thirty four

"so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater." -sweater weather, the neighbourhood.

——

the evening was quiet, the sky heavy with clouds that promised rain. misun walked home from work, her steps slow and tired. she didn't feel like cooking, so when she passed the small ramen place tucked between a bakery and a record store, she stopped.

it was the same place she and jihoon used to come to. the same red stools, the same smell of broth and garlic and soy.

she almost turned away—but nostalgia won.

she pushed the door open, the small bell chiming softly.

she ordered her usual, sitting near the window as raindrops began tapping gently on the glass. the city lights blurred behind the fogged-up pane. she watched absentmindedly until she heard a voice she hadn't heard in person for years.

"no way... misun?"

she froze.

when she turned, hoshi was standing near the counter with dino and jihoon.

dino grinned immediately, "it is you!" he said, rushing over. "wow, it's been forever."

"hi," she managed, smiling nervously. "i missed you guys."

hoshi, ever the sunshine, pulled her into a half hug. "we missed you too. how've you been?"

"good. just... busy," she said softly. her eyes flickered to jihoon, who was standing behind them, quiet, watching her.

their gazes met for just a moment before hoshi cleared his throat. "uh—hey, dino, we should—"

"grab some drinks," dino finished quickly, already tugging hoshi toward the door. "catch up later, hyung!"

they were gone before she could respond.

she turned back toward jihoon. "hi."

"hi," he said back, awkward but gentle.

"you still come here?" he asked quietly.

"sometimes," she said. "it's still my favorite."

"mine too..." he said. "wanna sit down?"

she nodded, following him.

they ended up sitting together at her table. neither spoke for a while, the sound of rain filling the silence between them.

outside, the drizzle turned heavier, streams of water sliding down the glass. inside, the light glowed soft and warm.

"i didn't think i'd see you here," she admitted.

"me neither," he replied. "but i'm glad i did."

she looked down at her bowl. "jihoon... i'm scared."

he blinked. "scared?"

"of... trying again. of getting hurt again."

he leaned forward slightly, voice steady but fragile. "i'll wait for as long as it takes. i'm not asking for anything now—just a chance to prove that i mean it this time."

her throat tightened. she didn't know what to say.

he smiled faintly. "you don't have to decide tonight."

thunder rumbled outside, low and distant. she shivered a little, and without thinking, he shrugged off his jacket and held it out to her.

"you'll catch a cold," she said softly.

"so will you," he countered, draping it gently over her shoulders anyway.

she sighed, but her lips curved just slightly. "you never listen."

for a moment, they just stared at each other—the sound of rain, the smell of ramen, the hum of everything they once were hanging between them.

eventually, she glanced outside. "it's late. i should go."

he stood up. "i'll walk you home."

under the awning, they paused, the rain falling hard now, splashing at their feet.

she turned to him. "thank you... for tonight."

he smiled, soft and sad. "thank you for not walking away."

she clutched his jacket closer as she headed inside her building.

and later that night, when she hung it by the couch, she noticed the faint scent of his cologne—the same one from years ago—and the tiniest folded piece of paper tucked in the pocket.