Seohyun leaned against the hotel’s rooftop railing, nursing the canned cocktail her unnies had insisted on buying upon landing in Los Angeles. The tart liquid tasted more like lemonade than like alcohol. Her taste buds came alive with every sip, refreshed and invigorated. She closed her eyes, savouring her drink as the sunset kissed her upturned face. The pink and mauve tints seemed burned into her retinas beneath her eyelids.

“Can’t sleep?”

With a gasp she whirled, clasping her can lest it crash down, and clutched her pounding chest with her other hand before lifting her eyes to meet her intruder’s.

“Hi,” Yonghwa said simply, cautiously.

Robbed of her voice, she couldn’t help but stare. Could do nothing else, her heart racing in .

He seemed locked in motion, too, judging by the way he held the door handle, as though he weren’t quite sure of his reception… whether he should leave. He sighed, rubbing his face, and then seemed to come to a decision. “Listen, I didn’t think there’d be anyone up here. I should head back to my room.”

Seohyun watched him politely nod his head and then pull the door open to pass through. “Wait,” she uttered suddenly, not even sure her voice had carried.

He froze. A beat passed before he looked back, his brows mottled in confusion.

“Hi,” she offered awkwardly, swallowing around the lump in . “It’s been a while.”

Frowning more deeply, he let the door close once more. “No,” he replied. “It hasn’t. I just saw you this afternoon at the concert,” he pointed out carefully.

It was true. They’d been part of the 2015 MNet KCon in Los Angeles and would be heading back home in two days. Which was why she was out here right now, figuring she might as well exhaust herself so she could sleep well on the long flight back. “You know what I mean,” she sighed.

He nodded at her forgotten can. “I thought you didn’t like beer?”

It was said with no animosity, but she bristled all the same. “It’s Palm Bay,” she shot back, unclasping her hand to show the vibrant tropical colours on the label.

“Ah.”

Silence descended.

“It has been a while, though,” she insisted, pulling back her can to swirl its contents thoughtfully. “Talking to you.”

She looked up to see Yonghwa shove his hands into his slacks, leaning back against the door as though that small area were the only available space. The only safe space.

Distance. So much distance.

“Yeah.”

Seohyun cleared , the sound like an echoed shotgun in her head amidst the pregnant pause. “How have you been?”

He glanced up, lightning-quick. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Just… don’t.” One hand escaped his pocket, dragging across his face. “Don’t make small talk and pretend you care.”

Blinking, she shook her head. “I’m not.”

With something akin to a glare, Yonghwa pushed away to stalk towards her, holding her gaze. Planting himself in front of her, his eyes darted between hers, seeming to search them. “We’re too different, remember?”

From here, Seohyun could see his damp hair and dewy skin, indicating he’d recently showered, like her. Dark whiskers on his chin and upper lip told her he hadn’t shaved, and with a pang, she remembered that he shaved in the mornings so his face looked fresher, longer.

“We are,” she admitted softly, then notched up her chin to add,” but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Crossing his arms, he raised a brow to signify his doubt. “Enlighten me.”

The inquisition felt… too much. His eyes felt as though they could pierce through her. His body felt like it trapped her, though he wasn’t touching her. He was so far but felt… too close. Seohyun cut her eyes away to a spot just by his ear, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. The hurt and confusion in it.

Sipping her Palm Bay to bring a semblance of poise to herself, the tart liquid felt leaden in her stomach. “You’re a talented fellow artist,” she began. “Of course I -”

“Cut the crap,” he growled suddenly.

Shocked by his flare of anger, Seohyun’s gaze bounced back to his. “Excuse me?”

He uncrossed his arms, plunging one hand into his hair in frustration. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. What you said then. And it doesn’t make any sense.”

Trapped by the wildness in his eyes, Seohyun knew she needed to escape. “I should go,” she mumbled. “Before someone finds us up here.” Moving, she extricated herself from the nonexistent vice around her and began sliding away from his probing eyes.

Only to find his fingers finding purchase around her wrist, halting her progress. “What changed?” he demanded softly, though no less insistently. “We’ve always been different. From the very beginning,” he pointed out. “So I call bull on that excuse.”

“It’s…” Seohyun bit her lip. “It became too much,” she breathed, glancing up at him anxiously.

She needed to go. Now.

But she’d given him too much. Frowning his confusion, he blinked. “What did?”

Unbidden, emotion surged up , and she cut her gaze away once more to blink back the heat burning in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she retorted, extricating her arm from his now loose grip.

Except he belatedly realized her intent, and now lunged bodily to block her exit, hands outstretched in a peaceful gesture. “No, it does,” he insisted. “I have no idea what happened. What I did. Or didn’t do. Just your tex