Shared Spaces & Hidden Desires ? Seungcheol

YN

The air was warm, soft against my skin as we walked side by side down the street. It was our first real date in a while—finals were over, projects turned in, deadlines behind us. Just the two of us.

It's been months since we made it official. Months since Seungjae partially moved in. Months since me and Seungcheol last spoke.

Seungjae looked relaxed for once. His hand brushed against mine before he laced our fingers together, smiling like this—us—was the easiest thing in the world.

"You know," he said, glancing over, "I forgot how pretty you are after all this mess of deadlines."

I let out a quiet laugh, one that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Wow. Thanks. So flattering."

He grinned, bumping my shoulder. "I mean it. I've missed this. Missed you."

I didn't respond right away.

Instead, I looked at the little coffee shop up ahead, the one he always said we should come back to but never had the time for until now. "You still want that cinnamon latte you kept dreaming about last week?"

"Only if you promise to try that weird espresso thing again," he teased.

I rolled my eyes. "It tasted like a mistake."

He laughed, that loud kind of laugh that used to make my chest warm. Used to.

We stepped inside, placed our orders, and sat by the window. The sunlight made everything feel almost perfect. Like I should be happy. Like I should be present.

But there was a familiar hum beneath it all. A constant, low ache I'd learned to ignore over time. To bury. I'd buried him—Seungcheol—in a place I swore not to revisit.

And yet, he was still there.

Every time Seungjae reached for my hand, every time he leaned in close, every time he looked at me like I was someone worth loving, I felt it. The hollowness. The knowing.

That I was just pretending.

"I think my mom's finally warming up to the idea of us," Seungjae said, stirring his drink absentmindedly. "She asked about you the other day."

"Yeah?" I sipped mine. "What'd she say?"

"That she thinks I like you more than you like me," he said with a smirk.

I smiled because that's what I was supposed to do. "She might be right."

He laughed, but I saw the hesitation behind it. The way his eyes searched mine, like he was trying to read between the cracks I didn't bother hiding anymore.

He deserved better than this.

But I didn't care enough to fix it.

Not anymore.

I'd stopped trying to love him a while ago. Somewhere between late-night phone calls I didn't answer and kisses that didn't linger. I wasn't cruel, just... distant. Strategic. I gave just enough to keep him close. Just enough to make it seem real.

Because if he left, I'd be alone. And if Seungcheol ever turned around and told me he wants me—I knew I'd go. No questions asked. No hesitation.

I hated that truth. But it was mine.

Seungjae reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His smile softened. "You're thinking too much again."

"Am I?" I tilted my head, playing along.

He nodded. "Yeah. You get that faraway look. Makes me feel like you're somewhere else."

I met his gaze. "Maybe I am."