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She loved him. He liked her.
She loved him, but she didn’t know it yet. All she knew was that when she was with him, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. His smile, as simple as it was, could lift the weight she carried deep inside. He made her feel alive—his presence, his laughter, and the way he embraced life, turned every moment into an adventure. Yet, despite his bold and carefree nature, she felt safe around him, secure in a way that defied logic.
He knew she liked him, maybe even loved him, though she hadn’t said it. He liked her too, more than she realized. He admired how she cared for others, never judging his outlandish thoughts, and how she seemed to glow like sunshine itself. But for him, liking her was all it could be.
Perhaps it was the fear of commitment, or maybe it was because he knew he could never match the devotion she offered, the way she overlooked his flaws and focused on his better parts. He couldn’t do that—he saw too much. The little flaws, the habits, the imperfections. And he saw her for what she was: naively, terrifyingly hopeful. Her attachment to him was founded on that hope.
“Tough day, my liege?” he murmured, running his fingers through her hair as she lay on his lap. With a book in hand, he glanced down at her.
“Mhm.” She nodded, her eyes opening to meet his gaze.
Those big, kindhearted eyes. Honest. Too honest. He feared that any second, she’d confess. And he was terrified because, no matter how much he knew it wasn’t right, he couldn’t bring himself to reject her.
They were best friends, inseparable in the way they shared everything—their thoughts, their fears, the silliest details down to their blood types and soap operas they hated. He knew things would never be the same if they crossed that line.
He didn’t see her the way she saw him, and he knew that truth would hurt her eventually.
“Chongyun and Hu Tao went out today,” she said, hinting at something unspoken.
He wanted to say, " Shall we make it a double date?"
Instead, he said, "I see. One day, you’ll go out with someone you love."
The words felt like a knife, and he knew they cut her deeply. He was sorry for hurting her, but it was a small wound compared to the heartbreak he feared would come if he allowed her to hold on to false hope.
She hit the target with precision, but the force shattered it.
She shifted to her side, a frown settling on her face. "I doubt that."
"Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because it wouldn’t be with you,” she wanted to say.
"I don’t know."
His chest tightened with the weight of what he couldn’t say.
"I’m sorry."
He didn’t mean it just for the moment but for all the things he could never tell her.
"I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to get hurt."
But sorry was never enough, and wishing could only take him so far.
He remembered this moment clearly, for it was the last time she allowed her feelings to show. After that day, she hid everything, burying it under a mask of friendship.
Then the Traveler came into their lives, and he felt her slipping away. They remained best friends, but something between them had irrevocably changed.
He didn’t hate the Traveler. He didn’t even envy them. After all, he had his chance, and he let it pass. But deep down, a part of him selfishly wished she hadn’t moved on.