Without saying a word, Sehun deposited his things on the counter, knelt before his deeply troubled girlfriend, and encased her hands within his. Seeing her like this, crestfallen and broken, perhaps over something she was having a hard time telling him—seeing her like this made him realize how trivial his own problem was.   “Aya.”   At the sound of his voice, Aya gasped once, followed by a sob she clearly didn’t want to escape her lips. She swallowed twice, trying to keep her emotions at bay.   Tonight seemed to be a night of firsts for Sehun, for it was also the first time that he could grasp the depth of Aya’s endurance just to keep their friendship intact. She was suffering deep inside—he could understand that clearly enough. But that she was also trying to keep it from surfacing was already too much to just spectate at. He felt disgusted at himself for offering her nothing but silent company all these years. Ah, and all those despicable moments when he prioritized his desolation over Aya’s frustrations—at his behavior, her studies, her parents, her subdued passion, at life in general.   “Aya—“   “Just,” she swallowed a lump down , refusing to look at him. “Give me a moment, all right?”   It was too late for Sehun to start panicking now. He had never deserved her patience and understanding from the beginning. He had seen her in this state countless times before, and he had done nothing. He had begged her to let him love her but he had only been pathetic and useless. It was a miracle that Aya wasn’t lashing out on him at the moment. She was too kind in the midst of her suffering. And there he was, worrying over a stupid kiss which she probably never even agreed to in the first place but which she couldn’t even tell him in fear of having to suffer his wrath.   Sehun scoffed, leaning away from Aya and sinking to the floor, his hands covering his face. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He wanted to escape. He wanted to hug her. And kiss her. And beg her to stay. He wanted to punch himself. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to just love her. He didn’t know how. Goddammit, I don’t know how.   And now she was probably considering breaking up with him.   “Sehun.”   “Please don’t.” His voice was no more than a whisper. “I can’t bear it.”   “Sehun, what are you—“   He suddenly lifted his face to meet her gaze, his crazed eyes against her muddled ones. Slowly and gently, he reached for her hands again, lacing her fingers with his, bringing them to his lips, pressing them against his forehead.   Aya couldn’t keep up with the boy’s actions, but it pained her to see him like this. And what exactly couldn’t he bear to hear? Did he already know what she wanted to talk about?   “Sehun, please look at me.”   It was a minute before he finally gathered the courage to face her. She was suddenly looking firm and decided. There seemed to be no trace of the pain she was enduring when he first entered the house.   “I need to tell you something,” she said, “and you need to listen to me properly.”   When he attempted to let go, Aya tightened her grip. Holding his gaze, she rose from the couch and settled before him on the floor. She never averted her eyes.   “Sehun—“   “I love you.”   Her jaw dropped, quite literally. Compared to all those other times when Sehun became embarrassed whenever he openly expressed his affections, he was bold and straightforward at the moment.   “I know I have the tiest way of showing you, Aya, but believe me when I say I love you.”   He was convinced of his own words. He was no sunshine, and he was probably the worst comforter she had ever had the misfortune of meeting, but he would offer to be her haven of solace anytime she wanted, in any manner she wanted.   His sudden declaration seemed to have clicked something within his girlfriend. Her cheeks were a beet red, and her grip had begun to quiver. It was Sehun’s turn to squeeze her hands, reaffirming what he had just said.   “I want you to know that from now on, you can tell me anything.” He raised one of his hands to tuck strands of her hair behind her earlobe. “And I will still love you.” He leaned forward to kiss the tiny space between her brows, breathing in her scent. “Remember that.”   They sat gazing at each other in silence, Sehun measuring her reaction, and Aya considering his affections. Two messed up childhood friends. Two broken lovers, each fighting his and her way out of misery. Two intimate strangers, still striving to break down each other’s walls. This was the moment to choose, and they both knew it. Felt it in their bones. The silence dragged, until Aya averted and cleared .   Despite the certainty of his feelings and having made sure to convey them, Sehun’s apprehension was back. Never mind asking her if she shared the mutual feeling, if she loved him just as fiercely. He first had to listen to whatever she wanted to say now.   “I didn’t know how to tell you,” she said, positively squirming. “It’s stupid, really.” She tried to laugh. “It’s about the play, Sehun. I… I mean, if I could change things, if only I had the power to change things, I would. And I… We—“   “Have you done it?” His expression was pained, though he tried to contain it.   “…what?”   He shrugged, looking away. “The kissing scene. I know. I just knew. This afternoon.” He watched her again, hoping he didn’t sound as bitter as he was feeling. “Sorry, I read your script. It wasn’t on purpose.”   “Was that why you were looking for me in the council room?”   “I’m sorry about that, too.”   “No—“   “I know you have so many responsibilities, Aya. And I’m sorry Solenn is dragging you into all this. I panic