Everything was in color when Seungcheol was around Jihoon. It wasn't too bright nor dull. It was in perfect balance.

It was innocence and naivety and maybe recklessness too, that made him believe that he had a chance with Jihoon, that he, too, loved him more than a friend. And indeed, he did. But how long will this happiness last, he wonders one late night. How long will it take before innocence fades and naivety turns to a realization that this thing was not right? That this thing was nothing but a burst of feeling from two teenagers who had no one but themselves to direct their hormonal needs to? He shudders at the thought. He did not want to think about it, and so he lets himself get carried away  to sleep, safe from all the dark thoughts in Jihoon's embrace.

But surprise, surprise, the late night anxieties do not end there. Also, time is a jerk. 

He does not miss the fact that the more moments they spend together, the more they drift apart. How the tight hugs get looser everytime, how the kisses seem to be less magical, and how his hands, when held in his, do not feel as warm as they were before. Maybe it was familiarity. Yes, definitely familiarity, he decides. It is this thing that is taking Jihoon away from him. It is the cause of the colder nights and the shorter conversations that they tried to pass off once as "no words needed", but of course, that was just a poor excuse from the reality that they abandoned words because not even words can save the uncertain mess that is their relationship. 

But still, he tries to talk to him about it, because communication is key, right?

The answer can be found in the way Jihoon avoids his gaze when he tries to open up the topic. It is in the monotony of his voice when he says "I'm busy" and "not now", and in the calls he rejected to which he reasoned that he fell asleep but Seungcheol knows he's lying because his status says otherwise in the online game they used to play together.

He wouldn't admit, but deep down, it made him relieved, and the colors he saw once in perfect balance were now a little too bright. He wouldn't admit, and maybe it was because of the fear that this might all be a mistake and they still loved each other and in the end, they would end up with regrets. But the answers Jihoon gave made it easier for him to realize that his feelings, too, had changed.

All that's left is a closure, so he corners Jihoon in the studio one night. He hated and loved it at the same time, the look of relief on Jihoon's face when he mentioned the break up. But it was all for the better. It hurt how it ended so easily, but it also felt nice. They parted with smiles and also a bit of tears and a kiss that was probably the softest they ever had. And now his world is in black and white again.

But it felt nice. It really did.

Or did it, really?

After a few years, Seungcheol can be seen in his bed, tears staining his pillow as he thinks of how he should have saved their relationship. In his hand was a crumpled invitation to Jihoon's wedding with his bestfriend. All these years he tried to convince himself that he didn't love him anymore because he couldn't bring himself to accept that Jihoon's feelings had changed and he was the only one holding on. And he finds it unfair, how he still saw Jihoon as the guy whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He hates how he is the only one hurting, and how Jihoon only seemed to get more beautiful in his eyes the more he cried. Maybe this was his punishment for not trying to do anything about their growing gap, and perhaps justly so.

Late night anxieties do not end so easily for Seungcheol.