A few days before Christmas, everything cracked.
It was supposed to be a simple conversation—just dinner plans I couldn't make, something about schedules clashing—but Hyuck's expression shifted, sharp and unreadable. He thought I was avoiding him. I thought he was being too sensitive. Words escalated. I said something I shouldn't have. So did he.
Neither of us said sorry.
And just like that, silence grew between us. Heavy. Awkward. Cold.
Weeks passed. We were in the same group, but different units, running on separate tracks, like strangers who used to be everything. We texted... then stopped. We passed each other in the hall, barely met eyes. I hated it. I hated how empty everything felt without him, but I didn't know how to be the first to reach out. I kept telling myself he should apologize too. That he knew I didn't mean it like that.
God, I was so stupid.
Then the whole group was finally together again—for a night of games and food and dumb jokes in the dorm. I told myself maybe this was my chance to make it normal again. But I didn't know how to begin with him after the distance I'd let fester.
So I played it safe. I stayed loud. Stayed with Yuta, who could always read a room. He kept pulling me into games and dumb pranks. And I let him. I let myself laugh because it was easier than looking in Hyuck's direction and seeing the way he wasn't laughing.
Still, I noticed him.
Sitting curled up on the floor, watching everything quietly. Watching me. I could feel his eyes even when I wasn't looking at him. And something about the way he looked broke me a little. Like he was there, but not really part of it.
I should've gone to him.
But then Yuta jumped on me during a dumb game, and we both fell onto the couch laughing, tangled in limbs, and everything moved fast—and I didn't even realize what it might have looked like.
When I sat up again, Donghyuck was gone.
At first I thought maybe he went to the bathroom, or to get air. But when ten minutes passed, then fifteen, and no one had seen him leave, something in my chest snapped.
Panic.
I tore out of the room without a word, heart pounding, checking every hallway until I saw the door to the rooftop slightly ajar. Rain was pouring.
I ran through it anyway.
There he was.
Standing in the rain like it didn't even matter, soaked to the bone, arms around himself like that was the only thing keeping him together. And I just stood there for a second, frozen. Because I'd never seen him look so small.
"Donghyuck!" I shouted, stepping out into the rain. "What the hell are you doing up here? You'll get sick!"
He didn't look at me.
"Go back inside," he said, voice flat.
"I'm not leaving without you," I said, stepping closer.
He didn't speak. The rain filled the silence between us, cold and merciless.
Then he said it, soft and sharp:
"Why did you come? To tell me it wasn't what it looked like?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but he didn't stop.
"You let him touch you, Mark," he said, finally turning. His eyes were glassy, filled with something worse than anger—hurt. "You let him. And when it's me—when I try—you push me away. Every time."
The guilt hit like a truck.
He kept going, like everything he'd buried was pouring out with the rain. "I watch you laugh with them like nothing happened. Like you're fine. And I'm sitting there feeling like I'm the only one still bleeding."
I felt like I was going to be sick. "Donghyuck, I didn't know—"
"You didn't want to know," he cut in. "You didn't want to deal with the way I felt. It was easier to ignore me."
I took a shaky step closer. "I thought you were mad. I thought if I gave you space, you'd come to me when you were ready. I didn't realize I was making you feel like this."
"I felt invisible," he whispered. "And worse—replaceable."
That word shattered something inside me.
I reached for him, slowly, like he might disappear. "You're not. You never were. Donghyuck, I was scared. I didn't know how to fix what I broke, so I just... froze. I thought if I gave it time, it'd get better. I didn't know it was killing you."
He looked at me then. Really looked at me.
"I'm not asking you to be perfect," he said, voice trembling. "I just needed to know I still mattered to you."
"You do," I said immediately. "You're the only one who does."
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him in, rain and all, holding him like I should've the moment I saw him disappear from that room.
"I'm sorry," I whispered against his soaked hoodie. "I'm sorry I let my pride get in the way. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I made you feel like you weren't enough—because you're everything to me."
He didn't answer right away. But slowly, his arms slid around me too.
"I love you," I said. "Even when I don't know how to show it right. Even when I mess up. It's always been you."
"...Then stop pushing me away," he whispered.
"I will," I promised. "Never again."
And right there, in the freezing rain, with the whole world behind us, I finally held him the way I should've weeks ago.
This time, I didn't let go.
(How was it??!!)
