It wasn’t that he didn’t try to accept the fact she wasn’t listening. He wanted to shrug and turn away. He wanted to give up as easily as she could give up on caring. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t bring himself to shrug nor turn away.

He simply stared at her. It was almost longing, yet half pleading for her to accept his words.

“I need help, Bom-ah.”

The look she gave him was withering, yet he didn’t falter. His gaze was desperate enough to make her question herself, if just for a moment. Folding her dainty hand in her lap, she gave him a long look, “How can I trust you, Ji? You’re breaking the trust of everyone around you... I’ve heard things.”

A sound escaped him, half of frustration as he hit the coffee table in front of him before he rest his forehead on the table, fingers pulling at tufts of his bleached hair that looked too yellow in the light of the coffee shop.

“You don’t understand... You don’t understand! I’m dying Bom!” He didn’t lift his head, but the tremor through his shoulders told Bom that he believed his words enough to be frightened by it.

“Jiyong-ah. You’re not letting anybody in. You ignore people unless you want them there. What do you expect from us?” Her tone tried for soft, but Jiyong stood in a way that nearly knocked the coffee table over in front of them, “Just.. Forget I asked. I’ll leave. As if asking for help didn’t hurt my pride enough.” The unshed tears in his eyes went unnoticed as he turned away and stormed out of the coffee shop.