thirty

"baby, if you stay, then i won't let you down." -comeback, jonas brothers.

——

the morning sunlight crept through the curtains, painting the apartment in a soft golden hue. misun rubbed her eyes, her hair messy and her sweatshirt hanging loose off one shoulder. her mom had already left for work—she'd scribbled a small note on the counter reminding her to eat.

the apartment felt empty, but not as heavy as before. maybe she was just getting used to the silence.

she yawned, waiting for her coffee to finish, when a sudden knock came from the door.

misun blinked, confused. she wasn't expecting anyone.she hesitated for a moment before walking over, barefoot, her mug still in hand.

when she opened the door, a man stood there—probably from a flower shop, judging by the uniform and cap. he smiled politely, holding out a bouquet wrapped in pale paper.

"delivery for kang misun," he said.

"oh— that's me," she replied softly, setting her mug on the shoe rack to take the flowers. "who's this from?"

"i've no idea, i was just asked to deliver it today," the man answered politely.

"ah, thank you." she smiled.

he nodded, then left with a polite bow.

she shut the door, puzzled, staring down at the bouquet.

lilies.

white lilies. her favorite.

the sight of them made something warm and fragile flutter in her chest. she brushed her fingers over the petals before noticing a small envelope tucked neatly between the stems.

she pulled it out slowly, unfolding the small card.

i'm sorry.– jihoon

just two words. small, simple, almost quiet.

but her heart stuttered anyway.

she sank onto the couch, the flowers resting in her lap. the faint scent filled the room—soft and clean, familiar. she smiled, just barely, though her eyes stung.

"idiot," she whispered, half laughing through the ache in her chest.

she found a vase, filled it with water, and placed the lilies inside. they looked beautiful on the table—gentle and peaceful, almost like him when he wasn't hiding behind all his walls.

the next day, another knock.

this time, it was a small paper bag—coffee from her favorite cafe, with a note scribbled on the sleeve.

you used to drink this everyday, i hope you still do.

and then the next day, a book she'd once told him she wanted to read but never got around to buying.

for the nights when you miss yourself.

and then, a playlist link sent to her phone with no message, just a heart emoji.

misun didn't reply.

not because she didn't want to. but because she didn't know what to say.

yet every time she found something from him—flowers, a note, a memory—she couldn't help but smile. even if she tried to fight it, her heart softened a little more each day.

and maybe... just maybe, she was starting to believe he meant it this time.