blind spot ? skz 9th member

The apartment was quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that felt peaceful — no. This one pulsed. Like a heartbeat trapped under the floorboards. The kind of quiet that knew what was coming and didn't have the heart to stop it.

Ivy stood by the window, arms folded across her chest as she stared out at the city lights. Seoul shimmered in the distance. She hated how beautiful it looked — like it didn't know it was breaking her.

Felix sat behind her on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, brow furrowed. He could feel something was off. Ivy wasn't the same. She was still gentle, still sweet, still Ivy — but something in her had dimmed. There were longer silences. Hesitations before kisses. A distractedness in her touch.

Now she turned around slowly.

Her eyes met his.

"Lixie," she said quietly, and her voice cracked like thin glass. She cleared her throat, hiding it with a soft smile. "I think... I think we should stop."

Felix blinked.

"What?"

"This." She gestured gently between them. "Us. It's not working."

His breath caught. "What do you mean it's not working? We're fine—"

"We're not," she said softly, stepping toward him. "I just think... it's better this way."

Better this way.

He stared at her.

She was smiling. Not a bright, goofy Ivy smile. Not the one she gave when she'd sneak into his bed or steal fries off his plate. It was a soft, almost tender kind of smile. Like she was comforting him in advance for something she was about to destroy.

"Did I do something?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"No."

"Is it someone else?" His voice cracked.

She didn't answer fast enough.

She looked down and nodded.

 "Soobin." 

Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to stay steady.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I really am. I care about you so much."

"Just not enough to stay?" he asked.

She didn't reply. Couldn't.

Because if she said yes, it would be a lie.
If she said no, it would unravel everything.

Felix stood up slowly. His freckles seemed deeper tonight, like even his skin was frowning. He didn't fight her. Didn't argue. Because Felix Lee never held on to someone who didn't want to stay.

But she did want to stay.

God, she wanted to stay.

He stepped toward her. Paused. Then reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear like he always did.

"You're still my Ivy," he said, his voice breaking. "Even if you're not mine anymore."

Then he turned and walked out.

And Ivy stayed rooted in place, smiling gently at the door even after it closed.

She didn't cry until the sound of his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

────୨ৎ────

The sky over Hannam-dong was overcast — that soft, muted grey that made everything feel quieter than it really was. Ivy stood on the corner of the quiet side street, her oversized beige coat tucked tightly around her. Her hair was loosely tied, strands escaping to frame her face in a way that screamed effortless.