Chapter: 100

[Song Recommendation:

Imperfect Love by SeventeenOr

Still with you by Jungkook]

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Healing wasn't a straight line, and Miyeon had known that from the start. But in the month since her release from the hospital, she had come to understand just how many shapes healing could take.

Some days it looked like silent mornings, like her mother brushing her hair while Mirae braided daisies into it. Other days, it came in uncomfortable silences with her father that slowly turned into small, cautious conversations over coffee, over Mirae's homework, over childhood stories no one had dared to speak aloud in years.

And though Miyeon still hadn't fully let the wall down between her and her father, it was... lower. Because in the end, he had loved his family the only way he knew how. By trying to keep it together, even when the truth was rotting it from the inside.

He wasn't perfect, but he had lost his older brother, his parents, his sense of control, and still, he had shown up at her bedside every day without fail. That had to mean something.

The first few weeks had been harder than she let on.

The cast on her dominant hand made eating, texting, even holding a spoon feel like a battle. But no one ever let her fight it alone. Nari fed her like she was royalty and teased her mercilessly while doing it.

Sohee and Mirae decorated her crutches with stickers and glitter pens until she threatened to throw them both out the window. Dino carried her wheelchair like it weighed nothing, even up stairs, even when she complained.

Even others had come to visit her every other day without a fail. Sometimes bringing flowers and other times just bringing their presence. Just yesterday she had sat outside in the rose garden alongside Joshua, Dokyeom, Yewon and Mingyu talking about anything and yet everything.

And then there were Jeonghan and Wonwoo.

Her best friend and her boyfriend. Fierce, gentle, unwavering.

They were always there. Whether it was keeping track of her medications, adjusting her pillows when she couldn't get comfortable, or snapping at her every time she tried to move too much on her own, they were both relentless in their care.

Jeonghan wouldn't even let her get out of bed without supervision for the first week, which led to a dramatic showdown in the kitchen that ended with him apologizing with a bouquet and her threatening to shove it in his face.

But even as her body healed, Miyeon couldn't always escape the shadows that followed her in the quiet hours.

Some nights, the weight of it all returned in waves, flashes of the explosion, the sharp impact of the crash, the echo of her uncle's voice. She'd wake up drenched in sweat, breath caught in her throat, her hands shaking long after her eyes opened.

But someone was always there. Mostly her father. He would always be there, gently grounding her, whispering that she was safe now, but the fear lingered. The trauma didn't vanish with the bandages. It lived quietly beneath her skin, in the silence between heartbeats.

But now, finally, a month later, the wheelchair had been tucked away.

She still needed crutches. Her leg moved stiffly, and there were moments she'd wobble or falter, but she was walking again.

And now, she stood on soft grass with Jeonghan beside her, one crutch steady beneath her arm, her other hand loosely gripping his. They were in front of Daehan's grave. The sky above was pale, early morning sunlight casting a soft glow across the stone.

She hadn't been here since the day she made up with Yewon. Since every piece started going back to its place.

Her eyes traced his name. The engraved letters. The fresh flowers someone had laid not too long ago. Wonwoo, Yewon and Dino had visited yesterday.

Miyeon exhaled, a small sound that trembled in the air and then gently tapped Jeonghan's hand, her fingers brushing his wrist in that familiar way she always did when she needed something but didn't want to say it aloud.

He looked at her, already understanding. Without needing words, he tucked her crutch under one arm and reached around her waist, steadying her as she slowly lowered herself to the ground.

He moved with practiced care, his other hand supporting the weight of her injured leg until she was comfortably seated in the grass. He joined her without hesitation, sitting close but not crowding her, always giving her space to breathe, to feel, to speak when she was ready.

For a long moment, they just sat in the hush of the cemetery, birds chirping gently above, the rustle of spring leaves filling the space between heartbeats.

Jeonghan reached forward first, laying the bouquet they had brought, a mix of soft blue hydrangeas and white roses, across the base of Daehan's gravestone. With the sleeve of his shirt, he brushed off some of the settled dust and dirt from the engraving.

It read simply:

______________________

Choi Daehan

'In the quiet moments, we still hear your laughter.In the darkest hours, your light still guides us.You left too soon, but never left us.'

_____________________

Miyeon looked at the stone for a while, her eyes soft, full of things that couldn't be said. Then, she smiled.

"Hi, Dae," she said, her voice steady but tender, "It's been a while, huh?", she paused, resting her arms over her knees as she looked ahead.

"So, get this. I still can't cook rice properly. Remember how you used to say it was physically impossible for someone to burn a rice cooker? Yeah... it happened again. Twice.", she laughed, softly, a sound both real and fragile, "Mirae almost staged a court hearing to keep me out of kitchen forever."

Jeonghan smiled faintly beside her, his gaze still lowered in quiet respect.

"I know I haven't come to see you in a while," she continued, "but... it wasn't because I forgot you. Or stopped missing you. It's just... a lot happened. A lot I think you'd be proud of. Or laugh about."

She glanced at Jeonghan with a small smile, then back at the grave, "I fought back, Daehan. All of it. Everything we were afraid of before, I didn't let it win. I didn't let him win. But I also wasn't alone.

Her fingers gently plucked a blade of grass beside her, twirling it between her thumb and index finger.

"And you... you got your justice," she said more softly now, "They found out. Everything. None of it was an accident. None of it was my fault. But now he's gone. Juwon's gone. You're free now."

A breeze passed through the trees, brushing her hair from her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in.

Then, slowly, she lifted her hand and gestured toward Jeonghan.

"I know you already know him, but I'll introduce you again, this is Yoon Jeonghan," she said, voice lighter but steady, as as small smile made it to her face, "And he's... my boyfriend."

Jeonghan turned to her at that, a soft inhale escaping him. Her hand reached for his instinctively, and he held it, threading their fingers gently.

"He's annoying sometimes," she added, laughing under her breath, "Talks a lot. Thinks he's too pretty for his own good. You must've teased him mercilessly."

Jeonghan chuckled quietly, bowing his head in mock respect toward Daehan's grave, "He always won."

Miyeon smiled and looked at the gravestone again.

"But he also stayed. Through everything. Through hell, through hospitals, through heartbreak. And he helped put the pieces back together.", her voice cracked, but she didn't shy away from it, "So, I think... no, I know you'd be happy for me."

She looked down at the flowers again, brushing one petal gently.

"And it's okay if you let go now," she whispered, "You've carried this long enough."

For a while, the two of them sat in silence again, not to fill the space, but to honor it. To let the past and the present coexist in peace. There were no tears in Miyeon's eyes, only softness.

Acceptance.

Jeonghan reached over and rested his head lightly against hers, their hands still joined.

And for the first time in a long, long time...

She felt light.She felt free.She felt ready.

To live fully for herself and for the ones who never got to.

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The hilltop hadn't changed.

The same wild grass swayed in the breeze. The same wooden bench stood slightly crooked, half-worn with time and memory. But somehow, tonight, it felt different. Maybe it was the stillness after the storm. Maybe it was her, sitting here again, finally breathing freely.

Miyeon sat curled against Jeonghan on a thick, wool blanket they'd spread over the grass, her crutches laying beside them like forgotten burdens. The city lights sparkled far below, golden veins threading through the dark. Above them, the sky stretched endless and clear, every star bright and alive.

Jeonghan's arm was slung loosely around her waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against her side. She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder, fitting like they had always been meant to meet at this exact moment.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice softened by the hush of the night.

"You are," he replied without missing a beat.

She groaned softly, nudging him with her elbow, "That was so predictable."

He chuckled, a low warm sound vibrating in his chest, "Doesn't mean it's not true."

Miyeon pulled away just enough to glance up at him. His eyes were on her, glowing with a kind of reverence she would never get used to. The kind that made her forget she had ever been broken. The kind that stitched something back together inside her every time he looked her way.

And in that moment, as the breeze played with the strands of her hair and the stars watched in gentle silence, she could only think one thing.

How suddenly, the night wasn't as dark as it used to be,not because the stars burned brighter,but because someone whispered light into the places she thought would stay lonely forever.

She didn't say it aloud, but she didn't have to. She only looked at him and Jeonghan smiled, almost like he had heard it anyway.

Their fingers laced together easily now, no hesitation, no fear. Just two hands, healing.

"You remember when we came here last time?", she asked softly.

Jeonghan tilted his head, "The time you tripped and fell trying to chase a firefly?"

"I was drunk!" she said slapping his chest, laughing, "And that firefly was clearly faster than me."

"You were stubborn even then," he said, grinning.

Miyeon rolled her eyes, then rested her chin on his shoulder, "Still am."

He kissed the top of her head gently, "Good. Don't change. Not for anything."

There was a brief pause. Silence.

"You have something on your mind.", he said, looking at the lights beyond. From her silence and tense shoulders he knew she was hiding something and he didn't want her to carry it alone anymore.

Miyeon's voice dropped, barely above a breath, "I thought... you'd leave."

Jeonghan blinked, turning to her sharply, "What? Why?"

Her eyes were glassy now, stars reflected in the tears she was trying to blink away, "Because I can't walk properly anymore. Because I'm not the same. I have too many scars, too much... damage. And you?" her voice cracked, "You're perfect. You deserve someone who hasn't been broken."

For a heartbeat, Jeonghan didn't speak. Didn't breathe.

Then he leaned in slowly, cupping her cheek, his thumb catching a tear before it could fall, "Kim Miyeon," he whispered, like her name was the wish he hadn't said aloud,

"You think I love you because you're flawless? No. I love you because even when the world tried to break you, you held on to your fire. Your scars don't scare me, they're proof you survived. And that? That's more beautiful than perfect could ever be."

Another tear slipped down, and he kissed it away like he could erase the ache if he just loved her hard enough.

Just then, across the vast sky, a sudden streak of silver light arched high and quick, a shooting star cutting through the velvet night.

Jeonghan turned to say something but stopped when he saw her hand lift.

"Wish," she whispered, her eyes wide with soft wonder.

And for once, he didn't tease. He didn't smirk. He only smiled quietly and closed his eyes.

So did she.

No words.No sound.

Just two hearts wishing.Not for themselves,but for each other.

She wished for his happiness.He wished for her peace.

When they opened their eyes again, Miyeon was the first to speak.

"What did you wish for?", she asked, tilting her head.

"Can't tell you," he replied, tugging her closer, "Or it won't come true."

She huffed, "Rude."

He kissed her cheek, "I'll tell you someday."

They fell into silence again, peaceful and full.

Then he looked up at the sky, still holding her hand, and asked softly, "Tell me about the constellations, darling."

She looked up, then at him, her eyes shining.

And for the rest of the night, under a sky stitched with ancient stars and quiet promises, she whispered stories to him, about Orion and Andromeda, about gods and monsters, about stars that died long ago and those still being born.

And he listened. Every word.

Not because he needed to know about the stars, but because in her voice,he found the constellations his heart had been tracing all along.

And she told him in deatil.

Because he was the daylight to her midnight.

Not to the light that just chased away the dark, but the one that showed her how beautiful it could be when the two meet.

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Epilouge to go.

P.s: Moonlightgyu_x you might wanna play Kidult for the next one :)

Happy Reading!📚🤍