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Jihoon knows the moment it starts going wrong.
It’s in the way Seungcheol looks at him. Not confused, not distant, but already guarded. Like he’s bracing himself before Jihoon even finishes signing.
Jihoon exhales sharply, hands already moving.
'You said you’d stay tonight.'
Seungcheol’s eyes flicker. His response comes after a beat, slower, like he’s choosing each word carefully.
'Something came up.'
Jihoon lets out a humorless breath, shoulders tightening. His fingers move again, quicker this time.
'Something always comes up.'
Seungcheol’s jaw shifts. A small thing. But, Jihoon notices. He always notices.
'That’s not fair.'
Jihoon almost laughs at that, but it comes out wrong—more like a silent scoff. His hands don’t stop.
'I wait for you.'
A pause.
'I plan around your schedule.'
'I adjust for you.'
Each sign sharper than the last, sounds of hand touching echoes.
'When do you do that for me?'
Seungcheol’s expression hardens, something defensive slipping in.
'I didn’t ask you to do all that.'
That hits harder than Jihoon expects.
For a second, his hands just… stop.
Like they’ve forgotten how to move.
His chest rises, uneven, and when he starts signing again, it’s slower but there’s something heavier behind it now.
'You didn’t have to ask.'
His fingers tremble, vision blurry.
'That’s what you do when you love someone.'
The word lingers between them.
Love.
Seungcheol looks away first.
Jihoon feels it like a physical thing.
The space between them stretches, thick and suffocating.
When Seungcheol signs again, it’s quicker. Rougher.
'I have responsibilities, Jihoon.'
Jihoon nods immediately. Too quickly.
'I know.'
He steps closer, not enough to touch, but enough that Seungcheol can’t avoid looking at him forever.
'I have always known.'
His hands move again, more faster now.
'That’s why I never complained before.'
Seungcheol’s gaze snaps back to his.
Jihoon swallows, forcing himself to keep going.
'But I’m tired.'
It hangs in the air, heavier than anything else he’s said.
Seungcheol’s shoulders tense.
Jihoon presses on, because if he stops now, he won’t be able to start again.
'I’m tired of feeling like I come second to everything.'
'I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt.'
His tears flow, but he refuses to stop signing.
'I’m tired of waiting for you to choose me.'
Seungcheol’s breath stutters—Jihoon sees it, even if he can’t hear it.
For a moment, neither of them moves.
Then Seungcheol signs, slower again, like he’s trying to steady himself.
'You think I don’t choose you?'
Jihoon hesitates.
Because that’s not what he meant.
But it’s what it feels like.
His hands hover in the air before finally moving.
'Not first.'
That’s all, just two signs. But it’s enough to make Seungcheol go still.
Jihoon regrets it immediately, but he doesn’t take it back. He can’t.
Seungcheol’s next words come out sharper than anything before.
'That’s not true.'
Jihoon shakes his head, quick, frustrated.
'Then why does it feel like it?'
Seungcheol doesn’t answer right away.
And that silence, Jihoon felt like it was confirmation.
His hands start moving again, faster now, emotion bleeding through every motion.
'You leave, you cancel. You say “next time” like it means something.'
His fingers falter for a second before continuing.
'But next time never feels like now.'
Seungcheol flinches.
Jihoon sees it.
And he still can’t stop.
'I need you now.'
That one comes out slower. Softer.
More honest.
'You don't feel my sorrow because you're too busy with you clients.'
A long pause.
Seungcheol looks at him, really looks at him this time.
And for a second, Jihoon thinks, maybe he's gonna change this time.
then Seungcheol’s expression shifts again. He looked distant.
'I can’t always be what you want.'
Jihoon blinks twice.
Like he didn’t understand.
Like he’s hoping he read it wrong.
'I’m not asking for everything' he signs, slower now, desperate creeping in.
'I’m asking for something.'
Seungcheol exhales, shoulders dropping.
'And I’m trying.'
Jihoon’s chest tightens.
'Then why does it feel like you’re not?'
No answer. Again.
Jihoon’s hands fall to his sides.
'That’s it, then.'
The silence settles. Heavy, final.
Seungcheol’s gaze lingers for a moment longer before he looks away.
And then he turns.
Jihoon freezes.
For a split second, he lets it happen.
Watches Seungcheol take one step. Then two.
And then panic crashes in.
Because this isn’t like other fights.
There’s no shouting after him.
No calling his name down a hallway.
No “wait” that can reach him.
If Seungcheol walks away, that’s it.
“Seungcheol-”
Jihoon says it anyway, voice breaking. But it’s useless.
Seungcheol doesn’t stop.
Jihoon’s breath stutters, and suddenly he’s moving—quick, desperate, closing the distance before it can become something he can’t fix.
He grabs Seungcheol’s wrist.
Not tight. Just enough.
Seungcheol stops and slowly turns back.
Jihoon steps in front of him, chest heaving, eyes watery.
For a second, he can’t move.
His hands hover uselessly between them.
Because everything he needs to say suddenly feels too much.
But he forces himself.
Every word deliberate.
'Don’t walk away.'
Seungcheol’s eyes lock onto his immediately.
Jihoon swallows hard, his fingers trembling as he continues.
'You can’t hear me if I call you.'
The realization sits between them.
Jihoon’s tears come crashing down, but he keeps going.
'Even if I run after you-'
His voice cracks, gands falter, then tighten.
'Even if I beg-'
Tears slip down before he can stop it.
He doesn’t wipe it away.
'You won’t know.'
Jihoon sobs.
Jihoon’s hands slow, softer now, like he’s handling something fragile.
Like he’s handing his heart over and hoping it won’t be dropped.
'So please…'
His breath catches.
'Stay.'
The last sign lingers in the space between them.
Small. But everything.
Jihoon’s hands lower slowly, like he’s already bracing for rejection.
For Seungcheol to pull away. To leave anyway.
But Seungcheol doesn’t move, doesn’t look away.
His gaze drops briefly to Jihoon’s hands that's still shaking then back to his face.
And something in his expression breaks.
His hand lifts, hesitant at first, like he’s not sure he has the right to.
before gently closing around Jihoon’s wrist.
Stopping him from pulling away this time.
And finally, Seungcheol signs back.
'I didn’t know it hurt this much.'
Jihoon looks up at him.
Seungcheol’s grip tightens, just slightly.
'I thought you were okay.'
Jihoon shakes his head immediately, tears falling freely.
'I wasn’t.'
Seungcheol nods once, slow, like he’s taking that in, really taking it in.
'I’m here now.'
Jihoon’s lips press together, because that’s not enough, but it’s something.
Seungcheol steps closer.
Not looking distant this time.
'I’ll stay, and I'll try to change for the better.'
And Jihoon believes him.