.

They are back.

Together again.

Stronger. Unbreakable.

Home.

They lay there for a moment—entangled, warm, enjoying the proximity. Then Han presses a soft, lingering kiss to her neck before looking up to capture her lips in a slow, tender kiss, his arms wrapping around her protectively, as if to shield her from the world.

"...can you stay over tonight?" he murmurs against her lips.

Minji smiles, her fingers threading through his hair. "Yeah," she whispers. "I would love to."

Han beams, his entire face lighting up with happiness. It's her favorite sight, one she wants to preserve forever.

He kisses her again. Deeper this time. Slower. Savoring. It's a healing kiss—one that stitches the wounds between them, that mends what was broken, that pulls them back together like they were never meant to be apart.

Han rolls his hips against her again, making Minji moan softly into his mouth. He pulls away, panting slightly, his lips curving into a mischievous smile.

"...one more time?" he asks, reaching for another condom.

Minji laughs breathlessly, pulling him back down. "As many times as you want."

And so, they make up for lost time.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

By the time they're both too exhausted to move, Han stumbles out of bed just long enough to dispose of the used condoms before immediately crawling back under the covers and wrapping himself around her.

Minji sighs in contentment, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He smells like him again—clean, slightly musky, comforting. Han closes his eyes, feeling her heartbeat against his, the warmth of her body pressed so perfectly into his own. For the first time in weeks, he feels whole again.

"...I love you so much," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Minji smiles against his skin, her fingers tracing lazy circles onto his back. "I love you too, a lot," she murmurs, voice soft, full of love.

Han hums, his hold on her tightening slightly. "Stay with me forever?"

Minji pulls back just enough to meet his gaze. "I will," she promises, brushing his hair away from his face. And she means it.

Jisung closes his eyes, exhaling a contented sigh as his fingers lazily trace patterns along Minji's spine. Her skin is so soft beneath his touch, warm and familiar, like he's finally home again after weeks of wandering lost.

He never wants to be apart from her. Never again. Just the thought of it sends a dull ache through his chest. He needs her—always.

He presses his lips to the crown of her head, inhaling her scent as his fingers drift up to her hair, threading through the strands slowly, reverently. But then—

His hand pauses. A small frown tugs at his brows as his fingertips brush against something that shouldn't be there.

"What is this?" he murmurs, carefully feeling around the back of her head.

"Hm?" Minji shifts slightly, lifting her hand to where he's touching. She presses lightly, then hums in realization. "Oh, do I have a bump?"

Jisung's frown deepens. "Did you hit your head?"

She blinks lazily, still nestled against him. "Probably from last night... I did hit it when Min pushed me."

Han stiffens. "What?" his voice is sharper now, his whole body going tense beside her.

"He was really mad at me," she explains, her voice soft, casual, like it's not a big deal. "I think he just pushed harder than he meant to. But I started it by pushing him first."

Han pushes up onto his elbow, his brows knitting together in pure disbelief. "Minji—how are you so casual about this? He hurt you."

"It's not that bad," she dismisses, shaking her head.

"Not that bad?" he echoes, eyes wide. "You have a huge lump on your head!"

"It's not huge," she insists, rolling her eyes. "I didn't even notice it until now. It doesn't hurt."

Han scoffs, sitting up properly now. His hands are still on her, rubbing gently over her back like he's soothing himself just as much as her. "That's not the point, Min. He pushed you—"

"Baby, please."

His breath stutters at the way she suddenly sits up and cups his face, her voice so gentle, her gaze so soft.

"I'm grateful for Min," she says, her thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. "He's a good friend—to both of us. He didn't mean to hurt me, and you know that."

Han swallows hard, jaw tensing. Does he know that?

"I don't like the thought of anyone being aggressive toward you," he admits, his voice quieter now, his pout deep and stubborn.

Minji smiles, leaning in to kiss the crease between his brows. "I know, baby. But really, it helped me," she pauses, then hums thoughtfully. "I should probably call him to thank him again."

Han groans, rubbing a hand down his face. "I should probably call him too," he mutters, glaring at nothing. "I owe him an apology," then, grumbling under his breath, "And a thank-you, I guess."

"Why do you owe him an apology?" Minji tilts her head.

Han sighs, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back down to lie against him. "I never told the guys about our breakup," he admits, eyes flickering to hers.

Minji just silently looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

"The ones who were there that night obviously knew," he says, "But... I didn't tell the others," he bites his lip. "I mean, they knew something was wrong. They're not blind. I just—I couldn't talk about it. I didn't want to."

Minji's expression softens as she watches him, patiently listening.

"Lee Know kept trying to get me to open up," Han continues, voice quieter now. "I pushed him away every single time. I just—I didn't wanna hear it, you know? I wanted to pretend I was fine. But he knew I wasn't."

He exhales heavily.

"One day, he got sick of waiting for me to tell him and—" Han huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "He interrogated someone else to get the answer instead."

Minji blinks. "That sounds... very him."

"Oh, absolutely," Han snorts. "And when he found out, he stormed into the apartment, demanding to talk. So, naturally... I ran and locked myself in my room."

Minji gapes at him. "You what?"

"I panicked!" he defends. "I knew he was about to unleash hell, and I just—I wasn't ready for it, okay?"

Minji presses her lips together, fighting a smile.

Han sighs dramatically. "But yeah. He kicked my door in."

Minji bursts into laughter.

Han groans, hiding his face in her neck. "It wasn't funny in the moment, babe, I thought I was gonna die."

She giggles, nudging him with her nose. "So, what happened next?"

He exhales. "He tried to talk, but I—I didn't say anything. I just sat there, staring at my hands like some angsty anime protagonist while he ranted about how stupid I was being."

Minji winces. "And then?"

Han shrugs, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "He eventually gave up and left. He was pissed, though. We haven't talked since."

Minji hums, tangling her legs with his. "You do owe him an apology."

Han nods. "Yeah, I know."

"We can do that later," she whispers. "Stay with me a little longer."

Han smiles, melting instantly as he nuzzles more into her neck. "I don't ever wanna be apart from you again," he mumbles, voice muffled against her skin.

"You won't be," she presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you."

He smiles against her neck. "I love you too."

They stay like that for a while—tangled up, warm, safe. Their bodies molded perfectly together, hearts syncing with every steady breath. The quiet comfort of each other's presence is enough, filling the cracks that had formed during their time apart. But then—

Han's stomach growls.

Minji snickers, pulling back just enough to look at him. "Are you hungry?"

"Maybe," he mumbles, looking thoroughly unamused by his own body's betrayal.

She grins. "You have your cheesecake."

"Oh, yeah," his eyes light up as they flicker to the bag sitting on the nightstand. "Do you mind if I eat it?"

Minji lifts a brow. "Of course not, I brought it for you."

Han beams, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before immediately hopping out of bed. He secures the towel around his waist, then snatches up the bag, pulling out the cheesecake way too excitedly.

Minji watches him with pure adoration. His energy is already back—his spark, his glow. It makes her heart swell. She stretches, getting up as well to start gathering her clothes from the floor.

"Why don't you get dressed before you eat?" she teases, shaking her head.

"Too excited," he mumbles distractedly, searching for the spoon in the bag.

Minji just laughs, stepping toward his closet. "I'll get you some clothes—"

"No, wait—"

But it's too late. The moment she pulls the closet door open—

A full-on avalanche of clothes, food wrappers, and random junk collapses onto her.

Minji freezes. Han dies inside. The mess flops onto her head, spilling down her shoulders and all around her, covering her completely. For a moment, there is silence. Then—

Minji bursts into laughter. Han, meanwhile, is hiding his face in utter mortification.

"Oh my God," she wheezes, gasping for breath between laughs. "So that's why your room was so suspiciously clean!"

Han groans loudly, dragging his hands down his face. "I'm so sorry," he mumbles behind his hands, his voice muffled with shame.

Minji giggles, shaking her head as she pulls a stray pair of sweatpants off it. "It's okay," she reassures him, tossing them aside. "I can help you clean up."

Han frantically starts picking up things from the floor, moving as if his life depends on it.

"Sungie," Minji reaches for his wrist, pulling him up gently. "Calm down, it's really okay."

His cheeks puff out in a pout, eyes wide and guilty.

"Put some clothes on and finish your cheesecake first," she soothes, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. "Then we'll clean up together."

Han sighs, shoulders sagging. "Okay," he murmurs, voice small.

Minji smiles, pressing a quick peck to his little pout before turning back to the closet to properly fetch him some clothes. This time, she carefully grabs a clean pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and some underwear, handing them over with a knowing smirk.

"Here. Wear these before you embarrass yourself again."

He groans, dragging a hand down his face before quickly changing. Once dressed, he flops onto the bed with his cheesecake, stuffing a big bite into his mouth. His cheeks puff out as he chews, still pouting slightly as if sulking over the closet disaster. Minji sits beside him, watching fondly. He's so cute.

"This is really good," Han hums, his voice muffled by food.

"I'm glad you like it," she chuckles.

Without thinking, he scoops up another generous bite and holds it up to her lips. She blinks at him before leaning in to take it, struggling to fit the large piece into her mouth.

Han snickers, watching her cheeks puff out as she tries to take the bite. She manages, but her lips get smeared in whipped cream. Before she can react, Han leans in and licks them clean, pecking her lips in the process.

Minji gasps, pulling back with a laugh as she covers her mouth. "You did not just do that!" She playfully smacks his leg, making him burst into giggles.

"What?" He grins mischievously. "Just making sure nothing goes to waste."

She rolls her eyes, unable to stop smiling as he continues eating. Just then, his phone vibrates against the nightstand. He glances at the screen, seeing Changbin's name flash across it.

He picks up with a mouthful of cheesecake. "Yeah?"

"Hm, can I come back now?" Changbin deadpans. "I forgot my wallet, and I'm starving."

Han chuckles, swallowing. "Yeah, you can come home. You can stay too, if you want—Minji's sleeping over."

There's a pause on the other end.

"...Are you guys back together?"

Jisung smiles, glancing at Minji. "Yeah," he says softly.

"I'm glad," Changbin sighs in relief. Then, in a teasing tone, "I'll make sure to keep my headphones on tonight."

Han chokes on his cheesecake. Minji snorts, covering her mouth as Han coughs and thumps his chest. "Hyung, what the hell?"

"I'm just being considerate," Changbin laughs.

Han groans, shaking his head as Minji pats his back.

Changbin clears his throat. "Anyway, I'll tell Hyunjin and Chan. That okay?"

Han nods. "Yeah, thanks, hyung."

"Of course," Changbin hums. "How about dinner together later to celebrate? Meat and beer?"

Han turns to Minji. "Meat and beer with the guys tonight?"

She smiles. "Sure."

"Sounds good," he says into the phone.

"Cool! I'll head home now, but don't worry, I'll stay in my room. Enjoy the afternoon," Changbin teases before hanging up.

Minji giggles as Han groans again. "We should call Min too," she suggests.

He nods, dialing Lee Know's number. The phone barely rings twice before he picks up.

"Hey, hyung," Han says, suddenly fidgety.

"Hanji," Lee Know breathes. "Are you alright?"

Han swallows. "Yeah. I'm good. Minji's here..."

There's a pause—then, a smile in Lee Know's voice. "She talked to you?"

Han glances at Minji, their fingers intertwined between them.

"Yeah," he says softly. "We're back together."

"That's great!" Lee Know exclaims.

"We're getting meat and beer with the guys to celebrate," Jisung says. "Wanna join?"

"Hm, I'm actually supposed to meet up with Yuna tonight."

Han grins. "Bring her too—it's been a while."

"All right, I'll check with her and let you know," Lee Know replies.

"Cool, see you later."

Han sets his phone down, turning to Minji with a small, almost shy smile.

"Yuna might come too?" She asks, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his wrist.

"He said he'll ask."

"I'd love to see her. It really has been a while."

Han hums in agreement before shifting closer, wrapping his arms snugly around her waist, and pulling her back into his chest. They sink into the bed together, falling into the kind of easy, natural silence that only comes with true comfort.

For a while, they do nothing but exist in each other's presence—talking in quiet voices, exchanging lazy kisses, and cuddling while he absentmindedly plays with her fingers.

They take a break in between to clean up his room, laughing as they work together, picking up clothes and tossing out whatever questionable items had been hastily shoved away earlier.

At some point, Minji tells him about her plans—finding a small apartment, getting a better job, trying to figure out what she actually wants to do with her life now that she's free from her obligations. Han listens intently, nodding along, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

"Let me help," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Minji glances at him, her lips parting slightly. "Sungie, I don't—"

"I want to," he insists, squeezing her fingers. "Whatever you need, I'm there."

A lump forms in her throat at his sincerity. She had spent so much time trying to carry everything alone, believing she had to—but now, with him looking at her like this, so determined to stand by her side, she finally lets herself accept it.

She nods, lacing their fingers together. "Okay."

A knock on the door interrupts their moment.

"Han, Minji—come out!" Changbin's voice carries through the apartment. "Food's here."

Han perks up instantly. "Oh, hell yeah."

Minji chuckles as he practically jumps up, grabbing her hand to pull her along toward the kitchen.

When they step out, the apartment is alive with energy. The air is thick with the delicious smell of grilled meat, and the table is already set with plates, beer bottles, and side dishes. The members are starting to gather, their voices filling the space in soft chatter.

Changbin is the first to notice her. He turns from where he's unpacking the food, a bright grin spreading across his face.

"Hey," he says warmly, spreading his arms open.

"Hey," Minji replies, smiling as she steps into his embrace.

He wraps his arms around her tightly, swaying her from side to side in a way that makes her laugh softly.

"I'm so glad you're back," he murmurs, his voice carrying a genuine warmth that makes her chest ache. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too," she whispers back, squeezing him.

He pulls away slightly, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. "Also—sorry I walked in on you guys earlier."

Minji's face heats up instantly. "Oh my god, please pretend that never happened."

"You got it," he chuckles, ruffling her hair before letting her go.

Just as she steps back, her gaze lifts—and suddenly, all the warmth in her chest tightens. Across the room, standing by the table, is Chan. His arms are crossed over his chest, his expression serious as his dark eyes settle on her.

Her stomach drops. Chan is the one she had been most afraid to face after Han. She knows he was there that night. He heard everything—the argument, the cruel words, the moment she shattered Han's heart and left him in pieces.

But it's more than that. Chan is responsible for all the guys. He watches over them, protects them, keeps them together. And Minji knows, without a doubt, that Han is special to him—Han was the first member to join, his little brother in all but blood. She hurt someone precious to him. She knows how much that must have disappointed him.

She suddenly feels small under his gaze, her fingers clenching at the hem of her sleeve. But she forces herself to speak.

"Hi," she says quietly, unable to meet his eyes for too long.

Chan's lips press together for a moment, like he's considering something.

"Hi," he says back, his voice even. "I'm glad you're doing better."

Minji exhales, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease.

"Thank you," she says sincerely.

But Chan doesn't move, doesn't smile, doesn't soften in the way she's used to. He just stares at her, unreadable. There's no aggression in his eyes, but they aren't quite warm either.

He isn't angry. But he isn't forgiving either. Minji shifts on her feet, her fingers curling slightly. The weight of his silence presses down on her, making it hard to breathe.

"I—" she hesitates, clearing her throat nervously.

Before she can continue, Chan steps forward. And then—without warning—he pulls her into a tight hug.

Minji's eyes widen in shock. His arms are strong around her, firm and unwavering, holding her like he's reaffirming something to himself. For a second, she's too stunned to move. Then she melts into the embrace.

"Please take better care of yourself," he murmurs, voice low and steady in her ear. "You're important to all of us."

Minji squeezes her eyes shut. Her hands clutch at the back of his shirt, her throat tight with emotion.

"I will," she whispers, her voice barely above a breath. She swallows thickly, and before she can stop herself, she adds, "I'm sorry for what I did. It will never happen again."

Chan pulls back just enough to look at her, his gaze searching. Then, finally, he nods. "I know," he says quietly. "It's okay. If he forgives you, so do I."

Minji lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you," she murmurs, and really feels like things are going to be okay.

Chan smiles softly, the warmth finally returning to his eyes. Just then, the doorbell rings. Chan steps away to answer it while Minji turns just in time to be tackled into a hug by Hyunjin.

"Minji-yah!" he whines dramatically, burying his face into her shoulder.

She laughs, stumbling slightly under his weight. "Hey, Hyun."

"I suffered without you," he groans.

She chuckles, ruffling his hair. "I seriously doubt that."

The front door opens, and the sound of familiar voices fills the space. Minji pulls away from Hyunjin just in time to see Lee Know and Yuna stepping inside, smiling and greeting everyone.

As soon as he sees him, Han doesn't hesitate. He strides over, his arms wrapping tightly around his friend in a firm, sincere embrace.

"Hyung," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Minji told me that you talked to her... thank you so much."

Lee Know's expression softens as he hugs him back, patting his back in that quietly reassuring way of his. "Of course, jagi."

But just as he starts to pull away, Han's grip suddenly tightens.

Before anyone can react, Han grabs Lee Know's collar, shoving him hard against the door. The loud thud echoes through the apartment, and the entire room stills.

Minji gasps. Yuna's eyes widen in shock. Chan and Changbin immediately step forward, their muscles tensing instinctively. Han glares up at Lee Know, his jaw clenched tight.

"But if you ever hurt Minji again," he says in a low, dangerous voice, "I'll do it ten times worse to you."

The tension in the room thickens.

"What do you mean?" Yuna demands, her voice sharp with confusion. "Minho, what's he talking about?"

"Ji!" Minji yanks at the back of his shirt, panic creeping into her voice.

"Woah—woah, calm down," Chan moves between them, his hands lightly pushing against Han's chest, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Lee Know, to his credit, doesn't retaliate. He just blinks down at Han, clearly taken aback. "...What?"

Han doesn't back down. "You shoved her," he spits, his voice laced with anger. "She has a bump on her head because of you."

Yuna stiffens. "You what?"

"Ji, stop!" Minji tugs harder at him, stepping between them. "I started it! It wasn't like that—he was just trying to get me to listen, and I wasn't exactly being receptive at the time."

"That doesn't mean he gets to put his hands on you," Han grits his teeth, the memory of feeling the lump on the back of her head still fresh in his mind. His stomach twists at the thought.

"Did I shove you too hard?" Lee Know finally speaks, his voice quieter now. His brows knit together, and for the first time since Han confronted him, there's genuine concern in his eyes. "I—shit, Minji, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Minji insists. "It doesn't even hurt; I barely noticed it until Sungie freaked out."

"That's not the point," Yuna interjects, crossing her arms as she narrows her eyes at her boyfriend. "Why did you shove her?"

"I—" Lee Know starts.

"He was trying to knock some sense into me," Minji says before he can answer, "And he did, actually. I'm nothing but thankful for it, so please, everyone, let's just drop it."

Han exhales sharply, shoulders sagging as some of his anger begins to fizzle out. "Fine," he mutters, running a hand through his hair before looking at Lee Know again. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Lee Know watches him for a beat before sighing, shaking his head. "It's fine, Sung. I get it. And I'm sorry too."

Minji smiles softly at the truce but jumps when Lee Know suddenly reaches out, his fingers gently pressing against the back of her head.

"Dude, don't touch it." Han immediately smacks his hand away. "It might hurt."

"I barely touched it!" Lee Know protests.

"Minji, let me see," Yuna says, stepping in and tilting Minji's head forward slightly. She frowns as she carefully feels for the bump. "Damn, it's huge."

"I told you!" Han huffs.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you that hard," Lee Know says, visibly guilty.

"I'll scold him later," Yuna mutters, her eyes narrowing as she shoots him a pointed look.

"Please don't," Minji pleads. "I shoved him first."

Yuna raises an eyebrow. "Wow—you two had a full-on fight, huh? Kind of like when you and I fought?"

Lee Know chuckles sheepishly. "Yeah, no, that was way worse. You kicked my ass."

"Sorry," she pouts.

"I deserved it," he admits with a dramatic sigh.

"You really did," Yuna giggles, pecking his cheek.

Minji watches them with amusement before she feels Han's fingers lace through hers, getting her attention. She turns to look at him, his eyes still holding traces of concern, but also something softer now. She gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

"We're good, Sungie," she murmurs.

Han exhales, finally letting go of the last bit of tension. "Okay," he whispers back.

Just then, Hyunjin steps into the room, looking confused by the lingering tension. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Minji says quickly, tugging Han toward the kitchen. "Let's just eat."

"I'm sorry again, hyung," Han says sheepishly to Lee Know. "I really am grateful for you talking to her, I just—"

"I know, it's okay," Lee Know nods and pats his back. "I understand."

"You'd kill me if I ever hurt Yuna."

"I'd kill you myself, bud," she chuckles and pats his back as well.

"Then I'd bring you back and kill you again," Lee Know smiles, making them laugh.

Once they're finally settled at the table, the atmosphere begins to shift. The scent of grilled meat fills the air, the soft clinking of chopsticks and plates mingling with easy conversation.

Han glances around, his heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks. His friends are here. Minji is here. It's real. He watches as she laughs at something Hyunjin says, her eyes crinkling, her cheeks warm from the beer. His heart swells at the sight.

She catches his gaze and smiles. He doesn't hesitate—he leans over and kisses her cheek, making her giggle.

"You're so clingy," she teases.

"Sorry," he pulls away immediately.

"I love it," she murmurs, pulling him back and nuzzling into his shoulder.

She does. She really does.

He smiles widely and swings his arm over her shoulders, pulling her chair closer to his, feeling her lean onto his side.

As the night goes on, they drink, they eat, and they talk—falling back into a rhythm that had been missing for far too long. Minji's heart is light, her worries distant. Because no matter what happens from here, she knows she's not alone anymore.

And later that night, when she falls asleep wrapped tightly in Han's arms, she realizes something.

He is her home.

⊹˚₊‧─────≽ ^ • ⩊ • ^ ≼─────‧₊˚⊹

I torture you guys but in the end, I'm a nice person, hehe

Hope this chapter was worth the wait, see ya'll on the next one!