fighting doesn't always mean hate

You said you loved me
But you tried to run away
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 - 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧
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It's the next day. We just finished eating, and now we're waiting to film—but my heart is waiting on me to make a move.

It's awkward. I haven't talked to Dylan since last night, and it feels like I did something wrong.

"All right, all right, are we ready?" someone calls from near the camera.

We all nod, taking our seats.

The filming drags on. It feels like it will never end. Dylan acts as normal as possible, but I notice the way he keeps his distance—more than usual.

When we finally finish, everyone starts packing up to go home. As I'm gathering my things, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I look back. It's Thame.

"Is everything okay Jun?" he asks, concern in his voice.

"I mean... yeah i'm happy. We're all back as a group." I force a smile, trying not to show what's really wrong.

But I guess it doesn't work, because Thame gives me a knowing look. "Jun, I'm not talking about that."

Great. Was it that obvious?

I glance around, making sure no one else is listening.

"I told Dylan how I feel," I mutter, keeping my voice low even though no one is nearby.

A small, proud smile crosses Thame's face. "I'm proud of you." He rubs my shoulder gently, his hand still resting there.

I exhale. "It just seems like he hates me now."

Thame's brows furrow. "What happened? How did he respond?"

I tell him everything—from Dylan sitting next to me last night to us hugging.

"Now we're just... keeping it casual, I guess. But it doesn't feel right."

Thame nods, thinking. "I think you should talk to him. Maybe clear things up."

Then he tilts his head slightly, nodding toward something behind me.

I turn and find Dylan watching us. There's something in his eyes—hurt.

Before I can say anything, he starts walking away.

I don't think. I just follow him.

"Dylan, wait." My voice is firm, urgent. "We really need to talk."

He doesn't stop. So I grab his wrist.

"Hey, seriously? Why are you avoiding me now?"

Dylan turns, his expression unreadable. "I'm not avoiding you," he says, pulling his arm back.

"Then what, Dylan? You haven't talked to me all day." My frustration slips out before I can stop it.

He sighs. "I just... I wanted to think about everything, I guess." He mutters the words, looking down, avoiding my eyes.

I soften. "I understand. But you don't have to pull away." I step closer, lowering my voice.

"It just felt too real," he admits. "Like, I meant what I said. But when you said you felt the same... I got scared."

I swallow, nodding. "I'm not going to force you into anything. But if you're scared, you can tell me."

Dylan finally looks up, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard.

"I need time," he says. "I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I just do."

I take a deep breath. "Okay. That's fine." I give him a small smile.

Dylan hesitates, then smiles back.

"Let's go!" someone calls from behind us.

I watch Dylan for a second longer before we turn back toward the others.

Time. That's all he needs.