“I’ve told her,” Kyungsoo winced on his seat. He was still recovering from the fever, and possibly from guilt, but he needed to prove to Jongin that he wasn’t going to dwell on cowardice any longer.

He needed to prove to Hyemi that what he did was already “braver”.

“You’re unfair, hyung,” the younger sighed. “Even when you’ve given her so much pain, now you’re giving her more, and… and in the end,” his heart dropped, “she still… chose you.” The sting Hyemi’s call brought on his feelings the night he’d planned to enumerate his “reasons” underneath the snowfall was still deeply embedded in his heart. He’d already realised that he wasn’t going to change anything, because he simply wouldn’t be able to fight love with the urge to merely protect her from unexpected pain.

“But there’s no point now to keep choosing a lying coward, is there?”

“There’s plenty.”

“She hates me, Jongin.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jongin chuckled as if to address the absurdity of Kyungsoo’s statement, “because it’s always been you… and will always be you.”

--

“Let go.”

My insides were unstable, and it wasn’t pleasant. Even I couldn’t understand myself.

This was the moment. This was what I’d been waiting for. This was my dream’s definite ignition.

And yet I was asking him to “let go of my hands”.

Kyungsoo resorted to furrowed brows, but did as was told. A fazed, puzzled look wiped the smile out of his face. It was imperative that he complied, because I was getting… angry.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Did I-”

“No, just… go,” I shook my head in dismay as I was just beginning to formulate what was wrong with me.

Did he really think it was that easy? That he could just turn up at a convenient time and expect things to mend so quickly?

I don’t know.

And I needed to sort it out.

So I hastily wiped my hands on a teatowel and scrammed out of the house through the back door. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweating yet again; everything was so overwhelming. I’d been waiting for a long time – too long – and now that the wait was over, I’d lost all ability to cope with the sweetest reality. I’d said to myself that I was in way too deep to bring myself back up to the surface, but now that Kyungsoo was finally reaching out to my rescue, I wanted him to drown with me.

The feeling was too complex for words.

“Yah, where are you going?” Kyungsoo yelled, running after me. So I tried to sprint, but the nipping temperature was a hindrance. I stopped on my tracks and panted as my fingers gradually turned numb. As expected, he caught up, grabbed my wrist and turned my body so I faced him.

“It’s raining,” he said sternly, “do you want to get sick?”

“I… can’t… I don’t know… what to say to you… right… now… I-”

“You’re going to Jongin, aren’t you?”

He loosened his grip around my wrist, letting blood circulate through again. But upon letting go, his eyes fell sullen, his eyebrows creased, his expression dwindled, and he looked almost… hurt.

Then, ing his woollen cardigan, he took it off and stably wrapped it around my shoulders. The warmth quickly spread over me, and I could smell Kyungsoo all over, gifting my senses a nauseating experience.

“Stay warm,” he whispered, “and get home safely.”

With a lethargic nod, he turned his back towards me, and walked away.

--

I calmly knocked on the door and waited for a response. After a few seconds, I heard and felt slippers shuffle towards the entrance. The doorknob clicked, and slowly unbolted.

“H-hyemi?”

“Hi,” I croaked and managed to give a small wave to Jongin. I was relieved to know he was home, because I knew he would be able to get me to say things aloud. “Can I-”

“Y-yeah, sure come in,” he offered and ran his fingers through his already ruffled hair. I had startled him, but I needed to talk to someone who was not, well… Kyungsoo.

Their home was enormous and new. Colour-coordinated furniture and walls, glamorous chandeliers, random canvas paintings, glistening kitchen tiles – it was quite intimidating, but Jongin half-smiled at me and told me to sit down on their beige futon.

He reached out to their wooden centre table, pulled out a small drawer underneath and handed me a hand warmer. I bluntly took it and suddenly felt quite out of place. I’d wanted to go to him so I could feel the tranquillity I’d felt during our bus rides, but now that I was in his house, I started to doubt it was a good idea. So without giving anything any thought, I ventured into the first thing that was bothering my mind.

“Can you give me a reason now?”

“What?”

“You said… you’d give me a reason not to wait.”

Jongin looked puzzled for a short moment, but I knew he realised straightaway because he blushed a little and gaped at me.

“Hyemi, look I-”

“What? Are you going to tell me I looked like someone else, too?”

“No, Hyemi-”

“Just tell me a reason, because the wait is over, but now I’m-”

“Hyemi, stop!” he raised his voice, astounding me.

“What? You said you’d give me a reason not to wait anymore-”

“I said I might give you a reason not to wait for him anymore, not give you a reason not to wait for yourself any longer.”

Wait for… myself?

It was my turn to look puzzled.

“Look, Hyemi,” he sighed and looked at my eyes, “you’re scared, because he’s told you, and now you know the truth.”

I held Jongin’s stare long and hard, in need of more explanations. I wanted to ask him how he knew and how much he knew, but to ask myself was more important.

Was I scared?

And I found myself holding back tears, not daring to argue any further, because… yes.

I was.