Minsu’s eyes were earnest as he stared down into Chanhee’s own. He was still standing before the door, blocking Chanhee from leaving.

“What are you so afraid of?” Minsu asked, voice plaintive and pleading. 

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Chanhee said. “I don’t love you.”

Fresh hurt sliced at him. Each lie now feeling like a knife-wound in his heart as he spoke them. The pain of it snapped his two parts back together.

“Don’t lie to me.” Minsu’s brow pulled into sadness. “I can always tell when you’re lying.”

Face twisting like deformed plastic, Chanhee gave a fake smile. He forced it into his eyes and tilted his head a little. Minsu had no idea how many lies he had believed over the last decade.