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Megan didn’t realize how loud silence could be until Yoonchae left.
Like actually left.
Not the dramatic “I need space” type of leaving where you still text goodnight and send each other TikToks at 2am. No. This was the kind of leaving where the apartment felt bigger, colder, like the walls themselves were judging her. Like even the air knew she messed up.
It had been three weeks.
Three whole weeks without Yoonchae’s voice echoing through the kitchen, without her random little dances while waiting for the microwave, without her stealing Megan’s hoodies and pretending they weren’t already hers.
Three weeks of Megan staring at her phone, typing and deleting messages that never got sent.
Three weeks of pretending she was fine.
She was not fine.
Not even a little bit.
At first, she told herself it was necessary. That whole “I just need to figure myself out” speech? Yeah. She meant it. At the time, at least.
Because the truth was, Megan had been terrified.
Not of Yoonchae.
Never Yoonchae.
She was scared of how much she loved her.
Like, genuinely terrifying levels of love. The kind where you start planning your future without even realizing it. The kind where you see something random at the store and think, oh she’d love that. The kind where losing them doesn’t feel like heartbreak, it feels like your entire personality getting deleted.
And Megan? She wasn’t built for that kind of vulnerability.
So she did what she always did when things got too real.
She pulled away.
At first it was subtle.
Taking longer to reply. Cancelling plans last minute. Saying “I’m just tired” when Yoonchae asked what was wrong.
Yoonchae noticed, of course. She always noticed.
“Did I do something?” she asked one night, sitting cross-legged on the couch, her voice soft but already a little shaky.
Megan remembered that moment too clearly. The way the lamp light hit Yoonchae’s face. The way her fingers twisted nervously in the hem of Megan’s hoodie.
And Megan, instead of telling the truth, just shrugged.
“No. I’m just… busy.”
Busy.
That was the word that started everything.
Because after that, it became easier to keep lying.
Easier to act distant.
Easier to ignore the way Yoonchae’s smile started fading, little by little.
Until one day, she didn’t smile at all.
The breakup wasn’t even loud.
No screaming. No dramatic exits. No throwing things.
Which somehow made it worse.
They were sitting at the kitchen table. The same table where they used to eat takeout and argue over what show to watch.
Yoonchae looked tired.
Not physically. Like… emotionally drained. Like she had been carrying something heavy for too long.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said.
Megan’s heart dropped, but she still tried to play it cool.
“Do what?”
Yoonchae let out this quiet, almost disbelieving laugh.
“This,” she gestured between them, “whatever this is now.”
Megan didn’t respond.
She should have. She knows she should have. But fear glued her mouth shut.
“I feel like I’m losing you,” Yoonchae continued, her voice breaking just a little. “And you’re just… letting it happen.”
That was the moment.
The exact moment Megan could have fixed everything.
All she had to do was be honest.
Say I’m scared. Say I love you so much it freaks me out. Say please don’t go.
But instead, she looked away.
And silence answered for her.
Yoonchae nodded slowly, like she got the message loud and clear.
“Okay,” she whispered.
And just like that, it was over.
---
Now it was 2:47am.
Megan was sitting on the kitchen floor, back against the cabinet, phone in her hand, staring at Yoonchae’s contact.
Still pinned.
Still marked with a little heart.
She hadn’t had the courage to change it.
Her apartment was a mess.
Empty cups on the counter. A hoodie draped over the chair. Yoonchae’s hoodie.
She hadn’t washed it.
Couldn’t.
It still smelled like her.
And that somehow made everything worse.
Megan dragged a hand down her face, exhaling shakily.
“Get it together,” she muttered to herself.
But her voice cracked, betraying her.
She wasn’t together.
She was falling apart in the most embarrassing, quiet way possible.
No dramatic breakdowns.
Just constant, low-level sadness that refused to leave.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
She shouldn’t.
She knew she shouldn’t.
It had been three weeks. Yoonchae was probably healing. Moving on. Living her life without Megan ruining it again.
Calling her now would be selfish.
So selfish.
Megan swallowed hard.
“Just… one call,” she whispered.
Before she could overthink it, she pressed it.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each ring felt like a countdown to regret.
She almost hung up.
But then—
“Hello?”
Yoonchae’s voice.
Soft. Sleepy. Real.
Megan’s chest tightened so fast it hurt.
For a second, she couldn’t speak.
“Megan?” Yoonchae said again, more awake now. “Are you okay?”
That was all it took.
All the composure Megan had been faking for weeks shattered instantly.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, her voice breaking into a sob she couldn’t stop.
There was a pause on the other end.
Not cold.
Just… surprised.
“Megan,” Yoonchae said gently, “what’s wrong?”
“I miss you,” Megan choked out. “I miss you so much, it’s actually stupid. I thought I could handle it but I can’t, I literally can’t, everything feels so empty and I hate it and I hate myself for messing everything up—”
She had to stop because she couldn’t breathe.
Her chest felt tight, her words coming out messy and uneven.
The silence on the other end stretched just enough to make panic creep in.
“I know I don’t deserve to call you,” Megan rushed out. “I know that, I swear I do, I just— I didn’t know who else to— I just needed to hear you and—”
“Megan.”
Yoonchae’s voice cut through, calm but firm.
“I’m here.”
Two words.
That’s it.
But somehow, they grounded her.
Megan sniffed, trying to steady herself, but tears kept falling.
“I messed everything up,” she whispered. “You were… you were perfect. We were perfect. And I ruined it for no reason.”
“It wasn’t no reason,” Yoonchae said quietly.
Megan shook her head even though she couldn’t see her.
“It was. I just got scared and instead of dealing with it like a normal person, I pushed you away like an idiot.”
Another pause.
This one softer.
Less tense.
“Scared of what?” Yoonchae asked.
Megan let out a shaky laugh.
“You,” she admitted.
That earned a small, confused sound from the other end.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” Megan said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Not like… you specifically. Just… how much I loved you.”
The words hung in the air.
Heavy.
Honest.
“I’ve never felt like that before,” Megan continued, her voice quieter now. “It was like… everything suddenly mattered more. You mattered more. And I kept thinking, what if I lose this? What if I lose you?”
Her grip tightened around her phone.
“And somehow, my brain decided the best way to deal with that was to ruin it myself before it could happen naturally. Which is so dumb, like actually so dumb.”
On the other end, Yoonchae didn’t interrupt.
She just listened.
Like she always did.
“I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was too late,” Megan whispered. “And by then, you were already… tired.”
She swallowed hard.
“I made you feel like you weren’t enough. Like you were losing me. And that’s the worst part, because you were the only thing I was actually sure about.”
Silence again.
But this time, it didn’t feel empty.
It felt… full.
Like something was shifting.
“You really hurt me,” Yoonchae said finally.
Megan closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“I kept trying to understand what changed,” Yoonchae continued. “I thought maybe I did something wrong. Or maybe you just… stopped loving me.”
“I didn’t,” Megan said immediately, her voice urgent. “I never did. Not for a second.”
Yoonchae let out a slow breath.
“I wish you had told me,” she said.
“Me too,” Megan whispered.
Another pause.
Then—
“I miss you too.”
Megan’s heart literally stuttered.
“Wait— what?”
“I miss you,” Yoonchae repeated, a little shy now. “It’s been… really quiet without you.”
Megan let out a broken laugh.
“Yeah. Same. My apartment feels like a haunted house or something.”
That got a small laugh from Yoonchae.
And wow.
Megan didn’t realize how much she missed that sound until now.
“I still have your mug,” Yoonchae said suddenly.
“The ugly one?” Megan asked.
“It’s not ugly,” Yoonchae protested. “It’s cute.”
“It’s literally shaped like a frog.”
“Exactly.”
Megan smiled through her tears.
“Of course you’d like that.”
“Of course I would,” Yoonchae said.
The conversation softened after that.
It wasn’t heavy anymore.
Just… familiar.
Comfortable.
Like slipping into something that still fit perfectly, even after time apart.
“Are you okay?” Yoonchae asked after a while.
Megan hesitated.
Then decided to be honest.
“Not really,” she admitted. “But I think… talking to you helps.”
“Same,” Yoonchae said quietly.
Another pause.
But this one felt warm.
Not awkward.
Just… peaceful.
“Megan?” Yoonchae said.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“If we try again,” Yoonchae said slowly, “are you going to run away the moment it gets scary?”
Megan didn’t answer immediately.
Because this mattered.
A lot.
“I don’t want to promise something I can’t guarantee,” she said finally. “But I can promise I’ll try. And I’ll tell you when I’m scared instead of shutting you out.”
She took a breath.
“I don’t want to lose you again. Not like that.”
Yoonchae was quiet for a second.
Then—
“Okay.”
Just that.
But it felt like everything.
“Okay?” Megan repeated.
“Okay,” Yoonchae said again, a small smile in her voice. “We can… try.”
Megan let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“Wait, really?”
“Really,” Yoonchae said. “But we’re taking it slow. And you’re communicating. Like, actually communicating.”
“Yes. Absolutely. 100 percent. I will over-communicate if I have to.”
Yoonchae laughed.
“Don’t overdo it.”
“No, I’m serious. I’ll send you emotional essays if needed.”
“Please don’t,” Yoonchae said, amused.
“Okay, okay. Moderately emotional texts.”
“That I can handle.”
Megan smiled, her chest finally feeling lighter.
“Can I come see you tomorrow?” she asked, a little hesitant.
There was a brief pause.
Then—
“Yeah,” Yoonchae said softly. “I’d like that.”
“Okay,” Megan said, her voice almost giddy now. “Okay. Cool. I’ll bring food. And… your frog mug.”
“You better.”
“I will.”
Another comfortable silence settled between them.
“Megan?” Yoonchae said again.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you called.”
Megan’s smile softened.
“Me too.”
And for the first time in three weeks, the silence didn’t feel loud anymore.
It felt like peace.
---
Megan did not sleep.
Like, at all.
She tried. She really did. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, staring at the wall, staring at her phone like it might suddenly turn into Yoonchae and solve everything. But her brain was doing that annoying thing where it replayed every second of the phone call on loop.
“I miss you too.”
That line alone should’ve come with a warning label.
Because now Megan was wide awake, heart basically doing backflips in her chest at 4:12am like it was training for the Olympics.
She kept turning onto her side, then her back, then her stomach like a rotisserie chicken of regret and excitement. Every time she closed her eyes, her brain went:
what if she doesn’t actually come tomorrow
what if she changes her mind
what if this is just pity
what if I mess it up again
And then immediately:
she said she missed me
she still has my mug
she’s coming over
It was chaos. Pure chaos.
At 6:03am, Megan gave up completely.
She got up, showered, cleaned the apartment like her life depended on it, then cleaned it again because apparently anxiety makes you think dust is personally insulting you.
By 9:00am, she had rearranged the pillows on the couch four times.
By 9:30am, she was standing in the kitchen eating cereal she didn’t even want just to keep her hands busy.
By 10:02am, she was pacing.
Actual pacing.
“I’m insane,” she told herself out loud. “This is insane. I am a normal person. Normal people do not vibrate in anticipation of their ex showing up.”
Except she was vibrating.
Like physically.
Her phone buzzed at 10:17am.
Yoonchae: I’m on my way.
Megan froze so hard she nearly dropped the spoon she was holding.
Then she read it again.
Then again.
Then she said “OH MY GOD” into the empty kitchen and sprinted to the mirror to fix absolutely nothing about her appearance for the third time that morning.
The next fifteen minutes were torture.
Then came the knock.
Megan didn’t even think.
She just opened the door.
And there she was.
Yoonchae.
Standing there in a soft hoodie, hair slightly messy like she’d rushed a bit, holding a small bag and looking a little nervous but also… soft. Familiar. Real.
That was all it took.
Megan literally did not process anything else.
She just moved.
And hugged her.
Hard.
Like full force, no hesitation, arms locked around her like she was afraid the universe might snatch her away again.
Yoonchae made a small surprised sound, stumbling slightly, then laughed into her shoulder.
“Hi to you too,” she said, voice muffled but warm.
Megan didn’t let go.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted immediately, still hugging her. “I know I’m supposed to be calm and normal but I literally haven’t slept and I missed you so much and you’re here and I—”
“Megan,” Yoonchae interrupted gently.
Megan finally loosened her grip just enough to look at her.
Yoonchae was smiling.
Not the polite kind.
The real one.
Megan’s brain short-circuited.
“Hi,” Megan said weakly.
“Hi,” Yoonchae replied.
There was a beat of silence.
Then both of them started laughing at the same time, like the tension just snapped.
“Okay,” Yoonchae said, stepping inside. “You’re still insane.”
“I prefer emotionally enthusiastic,” Megan corrected immediately, closing the door behind her.
“Sure,” Yoonchae said, amused, taking off her shoes.
Megan just stood there for a second watching her like she might disappear if she blinked too long.
“You’re really here,” Megan said quietly.
Yoonchae looked up.
“I said I would be.”
“Yeah but like… still.”
That got a small smile out of her.
“I’m here,” Yoonchae repeated softly.
Megan nodded quickly like she needed to physically confirm it.
“Okay. Cool. Great. Amazing. I’m normal.”
“You are not normal,” Yoonchae said, walking further into the apartment.
Megan followed immediately like a lost puppy with attachment issues.
“I cleaned,” Megan said quickly. “Like aggressively. So if anything is slightly out of place it’s because I panicked.”
“I can tell,” Yoonchae said, glancing around.
The apartment was… very obviously over-cleaned. Like the kind of clean that screams I was thinking too much alone for too long.
“You didn’t sleep, did you?” Yoonchae asked, looking back at her.
Megan hesitated.
“…No.”
Yoonchae sighed, but it wasn’t annoyed. More like fondly exasperated.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I was excited,” Megan defended.
“Mm-hm.”
Megan followed her into the living room where Yoonchae sat down on the couch like she still knew exactly where she belonged.
That thought alone made Megan’s chest feel weird in a good way.
“So,” Yoonchae said, placing her bag down, “what’s the plan for today?”
Megan blinked.
“Plan?”
“Yeah,” Yoonchae said, leaning back slightly. “We’re not just going to sit here and stare at each other, right?”
Megan immediately said, “I mean I could.”
Yoonchae gave her a look.
“Okay, fine,” Megan corrected herself. “We can do normal human activities.”
“That would be ideal.”
Megan sat down next to her, but not too close at first, like she was still unsure of the rules.
Yoonchae noticed immediately.
“You can sit closer,” she said casually.
Megan moved closer instantly.
Like no hesitation.
“Okay,” Megan said.
Yoonchae shook her head slightly, smiling.
“You’re so dramatic.”
“I prefer passionate.”
“You already used that word.”
“Then consistent.”
Yoonchae laughed again, and Megan felt something in her chest unclench a little.
They started with food.
Obviously.
Megan made something simple because anything complicated would’ve resulted in a kitchen disaster, and Yoonchae immediately took over half the process anyway like she still lived there.
Which she kind of used to.
Which Megan definitely didn’t think about too much while pretending to stir something aggressively.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Yoonchae said.
“What thing?”
“Thinking too loud.”
Megan paused.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Yoonchae just bumped her shoulder lightly.
“Relax.”
Megan tried.
She really did.
But it was hard when Yoonchae was right there again, moving around the kitchen like nothing had changed, like they hadn’t spent weeks apart, like everything could just slide back into place if they let it.
And maybe it could.
After food, they migrated to the couch properly this time.
Yoonchae grabbed a blanket without asking and immediately wrapped it around both of them.
Megan watched her do it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You’re very… domestic,” Megan said.
Yoonchae looked at her.
“I always was.”
“Yeah but like… I forgot.”
Yoonchae didn’t respond to that directly. She just leaned her head lightly against Megan’s shoulder.
That small contact alone made Megan’s entire nervous system reboot.
“You okay?” Yoonchae asked quietly.
Megan nodded too fast.
“Yes. Extremely okay. Peak okay. Never been more okay in my life.”
“That sounds fake.”
“It’s slightly fake,” Megan admitted.
Yoonchae hummed, not pushing further.
They put on a movie.
Something neither of them paid attention to for more than five minutes.
Because halfway through, Megan slowly shifted closer.
Then closer.
Then eventually just leaned fully into Yoonchae like her body had been waiting for permission this entire time.
Yoonchae didn’t say anything.
She just adjusted the blanket and let her.
At some point, Yoonchae’s fingers started absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of Megan’s hoodie.
Megan noticed and immediately stopped breathing normally for a second.
“You’re doing it again,” Yoonchae said softly.
“Doing what?”
“Staring like I’m going to disappear.”
Megan hesitated.
“I’m not staring.”
Yoonchae turned her head slightly.
“You are.”
Megan sighed, defeated.
“I just… don’t want to mess it up again.”
Yoonchae was quiet for a moment.
Then she shifted a little so she was properly facing her.
“You won’t fix everything overnight,” she said. “But you’re here. That’s already different.”
Megan nodded slowly.
“I’m trying,” she said quietly.
“I know,” Yoonchae replied.
Then, after a beat, she added:
“Just don’t disappear on me again.”
That one hit a little deeper.
Megan swallowed.
“I won’t,” she said, firmer this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Yoonchae studied her for a second.
Then nodded like she was accepting that as truth for now.
“Good,” she said softly.
And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she rested her head back on Megan’s shoulder again.
Megan immediately melted.
Like fully.
Movie still playing in the background, blanket warm, Yoonchae close enough that everything finally felt real again.
And for the first time in a long time, Megan didn’t feel like she was holding her breath.
She just sat there.
With her.
And let it be enough.