The restaurant was too warm.
The laughter bounced off the walls—Na-yeon's shrill cackle, Ji-hyun's exasperated sighs, Soo-min's smug drawl, Eun-ji's stammered protests. Chopsticks clattered against plates, the grill hissed, soda fizzed. Everything was alive, noisy, vibrant.
And yet, none of it reached me.
Not really.
Because all I could feel was him.
Minjae.
His lips.
That kiss.
I could still taste it—nervous, uncertain, clumsy in its eagerness. It hadn't been mine to want, mine to accept, mine to keep. It was just a dare, shouted across the table by Soo-min, cheered on by Na-yeon's endless energy. A silly game. A cruel one, maybe.
But once Minjae leaned in, once his breath ghosted against my skin, once his trembling mouth pressed against mine—I couldn't move.
I should have pulled away. I should have shoved him back, laughed it off, mocked him for falling into their trap. That's what everyone would've expected from me. The cold one. The untouchable one.
But I didn't.
But why?
I stayed still. Frozen. Letting him kiss me.
His lips were soft. Too soft. His breath came quick, uneven, and I felt every shaky exhale against my cheek, like the warmth was crawling under my skin and carving itself into my chest. He pressed closer, just slightly, testing, almost pleading for me to respond. And I didn't.
I couldn't.
All I gave him was stillness.
The forty-five seconds Soo-min had demanded stretched into longer. Maybe a minute. Maybe more. Time stopped meaning anything. The world outside that fragile press of lips didn't exist. It was just him, and me, and silence.
And when it ended—when Minjae finally pulled back, his face flushed, eyes darting nervously toward mine—I still couldn't breathe right.
Now, the table roared with laughter again, Na-yeon dramatizing what she'd just witnessed, Eun-ji still hiding her face, Soo-min smirking like the devil herself. Ji-hyun muttered something about "children" and "chaos," but his ears were pink.
I sat there, chopsticks limp in my hand, unable to taste the last pieces of pork belly or the sweetness of soda.
All I could taste was him.
---
When we finally left, the night air was a relief, cool against my overheated skin. Neon lights spilled color across the street—pink, blue, green. The smell of grilled meat lingered on our clothes, mixed with cigarette smoke from a group of men laughing across the road.
Na-yeon led the group toward the bus stop, still shouting about dessert. Ji-hyun followed like her reluctant bodyguard. Soo-min and Eun-ji walked close, their hands brushing, pretending not to notice.
And then there was Minjae.
Behind me. Close enough that when the sidewalk narrowed, his shoulder brushed mine. He didn't pull away. Neither did I.
My pulse was louder than their chatter.
"Did you… have fun?"
His voice was quiet, careful. I turned my head slightly, catching the way his lips curved in something shy, nervous. His eyes flicked up to meet mine before dropping again.
"…It was fine," I said. My voice came out flatter than I intended. Too flat.
"Oh." He nodded, biting at his lip. The silence stretched between us, filled with Na-yeon's complaints and Soo-min's laughter.
I wanted to say something else. Anything. The truth, maybe—that my lips were still burning, that I hadn't felt this unsettled in years, that the thought of him wouldn't leave me alone. But silence was safer.
It always had been.
---
The bus ride blurred. The noise of our classmates washed over me, but none of it stuck. Minjae sat near the window, and I sat beside the him. I told myself not to look, but I did anyway.
He was staring outside, his reflection faint in the glass. His hand brushed against his mouth absentmindedly, like he was checking if the kiss was still there.
And every time he did it, my stomach twisted.
By the time we split ways at the stop, Na-yeon and Ji-hyun veered off first, still bickering. Soo-min and Eun-ji lingered together, their laughter fading down a side street.
Which left me with him.
Just him.
Our footsteps echoed in the quiet, too loud against the empty stretch of road. Shops were closed, shutters pulled down, only dim lamps lighting our path.
Our shoulders brushed again. This time it lingered. Neither of us pulled away.
"About earlier…" His voice broke the silence.
I turned my head slightly. He was looking at me, hesitant, lips parted like the words were caught on the edge of his tongue.
"…Never mind," he muttered, shaking his head.
He didn't know it, but I heard his heartbeat in the silence. Felt it in the way his voice cracked.
I wanted him to finish. I wanted to know what he meant. I wanted—God, I wanted too much.
But I said nothing.
Because silence was safer.
---
When we reached my house, I stopped at the gate. My parents' car wasn't in the driveway, as usual. No lights on. Just darkness waiting inside.
"Good night," I said, simple, even.
"Good night," he echoed, softer.
He lingered for a second, his eyes on the door as I unlocked it. I didn't look back once I stepped inside. But I felt him standing there. Waiting. Hoping.
I wanted to turn around. I didn't.
---
My room was cold, quiet, and far too empty.
I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence pressing against my ears. For a long time, I didn't move. Then, slowly, I raised my hand to my lips.
They still tingled.
I hated it. I hated how easily he'd gotten under my skin. I hated that his warmth had slipped past the walls I'd built, filling cracks I thought I'd sealed years ago.
But most of all… I hated how badly I wanted him to do it again.
How badly I wanted him to kiss me—not because of a dare, not because of their laughter, but because he wanted to. Because I wanted to.
And that terrified me.
Because silence had always been safer. But now, silence felt unbearable.
And Minjae… he was the noise I couldn't shut out.
---