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Seulgi and Jaeyi were the perfect couple. The perfect match. At least, they were at the beginning. When everything felt easy between them, when they really talked to each other effortlessly, and the love was something they expressed without hesitation. Back then, Seulgi would catch Jaeyi stealing glances at her across the crowded rooms, with that unforgettable smirk lingering in her lips. Back then, Jaeyi would wake up to Seulgi’s soft kisses exploring every part of her body with only the gentleness that only she could give to her.
But now, things felt… different. Off. The whispers of love had turned just faded silences, and the comfortable warmth they once shared seemed to flicker uncertainly, like a flame struggling against the wind. There were still smiles, still touches, still kisses and gestures of affection… but they felt calculated, like a cheaper imitation of what they used to be.
The rumors didn’t help. Not the ones online that painted Jaeyi as someone untouchable, unreachable. Someone too far perfect for a person who is not in the media, who is no one. For someone like her. Nor the whispers of friends and strangers alike, speculating what was happening behind closed doors. She heard it all: the curious remarks about Jaeyi’s chemistry with her new co-star, the conspiracies about how “distant” Seulgi seemed whenever she appeared by her side.
Each of these comments planted a seed of doubt, growing wild inside of her. In the already fragile soil of her insecurities.
And then there were subtle changes: Jaeyi’s late night calls, her guarded smiles, the way she hid her phone more often than before. Seulgi knew she should ask, should talk about it… but fear clawed at her throat whenever she tried it.
What if asking only confirmed what she dreaded the most?
That she’s losing Jaeyi.
On the other hand, Jaeyi’s was supposed to be used to the whispers. She had been navigating those kinds of things for years. The murmurs followed her steps, the eyes that measured every glance, every touch, every word. Everything was part of the deal, part of pursuing her dreams. Even her most precious thing: her relationship with Seulgi. She knew it. She knew it all. But lately, those whispers had changed. They weren’t just curious, harmless comments. No, they were sharp edged rumors, insinuations that cut deeper than she would ever admit. Most of them spoke about her chemistry with Jo Ara—her co-star, some others spoke about her “perfect image”. But the worst, the ones she hated the most, were the ones where they questioned Seulgi.
Her girlfriend. Her savior. Her world.
And they questioned why someone like her, someone who had nothing to do with this world, would stay with someone like her. Someone who was never really there anymore. It stung because there were days where Jaeyi wondered the same. When Seulgi’s silence felt heavier than usual, when her touch seemed to withdraw before it could reach her. And when she saw Seulgi’s gaze clouded with something unreadable, something that made her stomach twist. The late-night meetings, the rehearsals that ran long, the distance that had grown so slowly she didn’t notice until it was a chasm between them. It all started to feel like excuses. Excuses for not talking, for not trying. For not fixing what they once had. She felt sick. She hated how the insecurities could clouded everything. But what she hated most were all of those stupid rumors that had managed to get into her head. Twisting and growing inside of her desperately, killing her from the inside.
One of those nights, Jaeyi opened the door of her apartment quietly, exhaustions weighing on her shoulders. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the lights outside. She slipped off her shoes and padded softly inside, blinking in an attempt to adjust her eyes to the low light. She was supposed to head straight to their room but something caught her attention faster. There, on the couch, was Seulgi. She was asleep. Her head rested against the armrest, her legs curled up and her pajamas pulled up a little. A small smile pulled at Jaeyi’s lips. For a second, it felt like nothing had changed. Like coming home to Seulgi was still her safe haven. Her heaven.
With no hesitation, she placed her bag down quietly, careful not to wake Seulgi, and moved toward the bedroom. Returning a few seconds later with a blanket in her hands, that she placed carefully in the body of her girlfriend. But then, she noticed it. In her hand, loosely hanging, was her phone —screen dim, but still on. The screen blinked softly, a notification lighting up. She couldn’t help it, and her gaze fell to the phone, curiosity outweighing guilt. "Kyungie: Don't forget tomorrow, okay? I'll help you, promise ;)" Jaeyi’s smile faltered. Her heart twisted slightly, a reaction she hated but couldn’t control. Why was Choi Kyung texting Seulgi this late? What was she reminding her of? What kind of help was she promising? She pulled her gaze away, hating the irrational jealousy that simmered beneath her skin. Maybe a shower would wash away the doubt creeping into her thoughts.
The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow on Seulgi's face. She blinked slowly, adjusting to the brightness, and reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed. But there was no other side. Nor a bed —she woke up on the couch. In the same position, but with something she didn’t have when she had fallen asleep. Something extra….the blanket. Jaeyi have been there, that was clear. But where was she now? The apartment was quiet, the silence almost uncomfortable. Something feels odd, but maybe it was just her head disturbing her. She let out a deep sigh as she sat up and stretched. Despite everything, perhaps today will be headed to something good.
As she moved around the living room, her eyes landed on the table where a half-filled coffee mug rested. Jaeyi’s usual quick fix before heading out. Maybe she was in a rush, right? The thought felt hollow, almost like an attempt at convincing. Next to it, Seulgi noticed a jacket slung over the back of a chair. She knew that jacket well. She was the one who gave it to her. She picked it up, pressing it close. The subtle trace of Jaeyi's perfume lingered, a scent that once grounded her but now felt like a reminder of someone halfway out the door. It was a bittersweet comfort, an anchor and a weight. A notification buzzed from her phone, drawing her out of her thoughts. It was Kyung: "I'll pick you up in an hour! Let’s get ready for tonight" Seulgi quickly texted back and went to prepare for the day. The scent of Jaeyi still lingered in the back of her mind, a mix of comfort and unease she couldn't shake off.
The streets were noisy, as usual. Seulgi didn't like the crowdedness, the chaotic blend of voices and traffic, but today there was a purpose behind it. Tonight was meant to be special. A chance to fix things, or at least to try. Change was good, right? Even if it felt heavy on her shoulders. Kyung walked beside her, weaving through the people with the same ease and energy that Seulgi had always envied. She pointed at the flower stands, the little cafés with their pastries displayed behind glass, her words lively and effortless. She nodded occasionally, her responses mechanical. Struggling a lot to focus, to be present, but her mind kept drifting back to that quiet, empty apartment.
A voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Earth calling Woo Seulgi” she muttered, waving a hand in front of her face.
She blinked, momentarily disoriented. The market noise settled back into her ears: vendors calling out, customers bargaining, the aroma of roasted chestnut and fried dough.
“Sorry, I’m zoned out,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.
Kyung tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully yet concerned. “You've been scattering all morning. What did Jaeyi do this time?”
"What? Nothing," Seulgi replied automatically. Then she caught Kyung's skeptical expression and sighed. "It’s nothing I swear. It’s just... Jaeyi and I have been off lately. She seems so distant, and I don't know if it's me or if... I don't know."
Kyung's gaze softened. She picked up a bundle of flowers, examining them before glancing back at Seulgi.
"Hey, it's okay," she started gently. "Relationships get messy. Yeri and I have had our moments. Especially when she's caught up in her schedule. Sometimes I think she loves her runway shoes more than me." She chuckled softly, but her tone was sincere. "But we always find a way to pull each other back. You know? Even if I have to drag her away from a shoot by threatening to file a labor law complaint, just so we can have some time together."
Seulgi managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "I just... I feel like I'm the only one trying lately. And maybe tonight's just another... attempt to convince myself that everything’s fine."
Kyung considered this, her fingers tapping the edge of the flower cart.
"Maybe tonight can be a chance to actually talk," she suggested carefully. "Like, really talk. Not just... pretending it's fine. You deserve to feel heard too, WooWoo."
There was a silence that followed, not uncomfortable, just thoughtful. The weight of Kyung's words settled in, heavy yet necessary. Seulgi nodded slowly, her gaze falling to the cobblestones beneath her feet.
"Yeah. I think you're right," she whispered. "I just hope she shows up."
Kyung's smile was warm and supportive, the kind Seulgi had always found comforting.
"And if she doesn't," Kyung nudged her gently, "then screw it. You still have us—Yeri and me. We can get fancy takeout, watch a terrible movie, and trash-talk the world. Just saying."
This time, Seulgi's smile was a little more real. "Thanks, Kyungie. For always being here."
"Enough! Don’t make this emotional, please,” Kyung grinned, looping her arm around Seulgi’s. "Now, help me choose the fanciest —and cheapest— bottle of wine we can find. I think this night deserves it."
And there she was.
The sun was setting, painting the sky in a lovely shade of amber and violet. The kind of landscape they both loved. The city seemed to be calming down, settling into the quiet of the night. Seulgi adjusted the table one last time, the plates perfectly aligned, the candles lit —a soft, flickering light that added warmth to the room. Anxiety was crawling in her.
She checked her reflection in the window, the ghostly outline of her face blending with the fading sky. Her hair was carefully styled, pulled back but with a few strands framing her face just the way Jaeyi liked. She had spent a good amount of time picking her outfit. A soft, cream-colored blouse that she once said brought out the warmth in her skin and simple black slacks that balanced casual and elegant. Not too formal, but not careless either. The kind of look that said: I tried, but not too hard .
On the table, she had set out their favorites: a dish she knew Jaeyi loved, the one she'd made for her on their first official date. A bowl of spicy seafood stew, still steaming gently, the rich aroma filling the room. A side of pickled radishes, crispy and tangy, and a small plate of neatly sliced fruit for dessert. Two glasses of wine, the deep red liquid catching the candlelight. The flowers she picked earlier —a mix of white lilies and baby’s breath— sat in a small vase at the center, simple but thoughtful. She had tried to create a space that felt warm, welcoming. A place where they could talk, where they could be them again.
But as the minutes passed, the hope that had bloomed with every careful detail began to wilt. The anticipation that once felt like butterflies now felt like something heavier, a weight pressing against her ribs. She glanced at her phone, its screen dark and unmoving. She had promised herself not to check it, to wait until the sound of keys at the door or a knock announced Jaeyi’s arrival. But the silence was stretching thin, snapping her resolve little by little.
Her mind wandered to the last time they had shared a meal without the weight of tension hanging between them. When Jaeyi would reach across the table, fingers grazing Seulgi's wrist as she stole bites with a playful grin. When the space between them felt safe, not charged and precarious. Seulgi wondered if tonight could be a chance to mend what had frayed between them. If maybe, just maybe, Jaeyi would see the effort she had put in —the small attempts to show that she cared, that she still wanted this.
The clock's steady ticking grew louder. The candles burned lower, the wax pooling and hardening at their bases. The food was cooling, the steam dissipating slowly. The stew that once looked inviting now seemed untouched and lonely, a testament to the effort she had made and the absence that echoed through the room.
Finally, the weight of the silence pushed her to reach for her phone. Her heart sank as she saw the message, a quick, impersonal note:
"Got caught up in a meeting. Don't wait up for me, okay?"
She read it twice, as if the words might change, soften, apologize. But they didn’t. Twelve words. No apology, no acknowledgment of the effort she had made. Not even a promise of redemption. Not even a “princess,” not even emojis. Just a fact, curt and cold.
Seulgi set the phone down carefully, her fingers lingering on the screen for a moment longer before letting it go. Her eyes returned to the table —the carefully prepared meal, the flickering candles, the flowers beginning to droop. The effort felt hollow now, like a play staged for an audience that never showed up. She sat down, her appetite gone but unwilling to let everything go to waste. The first bite was lukewarm, the flavors dulled by the chill that had settled in the room. She chewed slowly, each mouthful a reminder of the night she had hoped for but never came. Her eyes kept drifting to the empty chair across from her, the space that should have been filled by her girlfriend’s presence. Yet she wasn’t there…. as lately.
After a while, she cleared the table quietly, the sound of plates and silverware clinking against the sink echoing in the emptiness. She blew out the candles, their wicks smoking softly, a thin, ghostly trail that faded into nothing. When she finally retreated to her room, the city outside had fallen completely into night. Her reflection in the window was just her own —no longer softened by the fading light, no longer a hopeful silhouette. Just her, standing alone in the silence she couldn't escape.
Just her waiting for a sign, a small sign to keep her from hurting like it was doing now. She just needs something.
To RISK all for.
To FIGHT for.
To LOVE for.
Her phone let out a weak beep before the screen went black, leaving her alone with the reflection of her own frustrated expression. Great. No signal, no battery and the meeting still dragging on longer than expected. She had tried to apologize, to soften the message for her girlfriend, but the words had come out curt and rushed. Now, with no way to fix it, Jaeyi could only hope Seulgi would understand. That she wouldn't take it the wrong way.
She really prayed for that.
The meeting kept spiraling in endless loops of opinion and creative adjustments, but wasn’t paying attention. She hadn’t wanted to be there at first. Her manager threw her pointed looks whenever she glanced at the door or checked the time, but she couldn’t care less. She just wanted to be home, to make it back before Seulgi turned off the lights and gave up waiting. The creative leads debated the smallest details of the script, and she just nodded along mechanically. It was important, of course. But she had something more important to think about… like her own relationship and how badly she wants to repair it, to burn all of the bad stuff away and let that love consume her whole.
Because that was what Seulgi did to her. She made her reckless, impulsive, willing to ruin the world just to keep her. To scream her love until her voice broke. To shatter her pride just for her.
Everything just for HER .
And all of this led her to buy something. Something to offer peace and reassurance. A gift. Seulgi’s gift, just for her. It was still in her bag, carefully wrapped. She had thought about how excited Seulgi might be when she saw it —a small, thoughtful gesture meant to say “ I’m sorry, I care and I’m willing to try ” without needing words. But now after that cold, dry message, she worried it wouldn’t land the way she intended. She had been so desperate to communicate, to let Seulgi know she was thinking of her, that she had sent those blunt, rushed words without considering how they might be received. And when her phone had died, cutting any chance of fixing it, it felt like a metaphor she didn’t have the time to dissect.
Finally, when they had everything arranged and the meeting was over, Jaeyi managed to slip away, almost tripping over her own feet in her hurry. She dodged the attempts of her manager to hold her back with more “just one more thing” demands. There was no more time. She had to be at home. She NEEDED to be at home. NOW. Reaching her car, she threw herself into the driver’s seat, her fingers frantically searching through the glove compartment. Her charger had to be there. Somewhere. It had to be.
Empty.
“Fuck” she muttered, a frustrated, tired sigh escaping her. She leaned back against the headrest for a second, staring at the car ceiling, willing the world to give her a break. Just one. But there was no time to sulk.
The drive home felt endless, every red light a small torment, every car that hesitated a source of irritation. Her fingers tapped restlessly on the steering wheel, her mind spinning.
What if Seulgi had already gone to bed, disappointed and hurt?
What if she thought Jaeyi didn't care?
What if she was too late to fix things?
Her eyes kept darting to her dead phone, the dark screen an unsettling silence that gnawed at her. She didn’t even have the comfort of hearing Seulgi’s voice —even if it was just to hear her sigh, just to know she was still there, still waiting. The weight of the gift in her bag felt heavier with each passing second, the intention behind it slipping further away the longer it took her to get home.
She finally pulled into the driveway, the sight of the dark windows making her heart sink. Jaeyi hesitated for a moment, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles went white. What if Seulgi didn't want to see her right now? What if it was too late? But this was Seulgi. Her Seulgi. The person she was willing to break her pride for. The one she was willing to ruin herself for. So she stepped out of the car, clutching the gift tightly in her hands, and prepared herself for whatever would come next. When she arrived, the anxiety had made a mess inside of her. The seconds to reach their floor felt like an eternity. Love and fear mixed all her thoughts as she tried to find the words to explain herself. To redeem herself. To save her heart and her world.
The lights were off when she opened the door. No sign of Seulgi, no sleepy smile, no soft “welcome home.” A hollow feeling settled in her chest. She stepped inside quietly, almost afraid to disturb something fragile. The wrapped gift felt heavy in her hand.
"Princess...?" she called softly, but only silence answered.
The room was tidy, too tidy —the kind of order that comes when someone needs to clear their head, when they wait and wait and finally give up. Jaeyi set the gift down on the table beside her keys. Her vision blurred for a second, but she blinked it away. Her throat felt dry, and her chest was heavy. What was this feeling? Was she really losing her girlfriend? That simple thought drove Jaeyi insane. Her whole body aching, begging to stop it.
Maybe in the morning, everything would feel a little less cold, a little less distant. She sank onto the couch, wondering when they had become this. Two people sharing the same space but not the same closeness.
Lovers in fact but emotionally strangers.
How had she let this happen? Jaeyi's fingers traced the edge of a couch’s pad, her chest tightening with regret. She had just wanted to show Seulgi that she still cared. That she was still trying. But now, the silence felt like punishment —like an answer she wasn't ready to face.
She was awake.
Of course she was. She had always been stupidly weakened by Jaeyi. Of course she wouldn’t close her eyes until she was at home. In their bed. The cold bed. At least as a ghost but there… When had she fallen asleep? She had no idea, but she was fully aware of how much she had cried the night before. How her heart was aching with all of the thoughts of Jaeyi’s silence and void.
Morning light filtered through the curtains, pale and indifferent. It shouldn't have surprised her that it was already daytime, yet the brightness felt like a betrayal —a reminder that another night had passed with nothing resolved. Her pillow was still damp from tears, her eyes heavy and sore. She had tried to convince herself that Jaeyi would come home, that she had a reason for her silence. That the curt message wasn't a sign of another fracture. But as the hours passed and the shadows of the room grew longer, that hope had crumbled.
The room felt too still, too heavy. Jaeyi lay beside her, back turned, her breathing even and steady. Seulgi wondered if she was truly asleep or just pretending, trapped in the same unbearable silence that had settled between them. The space between their bodies was small, yet it felt insurmountable —a chasm filled with words unspoken, with wounds left open.
Her gaze lingered on Jaeyi's back, the slope of her shoulder, the strands of hair that fell against her neck. How many times had she traced those lines with affection? How many times had this same bed been a sanctuary, a place where they could share every thought, every fear, every dream? Now, it was a battleground of silence —both of them awake, neither daring to reach out.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket. She hated this. Hated feeling like she was begging for scraps of affection. Hated how she felt both too much and not enough all at once. Hated how love could turn into this unbearable, suffocating weight. Seulgi shifted, pressing her forehead against her knees, drawing in a shuddering breath. When had it become like this? When had they gone from sharing every thought to fearing each other's silence? From craving each other's presence to dreading these strained, suffocating pauses?
She thought of all the nights they'd stayed up talking until dawn, tangled in each other's arms. When laughter came easily, when even the silence between them felt safe and comforting. Now, the silence was a chasm. A vast, uncharted territory filled with miscommunication and doubt. What hurt most was knowing that, deep down, she still loved Jaeyi fiercely. That part of her still wanted to believe that love could mend what had broken, that they could find their way back to each other. But every attempt seemed to push them further apart, like two magnets of the same polarity.
Her eyes drifted to the clock. It was already late morning —too late to fix anything, too late to try. But if she didn’t move now, if she let this moment slip away, she feared she might lose Jaeyi for good. Slowly, she turned to face Jaeyi, her heart thundering in her chest.
"Jaeyi-ah...?" she called softly, her voice barely a whisper.
Would she answer? Would she even acknowledge her? Or was it already too late?
For a moment, there was nothing. Just the weight of her whisper hanging in the air, fragile and exposed. Seulgi’s pulse thumped in her ears, a steady, anxious beat that drowned out everything else. In the killing silence of the room. Leaving her doomed to torment. And then, a shift. Jaeyi stirred —not a startled movement, but a slow, deliberate acknowledgment. Her body curled in slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if bracing herself. Seulgi's heart plummeted.
Would Jaeyi turn to face her, or would she remain a silent figure on the other side of the bed, separated by that unbearable distance?
“Jaeyi-ah...” Seulgi's voice trembled, a thread pulled too tight. She wasn't sure what she was asking for —an answer, forgiveness, a glimpse of the love they used to share. Anything that could bridge this unbearable void.
Jaeyi's hummed something, like it was her subconscient doing things in automatic. After that, her eyes finally opened, unfocused at first, adjusting to the morning light. There was a moment when they met Seulgi's gaze, and in that fleeting second, it felt like everything could fall into place —like they could speak, and it would be okay. But Jaeyi's expression was guarded, tired, a mask worn from too many sleepless nights and unspoken wounds.
"You’re awake" Jaeyi murmured, her voice low and raspy.
"Yeah..." Seulgi's reply felt too small, like it barely made it out of her throat. Her fingers twisted in the blanket, the fabric digging into her palms. There was a part of her that wanted to reach out, to touch Jaeyi's shoulder, to hold her and feel the warmth of her skin. But fear held her back —fear of rejection, fear of making it worse, fear of watching Jaeyi pull away completely.
Seconds dragged into silence. Heavy, suffocating silence. The kind that had settled so easily between them lately, stubborn and unyielding.
"I waited for you," Seulgi finally whispered, the words so quiet they almost disappeared. Her eyes stung, the ache in her chest expanding with every heartbeat. She hadn't meant to sound so fragile, so broken. But it was the truth —a truth that clung to her ribs, heavy and unrelenting.
Jaeyi's gaze flickered, a moment of hesitation crossing her face. Her lips parted as if to speak, but then she hesitated, the words swallowed by hesitation or fear. Seulgi wondered if Jaeyi had any idea how desperately she wanted to hear something —anything— that could assure her they weren't completely shattered. The morning light continued to filter in, casting pale shadows across the sheets. It was ironic, how the day outside promised warmth and renewal, yet inside this room, they were trapped in the cold, in the remnants of a love that felt too fractured to heal.
"Seulgi..." Jaeyi finally spoke, her voice barely audible. Her gaze was fixed on the window, on the light that seeped through the curtains. "Sorry."
The admission hung in the air, raw and exposed. Seulgi's heart twisted painfully, caught between the hope that Jaeyi's honesty could be a step forward and the fear that it was simply a confession of defeat.
"I’m sorry too," Seulgi breathed, her voice barely holding together. "I think we both know we should—"
Seulgi's throat felt raw, her voice caught somewhere between apology and confession. The weight of everything she wanted to say hung heavy between them, pressing against her ribs. Jaeyi's eyes, still focused on the window, glimmered with something unreadable. Seulgi wondered if it was regret or exhaustion —maybe both. Or maybe there was something she was afraid to see: tiredness.
“Not now, please…”
Before she could overthink it, Jaeyi’s hand moved instinctively, reaching out for her arm. Her fingers found the bare skin of her wrist, warm but somehow distant. She didn't pull away, but she didn't lean into the touch either. Her gaze finally shifted from the window to Seulgi, a flicker of recognition that was gone just as quickly.
The silence stretched, taut and brittle. Jaeyi’s thumb traced a slow, hesitant circle against her girlfriend’s skin, a gesture that had once been comforting —a quiet reassurance. Now, it felt hesitant, uncertain, a desperate attempt to hold onto something slipping away. Jaeyi's shoulders sagged just a little, the smallest indication of surrender. She leaned forward, and for a moment, Seulgi's heart surged, foolishly hoping that maybe, just maybe, they could close the distance. But when Jaeyi's head rested against her shoulder, it was a weight rather than a relief. A body seeking rest, not closeness.
Her arms wrapped around her almost reflexively, out of muscle memory rather than true intimacy. The embrace was brief, a hollow imitation of what it used to be. Jaeyi pulled away too quickly, the space between them widening again. And then, without fully realizing it, Seulgi leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jaeyi's temple. It was a gesture they used to share in quiet mornings —a silent “I’m here,” a promise that didn’t need words. But now, it felt like a mistake. The contact was met with a slight, tense exhale from Jaeyi, a signal that it wasn’t welcome, not really.
Seulgi's heart twisted painfully. Her hand free from Jaeyi's careness, the touch slipping away like sand through her fingers.
“I'm going to make some coffee,” Jaeyi whispered, her voice barely steady. She didn't wait for a response, didn't meet her gaze. Just a step back, a retreat, and then the sound of her footsteps fading down the hallway.
Seulgi stayed frozen for a moment, the remnants of the failed embrace still clinging to her skin. The bed felt too big now, the morning light too harsh. Every effort to reach out felt like another fracture —a reminder of the distance they couldn't seem to close.
The kitchen felt colder than usual.
Or maybe it was just her.
Her hands moved automatically —taking out the coffee beans, filling the kettle, setting up the filter. Badump . The rhythm that was familiar, even grounded her, but now it wasn’t stopping the way her mind was spiraling. On and on, repeat after repeat. She scooped the beans, but her grip faltered, and a few spilled onto the counter, rolling aimlessly before settling. Her breath hitched. Settle . She wished she could do the same—find a resting place, a moment of quiet where her thoughts wouldn’t consume her whole.
But the silence around her was too heavy. Too loud.
She turned on the kettle, the faint hum filling the space. It should have been comforting. Instead, it felt like a countdown. Like she was waiting for something to break.
Maybe it already had.
“I think we both know we should—?”
That unfinished sentence echoed in her mind, looping like a cruel melody. She had felt it coming, hadn’t she? Of course, she hadn’t been blind all this time. Maybe she had pretended to be, but not with this. Not with Seulgi. She could never turn a blind eye to something that was happening to her. Of course she had felt the tension that had been lingering between them for weeks, the growing distance, the way Seulgi looked at her with something that was no longer sadness, but something worse —resignation. Like she had already made up her mind. And that was breaking her. Shattering her beyond repair.
“Not now, please”
She had said it before she could stop herself. Before she had to hear the words she wasn’t ready to face. Before she had to tear apart her own pain to see her happy… because she would do it. Of course, a thousand times if it was necessary. But now? Now it feels too early. If she didn’t hear them, if she avoided the conversation a little longer, maybe she could delay the inevitable. Maybe she could hold onto this last, fragile thread of them.
That wasn't selfish, was it?
Jaeyi’s poured the hot water over the coffee grounds, watching as the liquid darkened. She wished she could do the same with her own thoughts, with her own feelings —pour them out, let them settle into something clear, something easy to understand. But everything was a mess. She knew they weren’t okay. She knew that every silence, every missed touch, every empty "goodnight" was a sign that they were unraveling.
But knowing didn’t mean accepting. And accepting meant losing Seulgi.
She gripped the edge of the counter, fingers pressing into the cold surface. Maybe it’s for the best. The thought came unbidden, sharp and bitter. Maybe Seulgi deserved better—someone who didn’t leave her waiting, someone who didn’t shut down every time things got hard. Someone who wasn't a coward when it comes to the love of their life. Maybe she had already failed too many times to fix this.
And yet.
The memory of her warmth, of the way Seulgi had held her just minutes ago, even if it had been brief, lingered like a phantom touch. It hadn’t felt like comfort. It had felt like a goodbye disguised as an embrace. The coffee was ready, but she didn't move. Her breath felt shallow, her chest tight. The thought of going back to the bedroom—of facing Seulgi, of pretending things were fine—was unbearable.
Would it hurt less if she was the one to walk away first?
No. She couldn't walk away without fighting, could she?
The coffee was ready. Should she call for Seulgi or wait for her? Why do these simple questions feel like a reflection of her own situation? Letting out a deep sigh, Jaeyi chose to follow her heart. Perhaps she had to make the first move. Even if it was something as small as a cup of coffee. Reaching Seulgi’s favorite cup, she prepared it just the way she knew her girlfriend adores her coffee—a cup half coffee, half milk. No sugar. Served without a spoon, with a small plate underneath, because Seulgi liked to let it rest before taking the first sip. What if this was enough to reach her? To fix things before they shattered completely?
Her fingers hesitated around the handle of the cup, her pulse thrumming against her skin. This was ridiculous—getting worked up over a cup of coffee like it was some kind of peace offering. But wasn’t it? Wasn’t she always the one too afraid to reach out first? She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering toward the small box sitting on their table.
The promise ring.
It had been sitting there since last night, carefully wrapped, waiting for the right moment. The moment that Jaeyi thought it was today… unfortunately it wasn’t. The kind of gift which expresses a promise to try, to hold on, to believe that what they had was still worth saving. Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was desperate, but she didn’t care. This was her last —and best move.
She exhaled, taking the small box, steeling herself, and finally turned—only to freeze in place. Seulgi was already there, standing by the doorway. Her gaze was downcast, her phone in her hands. But as soon as Jaeyi’s eyes landed on her, she tucked it away, fast. Jaeyi’s stomach twisted painfully. The rational part of her told her not to jump to conclusions. But hadn’t she spent enough time ignoring the signs? The late-night texts, the shift in Seulgi’s demeanor, the way she always seemed to hesitate before answering her.
Hadn’t she already been here before?
Something in her deflated.
"Your coffee is ready," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
She set the cup down on the counter—then, after a pause, glanced toward the small wrapped box on the table. Her fingers twitched at her sides. Should she give it to her? Would it even matter? The doubt was suffocating. And before she could overthink it any further, she turned away. Jaeyi walked past Seulgi without another word, missing the way Seulgi’s brows furrowed in confusion. She also missed the way Seulgi’s gaze followed hers, landing on the small wrapped box —the gift she had left behind. And she definitely missed the way Seulgi hesitantly reached for it, her breath catching the moment she realized what it was. Because Jaeyi had already convinced herself it was too late to turn back.
"What is this?" Seulgi muttered, holding up the small box in her hand.
Jaeyi's throat tightened. "A gift..." The truth rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. However, the lie that formed behind it could have stopped her, "You know how the fans are."
Badump.
Seulgi didn’t flinch with that answer. She didn’t show any emotion, didn’t even try to open the box. She just let out a deep sigh —the kind that sounded like resignation, like she had finally reached her limit. And that scared Jaeyi to her deep. She knew this was her chance to make things right but she was scared as hell. Her mind had been spiraling ever since she laid eyes on Seulgi, and her heart ached to reach for her. To comfort her. To promise the forever they deserved. And yet she was there breaking two hearts with lies.
"Drop it, Yoo Jaeyi." The words came out quiet, firm—heavy with exhaustion. Jaeyi's eyes widened. "Wha—"
"You know what?" Seulgi cut her off before she could even start. "I'm done. I’m so fucking done. This stupid back and forth, never knowing what’s real with you anymore. I don’t know about you but I can’t keep doing this. I don’t even recognize you. It’s like you’re just a ghost of someone I used to know."
Jaeyi felt her heart clench, but before she could say anything, Seulgi continued, "If you ever decide to be honest—actually honest, you know where to find me."
She stepped past Jaeyi, making her way toward the door. "But right now? I just need to be alone. So thanks for the coffee… but I’m leaving." And just like that, she left. Leaving Jaeyi standing there—hands empty, heart heavier than ever.
Tic, tac.
Something was wrong.
The hours had passed and with them the hope of actually talking to Seulgi. She had been crying since her girlfriend had left the apartment, but something feels different now. Jaeyi doesn’t notice at first. It starts as an uneasy feeling, a whisper in the back of her mind that she tries to ignore while she buried herself in her own pain. She had spent the past hours convincing herself that Seulgi just needed space, that she'd come back once she cooled down. That this was just another fight—painful, yes, but not the kind that would break them for good.
But this feeling? This was something else. It wasn’t just sadness anymore, it was dread. She wiped at her swollen eyes, forcing herself to breathe, but her chest was tight—too tight. A sudden, irrational fear clawed its way up her throat. Seulgi wasn’t answering. She wasn’t texting. She had never been gone this long without a single word.
Jaeyi grabbed her phone with trembling hands, pressing the call button.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
No answer.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Her stomach twisted. She tells herself it’s fine. That Seulgi is probably just busy. But her fingers tighten around her phone, her heart pounding a little too fast. Minutes turn into an hour. Then two. Jaeyi keeps checking her phone, over and over, as if she missed a notification, as if Seulgi had called and she didn’t hear it. But there’s nothing.
The uneasiness turns into full-blown panic.
The apartment felt suffocating now, like the walls were closing in on her. She needed air. No—she needed her . Seulgi had left angry, yes, but she had never disappeared like this before. She grabs her jacket and stumbles out of her apartment without even thinking. Where was she? Why wasn’t she picking up? Her body moves before her brain catches up, her feet already carrying her down the streets as she presses the phone to her ear again.
Still no answer.
Her breathing is shallow. The city feels too big, too empty. She calls again. And again. Still nothing. A lump forms in her throat. She can’t—she can’t do this Jaeyi's pulse pounded in her ears as she swiped through her contacts and pressed Kyung’s name.
“Hello?”
“Is she with you?” Jaeyi asked, her voice tight, barely above a whisper. A pause.
“Who?”
“Seulgi. Where is she?”
“…I don’t know. I thought she was with you.”
Silence. It felt like the floor had just disappeared beneath her feet. The weight in her chest sank deeper. She didn’t even say goodbye. Didn’t stop to think. Her fingers barely registered the way they tightened around her phone before she hung up. Then suddenly, she was moving. Her body acted before her brain could catch up, her legs carrying her forward in a blind, frantic sprint.
Where? She didn’t know. She just had to find her.
The night air bit at her skin, cold and unforgiving, but she barely felt it. Her pulse was hammering in her ears, drowning out anything else. In the back of her mind she knew people were recognizing her but she was relieved neither of them tried to stop her, they just opened ways for her to continue her way. Wherever it was.
Please, please, please…
She tried calling again. Nothing. No answer. No Seulgi. She ran faster. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, but she couldn’t stop. Every second that passed felt like another piece of her slipping away. This wasn’t just fear anymore. This was terror. Because for the first time, Jaeyi didn’t just feel like she was losing her. She felt like she had already lost her. She checked the first place that came to mind.
A café they used to go to when they needed to escape the world. It was closed.
Then the park. Empty.
Then the viewpoint. Nothing.
Panic clawed at her throat. Her chest was aching, her vision becoming blurry, her hands cold and clammy as she pressed the call button over and over, desperate, desperate, but the line just kept ringing into nothingness. The fear was choking her. Her knees buckled. She dropped onto the sidewalk, hands trembling as she gripped her phone like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. The city lights blurred around her, flickering through her unshed tears. She had never felt this kind of fear before. Not like this.
Because this wasn’t just fear.
This was not knowing if she was safe.
This was realizing too late that she should have never let her leave in the first place.
Her throat tightened. She pressed a fist against her lips, trying to keep the sob inside, but her whole body was shaking. The memories flood in, unbidden.
Seulgi’s laughter, bright and careless, like sunlight.
Seulgi’s hands, always warm, always steady.
Seulgi’s voice, calm, soft, familiar.
Seulgi’s boba eyes, dark and deep, the only place that has ever felt like home.
What if she never finds her? What if she's too late? What if... what if...
And then— A buzz. A notification. Her phone lit up in her hands. It was a direct message from X from Yeri. A tweet.
“Guys! Isn’t that Yoo Jaeyi’s girlfriend? Why is she there and with lots of bottles?”
Attached: A picture. Jaeyi’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers moved before she could think, tapping the image. Her heart lurched. It was dark, blurry, but she knew that silhouette anywhere.
Seulgi. Sitting alone. Bottles surrounding her.
Jaeyi didn’t even process what she was doing before she was running again. Faster than before. Faster than her body could keep up with. Her lungs burned, her legs screamed but she didn’t care. Not even a little. Because this wasn’t just about finding her anymore. This was about not losing her completely.
The skate park was almost empty when she got there. Only one person still remained, sitting alone in the dim light. Curled in on herself, shoulders shaking. She didn’t have to guess who it was, because she already knew. The only person capable of making her run as if her life depended on it. And yet it did.
But Seulgi didn’t look up. Didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch when Jaeyi stumbled to a stop in front of her, chest heaving, lungs burning. For a moment, all she could do was stare —at the girl she had been willing to tear the city apart for. The girl she loved, loves and always will love. Then she saw it. The way Seulgi’s hands gripped her knees too tight. The way her shoulders shook, not from the cold, but from something deeper. And when the dim light hit her face just right, Jaeyi’s breath caught in her throat.
Seulgi wasn’t just crying.
She was breaking. In a way she hadn’t seen her in years.
And that? That hurt the most.
She felt it before she saw it.
A shift in the air. A presence. A warmth she thought she’d lost. Seulgi kept her head down, fingers tightening around the fabric of her jeans. She had spent the past hours drowning herself in alcohol, in regret, in everything she had never been strong enough to say out loud. But the truth was—it had all started much earlier. She had left. She had walked away feeling like she couldn’t breathe. They had fought before, sure, but this time, something had been different. Harsher. Final. She slammed the door on her way out, not realizing how badly her hands were shaking until much later. And how it felt like her heart had stayed behind.
At first, she wandered aimlessly, convincing herself that if she stopped moving, her body would betray her and force her to go back. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. First, it was the coffee shop. Their coffee shop. She ordered her usual, but the first sip tasted like ash. She left it untouched on the table, walking out before the barista could ask if she was okay.
Then, the park. She sat under the shade of a tree Jaeyi loved, hands stuffed in her pockets, stomach twisting with something she refused to name. She pulled out her phone more than once. Saw the lock screen. Their picture. She locked the phone before she could talk herself into calling. Time slipped by without her noticing. The weight in her chest grew heavier. And then —a notification light up.
Jaeyi. Jo Ara.
A blurry picture from across the room. Jaeyi laughing, leaning into Ara, their shoulders pressed together. A caption underneath, teasing, easy, almost cruel:
“The chemistry is INSANE. They need to kiss already.”
Seulgi stopped breathing. A chill ran down her spine, curling around her ribs, tightening. The comments below weren’t much better. They ranged from “What a nice couple!” to “Doesn't Jaeyi's girlfriend feel insecure? I’d feel so jealous of this”. She knew what the truth was. She knew Jaeyi had probably been looking for her all day. She knew Ara was just Jaeyi’s friend, knew that their bond was nothing compared to what they had—
But what if it was?
What if Jaeyi was better off?
What if she had spent the day trying to find Seulgi, only to realize she didn’t need to?
The thought lodged itself in her throat, thick and suffocating.
Before she even knew what she was doing, she was walking.
Then running.
Then drinking.
And now… Now, she was here.
The alcohol didn't help. Neither the first bottle. Nor the second. Nor the third. It didn't numb anything. It didn't make her forget. It only made her more aware of what she had done. That Jaeyi had not followed her this time. That she might never follow her again.
That's when the calls came.
She saw her name on the screen. She felt the world stop. But her body didn't move. Her finger didn't slide across the screen. She let it ring until it went off. Until it was too late. Until she realized that, for the first time, she was afraid she couldn't go back. The city had felt vast and empty all night. But now, for the first time, she felt something else. A pull. A gravity. Like she was no longer alone. Then, a breath. A gasp. A presence so familiar it made her stomach twist.
Jaeyi.
She didn’t need to look up to know she was there. She felt her. Felt her eyes on her, felt the way she had always been the only person in the world capable of finding her no matter how lost she was. But she couldn’t move. She didn’t know how to look at her. Not when she had done this. Not when she had made her run through the city, desperate and terrified. But then—soft footsteps. Closer. Hesitant. And then, a weight, warm and real, collapsing against her. Arms around her. Fingers gripping her jacket like Jaeyi was the one who was afraid of being left behind.
And that? That was all it took. The dam broke.
Seulgi didn’t move. She couldn’t. Jaeyi was holding her. Clutching her. Arms wrapped so tightly around her that Seulgi could feel everything—the way she was gasping for breath, the way her fingers trembled against the fabric of her jacket. She wasn’t sure if Jaeyi was holding onto her to keep Seulgi from slipping away or if she was the one on the verge of falling apart.
Maybe both.
It should have made it easier. Should have made Seulgi lift her arms and hold her back. But all she felt was guilt. It weighed on her, made her chest cave in. Because she had done this. She had made Jaeyi feel this way. And still, even as she sat there, frozen, unmoving—the tears wouldn’t stop. They slipped down her cheeks, warm and relentless, one after another, as if her body had decided to break down for her.
And then—
“You left” Jaeyi’s voice was quiet. But it landed like a punch to the ribs. Seulgi flinched. “You just—left.” The words weren’t loud, but they cut. "No warning. No text. No calls."
Jaeyi’s breath hitched. She felt it against her own skin, the way each word trembled, barely held together. Her throat was closing up. Seulgi could hear the way her girlfriend struggled to breathe, could feel it in the uneven rise and fall of her chest. Like she was choking on everything she had kept inside.
"I looked for you.” Her voice broke. “I— I thought something happened. I thought—”
She didn’t finish. Didn’t have to. Seulgi felt it. Felt the way Jaeyi’s breath hitched, the way her grip on her jacket tightened, like she was trying to ground herself. Because of her. Because of what she had made her think. A choked sound slipped from her lips. Her body moved before she could stop it, arms finally, finally wrapping around Jaeyi.
"I know." Her voice cracked. She buried her face against Jaeyi’s shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. She was so warm. So solid. So here. "I know. I'm—" But the words didn’t come. One I’m sorry wasn’t enough.
Jaeyi’s hands clenched into fists against her back. "You don’t get to do that." The words were sharper now, raw and exposed. She was crying. "You don’t get to walk away and make me feel like—like I cannot reach you anymore. You don’t get to disappear like this ever again."
Seulgi stopped breathing. Her whole body locked up, muscles tensing so hard they ached. The words hit something deep, something she hadn’t wanted to name. Jaeyi pulled back just enough to look at her. Her face was close, too close, eyes red-rimmed and glistening. But she wasn’t just crying. She was angry. She was hurt.
"I saw it," she whispered. “I saw it all.”
Seulgi blinked. "What?"
"The tweets." Oh. Her stomach turned to ice. Jaeyi’s lip trembled.
"The rumors. The comments. The things people said." Her breath hitched, a small, sharp sound that made Seulgi feel like something was clawing at her chest from the inside.
"And I realized something. It wasn’t Ara. It was never about her. It was always you." She continued. A sharp inhale. Seulgi barely registered it as her own.
"You thinking I’d be better off." Jaeyi’s fingers tightened. "You convincing yourself I don’t need you."
Seulgi couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t. Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was too much—too heavy, too weak, too afraid.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" Jaeyi’s voice was quieter now. Gentler. But it was the kind of softness that made her feel like her ribs were being split open. "This isn’t us.” Jaeyi’s forehead pressed against hers, and Seulgi felt it in her bones—the ache, the grief, the longing. Their breaths tangled in the space between them, shallow and uneven. “We’re not supposed to be like this. What happened to us?"
Seulgi let out a shuddering breath. And before she could stop herself— "Because I’m scared."
The words slipped out before she could swallow them down. Jaeyi inhaled sharply. Seulgi felt herself breaking. Her head dropped forward, forehead pressing against Jaeyi’s.
"Because I don’t know how to be the person you deserve," she whispered, voice wrecked. "Because I look at you, and you’re—" She let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. A broken thing. A broken something. "You’re everything. And I’m just… me."
A shaky exhale. Then—hands. Warm. Steady. Cupping her face, forcing her to look, really look. Jaeyi’s eyes locked onto hers. Dark. Intense. Unwavering.
"Listen to me," she whispered, voice steady now. Unshakable. Seulgi was trembling. Jaeyi’s thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles against her skin, grounding her, pulling her back from the edge. "You are not something I have to settle for." A tear slipped down her cheek. Jaeyi caught it with her thumb. "You are not something I have to endure."
Her touch was firm, grounding , real .
"You are not a mistake."
Seulgi made a noise—a small, broken sound, raw and exposed and aching. Jaeyi pulled her closer. Closer. Until Seulgi stopped shaking. Until she let herself breathe. Until she let herself believe.
“I chose you. You are my princess, Woo Seulgi.” Jaeyi’s voice was quiet but sure, steady in a way that left no room for doubt. Her fingers traced Seulgi’s jaw, tilting her face up, forcing her to see, to understand . “Don’t you dare to call my princess a nothing,”
A pause. Jaeyi’s breath ghosted over her lips, soft and warm.
“Because she’s everything.”
Seulgi still feels like the world is tilting under her feet, but Jaeyi is there, holding her. Not with force, not with desperation, but with something real. She closes her eyes, letting the warmth envelop her.
When she speaks, her voice is barely a whisper: “So... Can I stay?”
And then she saw it. That smirk. A little broken, a little tired, but sincere. The smirk that was only for her. Jaeyi exhales, resting her forehead against Seulgi’s. Her fingers slip through her hair, gentle, almost like she’s trying to memorize her all over again.
“Always.”
And for the first time in a long time, Seulgi really believed it. She could breathe well. She let her body and heart heal with the warmth of their love.