It's been three days.
Three days since I've been drowning myself in work, sleeping on the stiff office couch, and pretending my apartment doesn't exist. It's easier this way. Easier to live buried in paperwork than to face those damned blue eyes waiting for me at home.
I throw another file on the desk and stand, my body aching from exhaustion. My assistant gives me a worried look as I leave, but I ignore it.
The summer heat hits me like a wall when I step outside — heavy, scorching. I tug at my collar, already regretting leaving the office… and then I see him.
Woo-jin.
He's sitting on the bench like a lost child, knees drawn up, his once-perfect pink hair a mess, sticking to his sweaty forehead. His shirt is wrinkled and stained like he hasn't bothered to change. His skin is so red from the sun that it makes my chest twist — like someone took sandpaper to porcelain.
My breath catches. For a second, I just stare.
"Woo-jin!" I snap, striding over. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
His head lifts slowly, sluggishly, and those blue eyes meet mine. They look glassy, too bright, like he might cry but doesn't have the strength.
"…Waiting for you." His voice is hoarse, almost a whisper.
I freeze, my chest tightening painfully.
"You've been here all this time?" My voice comes out sharper than I meant.
Woo-jin nods weakly. "Didn't want to… miss you. Though if I stayed… you'd have to talk to me."
My jaw clenches. Anger — or something that feels too much like fear — boils in my gut. "Are you insane? Do you want to die out here?!"
He actually smiles at that — small, faint, miserable. "Maybe."
The word hits harder than I expect.
For a moment, I just stand there, glaring at him — though my hands are already itching to drag him out of the sun. My chest feels too tight, my throat dry. I tell myself I don't care. I tell myself he deserves this for making me feel like this.
But my legs move anyway.
I walked towards him.
I curse under my breath and grab his wrist — too hot. His skin is burning.
"Get up," I bark.
He blinks at me, dazed. "…Can't. My legs feel numb."
Of course they do. He's been sitting here for hours — maybe days — like an idiot.
I grit my teeth, shove my bag onto my shoulder, and crouch. "Fine. Get on."
"What?" His voice is small, confused.
"On my back, idiot. You can't even stand straight. Do you want me to leave you here?"
He hesitates — then slowly, hesitantly, wraps his arms around my shoulders. His weight feels lighter than I expected. That makes me even angrier.
By the time we reach my apartment, I'm sweating and furious. I kick the door shut with my foot and drop him onto the couch.
Woo-jin sits there quietly, dripping water from his hair onto my cushions. He looks up at me with those stupid glassy blue eyes, and I want to scream.
"What were you thinking?" I snap, throwing him a towel. "Waiting in the sun like a stray dog?! What did you expect me to do, throw you a bone?"
He flinches, staring down at the towel in his hands. "…I just wanted you to look at me."
Something twists in my chest, sharp and sudden.
"Look at you?" I repeat bitterly. "Congratulations, Woo-jin. I'm looking at you. Are you happy now?"
He doesn't answer. Just presses the towel against his face, his shoulders shaking slightly.
I should feel satisfied. This is what I wanted — distance, silence, him giving up.
So why do I feel like the bad guy here?
"How long were you out there ?"
"I think 3 days?" He replied unsure.
I lean against the table, arms crossed, glaring at him. "You're unbelievable. Three whole days and you sit there like some tragic movie character waiting for me to magically change my mind."
Woo-jin stays quiet, towel still clutched in his hands.
"Say something," I snapped. "If you're going to act pathetic, at least explain why."
Slowly, he lowers the towel. His cheeks are blotchy from the heat, his lips dry and cracked, but his eyes — they're clear now, painfully so.
"I didn't know being near you would hurt this much," he says softly.
The words hit me like a punch.
I blink at him, caught off guard. "…Then why stay?"
He lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Because it hurts more to stay away."
Silence fills the room.
For a moment, I can't move. Can't breathe. There's something in my chest clawing to get out, but I force it back down.
"You're an idiot," I mutter, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet.
Woo-jin doesn't answer — just watches me with that small, broken smile like he's grateful even for my insults.
"Annoying." I muttered with a smirk.