❥ || chapter sixteen

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The days that followed Heeseung's confession were quieter.

Not in the sense of silence, exactly. The office still buzzed with the usual chaos: emails flying, phones ringing, Minchae dramatically sighing over spreadsheets. But something in me had dimmed, like the volume had been turned down on the world. I still smiled. I still laughed. But it felt thinner. Like a mask stretched too tight over something fragile. Like I was going through the motions, echoing some version of myself that no longer felt quite real. And for the first time, I wasn't sure if I could keep pretending.

Heeseung didn't avoid me. Not entirely. He still passed me in the halls, still nodded in meetings, still hovered two paces behind whenever Minchae came storming in with a new disaster. But he didn't linger. He didn't look at me quite the same way. His eyes used to soften, used to carry that glint of something unspoken. Now they just moved past me, like I was part of the office furniture.

And I couldn't blame him.

I'd hurt him. Not cruelly, not intentionally, but I had. And guilt stuck to me like smoke after a fire. It clung to my thoughts, crept into moments when I should've been focused, made every laugh feel borrowed. My chest carried an invisible bruise, one I kept pressing just to feel something.

And somewhere in that ache, Sunghoon found his way in.

He was subtle about it, as always. Never pushy. Never demanding. But present. Steady. The kind of warmth you didn't realize you were leaning into until it was the only thing holding you upright.

He brought me lunch again. Left doodles on sticky notes that made me snort laugh at my desk. Once, he made an entire spreadsheet ranking the best office vending machine snacks, just to make me laugh. He asked me about stupid things like what my favourite kind of pancake was (chocolate chip, for the record), and then brought me chocolate chip pancakes the next morning, acting like it was a total coincidence. He even started playing my favourite playlist on the office speaker when it was his turn.

He didn't bring up the almost kiss.

Not once.

But it hung there between us anyway. Every time our fingers brushed. Every time I laughed too loud at one of his jokes. Every time he looked at me like he was memorizing something he was afraid to lose. We orbited closer without saying it out loud, like naming it might break the spell. And honestly, maybe I didn't want to break it.

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It happened on a Wednesday.

The day had been long, filled with pointless meetings and a coffee shortage that nearly caused a mutiny. By the time the clock hit 6:30, the office had mostly cleared out. Minchae had vanished early for some mysterious appointment, and Heeseung had muttered something about catching up on sleep.

Sunghoon and I were the only ones left.

We were sitting on the roof, our unofficial secret spot. It wasn't glamorous, a couple of lawn chairs, an old vending machine that sometimes ate your coins, and a view of the skyline that made it all feel a little more cinematic than it was. The air carried the faint smell of warm concrete and distant takeout. Somewhere below, traffic hummed in lazy, rhythmic waves. The quiet made everything feel suspended, like the world had tilted just slightly, and we were balancing on the edge of something about to change.

The sky was the colour of peach tea.

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. "You ever think about how weird this job is?"

I glanced at him, amused. "Only every day."

"We spend hours making ads about products that no one even likes. And we act like it matters. Like it changes anything."

I tilted my head. "You think it doesn't?"

He looked over at me. "I think... it matters if you do it with the right people. That's what makes it worth it."

I didn't say anything. Because suddenly, I was very aware of how close his chair was to mine.

There was a breeze up there, tugging at loose strands of my hair. Sunghoon reached over, brushed one behind my ear. His fingers lingered a moment longer than they needed to. A touch that felt deliberate. Familiar. Charged. Like something unspoken had just been said.

He sat up slowly, his expression softening. "Eunseo."

The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine.

I looked at him, my heart already starting to race. "Yeah?"

He hesitated. Then: "I like you."

There it was.

Simple. Honest. No grand buildup, no fireworks. Just the truth, laid bare beneath the peach coloured sky.

I swallowed. "Sunghoon..."

"I know you're dealing with a lot," he said quickly. "And I'm not trying to make things harder. But I needed to say it. Because every time I'm around you, I feel like I'm... home. And I don't know what that means yet, but I want to find out. With you."

He was quiet after that. Letting the words settle. Letting me breathe.

I stared at him, breath caught in my throat. My heart clenched in my chest.

I wanted to say yes.

Oh, how I wanted to say yes.

But in the back of my mind, a warning flared.

Red ink. A torn page. The weight of a future I couldn't escape.

If I let him in, if I let myself feel everything I wanted to feel, then his loss, if it came, would break me.

But if I didn't...

Would I spend the rest of my life wondering what we could've been?

"Sunghoon," I said finally, my voice trembling, "you matter to me. More than I know how to say. And that scares me."

His eyes searched mine. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to lose you. And sometimes... sometimes I feel like that's exactly what's going to happen."

He didn't look away.

Instead, he reached out and took my hand. Slowly. Gently. Like he was giving me time to pull away.

I didn't.

His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, a soothing rhythm. Steady. Warm. Real.

"Then don't waste what you have while you have it," he said.

Tears stung my eyes.

I didn't know what tomorrow would bring. I didn't know how much of this I could protect. But for the first time, I stopped trying to run from it.

I squeezed his hand.

He smiled, soft and achingly tender. And I saw it then, the depth of what he felt. The way his feelings weren't loud or demanding, but patient and real. The kind of love that waited, that endured.

And for that moment, under the blush of the evening sky, I let myself fall.

Just a little.

Because maybe, just maybe...

Even the doomed deserved a little happiness before the end.

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a/n: i tried to like make this similar to heeseung's confession to show the difference but this sucks sooooo bad omg idk what im even doing atp lollll

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