The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, painting the room in a dull, pale glow. I woke up, stiff and annoyed, determined to ignore Woo-jin no matter what. No smiles, no teasing, no reaction. I told myself firmly. Today, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
I walked into the kitchen and found him there, shuffling quietly as if he knew my mood and was trying to tiptoe around it.
"Um… Dae-hyun?" His voice was soft, hesitant, like he was afraid to disturb me. "Do you… want coffee?"
I raised a brow, leaning against the counter. "Stop asking stupid questions."
He flinched slightly but didn't retreat. Instead, he carefully set a mug in front of me, hands trembling ever so slightly. "I… thought you might want it warm… if… you wanted it."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Pathetic. He was trying so hard, and it made me feel… something I wasn't ready to admit. I ignored the cup and checked the fridge.
"I… I can make toast, too," he murmured, hesitating mid-step. "If… you want it?"
I turned, my patience thinning. "You're not my problem."
His lips pressed together, but he didn't move away. Instead, he hovered, careful not to bump into me. His eyes, blue and pleading, flicked toward mine. "I… I just… thought you might like it…"
I scoffed. "I don't need your pity. Stop acting like a lovesick puppy."
He flinched, and for a moment, I felt something twist painfully in my chest. I ignored it, turning back to the counter, stirring the coffee I hadn't even wanted.
Minutes passed in tense silence. He moved carefully around the room, quiet, tentative, almost like a shadow. Then he tried again:
"Uhh..… it's raining outside. Maybe… you should take an umbrella?" His voice was soft, cautious.
I gave a sharp laugh. "Thanks for the weather update. Don't you have better things to do?"
He bit his lip, hesitating, then whispered, "I… just thought you might get wet."
I muttered, "Pathetic," hiding the way my chest tightened as I watched him shrink back, shoulders hunched.
He didn't give up, though. He lingered nearby, quietly tidying the counter, arranging mugs with delicate precision. Every movement screamed restraint, care, and hesitation — and it drove me mad.
"Do you… want me to clear the table?" he asked, hesitating, eyes flicking toward me.
I snorted. "Of course I don't. Why would I need your help?"
He flinched and stepped back a little, shaking his head. "I… I thought maybe…" His voice faded. "…I could help."
I whirled around, my voice sharper than intended. "Stop looking at me like that!"
He froze, lips trembling, but didn't argue. He simply lowered his gaze, retreating a few steps, and whispered, "Okay…"
I turned away, pretending not to notice the tiny quiver in his shoulders.
Hours passed in this quiet torment. Each time he spoke, hesitated, or offered help, I shot him down. Every attempt was met with sarcasm, coldness, or outright dismissal.
"Dae… do you want me to water the plants?" he asked hesitantly, standing near the window.
"No," I replied sharply. "They don't need your pathetic attention."
He lowered his eyes, lips pressed together. "…Okay," he murmured, almost a whisper. "…I just… thought I could…"
"Stop thinking," I said coldly, hiding the fact that every hesitant word made my chest tighten.
The room fell silent again. I sat in the armchair, pretending to stare out the window, but every small movement he made — the way he fidgeted with his hands, the slight tremble when he tried to hide his expression — pierced me.
I hated myself for noticing. I hated the way my stomach twisted when I saw him flinch at my words. I hated the way I felt… anything at all.
By the time afternoon light spilled across the floor, Woo-jin had settled on a chair across the room, quietly watching me. He didn't speak. He just looked small and fragile, and it made me want to reach for him — something I immediately rejected.
"Dae…" he finally murmured, his voice so soft I almost didn't hear it. "Do you… really hate me that much?"
I swallowed hard, then said, without thinking, "Yes. I hate you more than anything."
He nodded, quiet, a shadow of hurt crossing his features. "I… okay," he whispered, turning his gaze to the floor.
I turned away, pretending I didn't notice his trembling hands or the faint sheen of tears in his eyes. I wanted to feel nothing. I wanted to stay cold.
But the question wouldn't leave me.
Why… does it feel like I've known him far longer than today?
The afternoon sun barely warmed the apartment, but the tension was heavy enough to make it feel suffocating. I was sitting on the armchair, pretending to read some documents, though I wasn't paying attention to a single word. My eyes kept flicking to Woo-jin across the room, hovering quietly, as if he were unsure whether he had permission to exist in my space.
"I… um…" His voice was soft, hesitant, and I groaned inwardly. "I thought… maybe you'd like some water?"
I didn't look up. "I can get it myself. Stop acting like I'm helpless."
He flinched at my words, but didn't move away. Instead, he shifted slightly, almost shyly, and held the bottle out. "I… I just thought… you might be thirsty."
"Pathetic," I muttered, barely audible. My chest ached slightly, but I forced myself to ignore it.
He pursed his lips, fiddling with the cap nervously, then whispered, "I… I can leave if… if I'm bothering you."
I finally looked up, my green eyes cold. "Good idea."
He froze, a hurt flickering in his bright blue eyes, and for a second I felt a pang of something I didn't want to name. Quickly, I turned my gaze back to the documents in front of me, forcing my chest to stop tightening.
Minutes later, I heard him shuffle closer, softer than the quiet hum of the refrigerator. "I… I noticed your blanket's on the floor," he murmured. "I can… fold it for you?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "Why do you care so much about stupid things?"
His hands froze mid-air. "I… I just… thought it might… be nice…" His voice trailed, hesitant, unsure if I'd even respond.
I stood up abruptly, irritation flaring. "Stop hovering! Go bother someone else!"
He flinched, taking a step back, but his eyes stayed on mine. "I… I'm not bothering anyone. I just… want to help."
I wanted to roll my eyes, to yell, to ignore him, but something in the way he said it — quiet, trembling, careful — made my chest tighten in a way that scared me. "Fine. Do what you want. Just… stop looking at me like that."
He lowered his gaze, shoulders slumping, but didn't argue. "Okay…" His whisper was almost lost under the hum of the city outside.
He tried again a few minutes later. "…I-I thought maybe you'd like some tea," he murmured, placing a cup carefully on the table. His hands shook slightly as he set it down, and he glanced up to see my reaction.
I raised a brow. "And you think I'll actually drink it?"
He swallowed nervously. "…Maybe…"
"Pathetic," I muttered under my breath, but my gaze lingered longer than I wanted. He flinched as if he'd heard me, and I quickly looked away.
Hours passed in a blur of hesitant attempts and cold rejections. Each time he spoke, it was soft, careful, and weighed down by fear of upsetting me. Each time I snapped, I hated myself a little more for feeling… something.
Finally, he spoke, almost too quietly to hear:
"I… I just… I don't want to lose you, even if you hate me."
I froze mid-motion, my chest tightening violently. "I'm not yours," I spat. "I don't need you. And I don't want you."
His lips trembled, and I could see the tears threatening to spill in his clear blue eyes. "…Even if you don't want me," he whispered, "…I'm still here."
I looked away, forcing my jaw to unclench. My own voice trembled, but I said, "Then stay… just don't expect me to care."
He nodded, a small quiver in his shoulders, and quietly moved to a corner of the room. He didn't speak again, but I noticed every small movement — the way he shifted, how his hands fidgeted, how his breathing caught every now and then.
I wanted to deny it, to push it away, but the feeling stayed. I hated him. I hated that I cared. I hated that I noticed him at all.
By evening, the apartment had grown darker, the golden sunlight slipping away, leaving a dim, cold light. He was sitting quietly across the room, fiddling with his hands. Hesitant, careful, and yet painfully human.
Finally, he spoke, voice barely audible:
"Funny… you said… you'd never stop loving me."
I froze, heart pounding, throat tight. The same thing he had said before. Every nerve screamed at me, and yet I forced my shoulders to remain stiff, my expression hard. He wasn't looking at me, but I could see the subtle tremble in his frame. He had been holding back all day — holding back words, holding back tears, holding back hope — and now it landed like a stone in my chest.
I wanted to run, to hide, to scream, to deny it all. But the truth burned hotter than any anger.
I turned abruptly, forcing myself to leave the room before he could see the crack in my composure.
Outside, I breathed in sharply, gripping my fists. I couldn't admit it. Not now. Not ever.
And yet… the words lingered in my mind, haunting every step I took.
"Funny… you said you'd never stop loving me."
Later. Woo-jin came to me. "Dae…" His voice was soft, hesitant, like he didn't want to disturb me but couldn't help himself. "…Can we talk?"
I didn't look up. "About what?"
He swallowed, hands fidgeting nervously. "Anything… I just… I want to talk. Please?"
I let out a short laugh, bitter and cold. "Talk? About what? How pathetic you look right now, standing there like a lovesick idiot?"
He flinched, shoulders drooping, but didn't step back. "…Maybe…" His voice trembled slightly. "…I just… want to be honest. I… I care about you. More than I probably should…"
I felt a sharp sting in my chest but forced myself to remain unmoved. "You care about me? Why? We barely know each other. And I don't want your 'care.'"
His eyes, a brilliant shade of blue even in the dim light, shimmered with unshed tears. "…Because I've always… always felt something for you, even if you don't remember."
I froze, heart skipping. My throat went dry, and I wanted to say something — anything — but my pride and confusion held me back. "I don't… I don't know what you're talking about."
He stepped closer, voice soft but desperate. "I do. I know you… better than you think. And I know I've hurt you, and I know you hate me, but…" He stopped, swallowing hard. "…I can't leave. I can't not be here."
I clenched my fists, anger and something else twisting inside me. "You… you're pathetic. You're always pathetic."
He flinched, trembling slightly, but he didn't move away. Instead, he looked at me with raw vulnerability, lips trembling. "And yet… you haven't walked away, Dae-hyun. You… you stayed."
I couldn't meet his gaze. "…I'm staying because I… I don't know."
He stepped even closer, voice cracking now. "…Because I begged you not to leave. I'll do anything you want. I'll change. I'll—"
I interrupted sharply. "Stop. Just stop."
Tears glimmered in his blue eyes. "…Even if you hate me, even if you push me away, I… I'll still be here. I can't… I can't just disappear from your life."
I swallowed hard, chest tightening, words failing me. His presence was too much, too near, too real. The vulnerability in his voice, the tremble in his body, it… shook something inside me I wasn't ready to admit.
He whispered, softer now, almost broken: " I don't understand. You used to be so sweet to me. We even planned on having kids."
I froze, fingers clenching around the edge of the armchair. The words echoed in my mind, twisting and piercing. How could he say that so easily? And yet, why did it feel like the entire room was holding its breath with me?
I wanted to turn, to shout, to push him away, to deny every feeling. But every instinct screamed that I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop noticing the little things — the way he trembled, the soft quiver in his voice, the way his eyes pleaded without words.
I didn't answer. I didn't move. I just stared, chest tight, mind spinning, heart pounding in a way I couldn't control.
And there he was, standing vulnerable, trembling in front of me, blue eyes shining with tears unshed, waiting. Waiting for something I wasn't ready to give, and yet… somehow, unable to completely push away.
The city outside continued its quiet hum, indifferent to the chaos of emotions inside. And I realized, with a pang that was equal parts fear and longing.
"Just shut up with your omega delusions."
"But it's true."
"Get out."
And Woo-jin sprinted out of the room.
It didn't feel like he was lying to me.