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Summary
Junghwan's hand doesn’t leave Youngjae’s shoulder, warmth still seeping through so many layers of fabric. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”
Youngjae glares. “What?”
“Seems like you’ve been bottling things up for a long time…” Junghwan mutters. “I don’t know what happened, but… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not too late. If there’s things you never got to say.”
“Idiot,” Youngjae says, the word slipping out with a chuckle before he can really think about it. Luckily, all he hears from Junghwan is a scoff. His hand never leaves his shoulder. After a sniffle, Youngjae says, “Sorry. I just… I promised not to.”
It’s not exactly true. Youngjae can’t promise not to do something that was already impossible to begin with.
