blurred
three — evil young lads I suppose...
⤷ a/n: written part + smau ( wc - 1658 )
The cafeteria is louder than usual today, or maybe you’ve only started noticing how loud everything is now that your brain no longer knows how to filter what matters and what doesn’t. Chairs scrape against the floor in sharp bursts, trays slam onto tables, and somewhere near the vending machine, someone is arguing over stolen fries with the kind of passion that makes you wonder if this is what normal school life is supposed to feel like.
You stand near the entrance for a few seconds longer than necessary, one hand wrapped around the strap of your bag as your eyes slowly move across the crowded tables, searching for a face you technically know but don’t actually recognize.
Choi Yeonjun. Your boyfriend. Allegedly.
The thought still feels strange no matter how many times you repeat it to yourself. Your friends had shown you pictures, messages, screenshots, little pieces of proof that seemed too specific to deny and too unfamiliar to accept all at once. There were photos of you beside him in places you don’t remember visiting, videos of him laughing at something you must have said, and blurry selfies where you looked so comfortable leaning into him that it almost felt embarrassing to look at for too long. It was your face in all of them, your smile, your hands, your life, and yet it felt like looking at someone who had borrowed your body for a year and returned it without explaining anything.
You pull your phone from your pocket again even though you already know there is no new message waiting for you. The tweet you posted earlier sits there innocently on your private account like it hadn’t just summoned the most confusing person in your life to the cafeteria.
You send him a message for the first time ever since your return.
I’m waiting near the snack bar.
You don’t know why that bothers you. Maybe because you don’t know him well enough to understand whether his silence means he’s annoyed, busy, amused, or simply used to ignoring you. Maybe because there is something unsettling about being left on seen by someone everyone keeps telling you used to love you. Or maybe because, deep down, a part of you had expected him to answer like he knew exactly how to calm you down.
Instead, there is only the noise of the cafeteria and your own uneasiness sitting heavy in your chest.
You stare at your phone for a few seconds longer before locking it with a quiet sigh, letting it fall onto the table beside your untouched drink.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Maybe meeting him face to face wasn’t necessary yet.
You don’t even know what you’re expecting out of this conversation. Closure? Answers? Some magical moment where looking at him suddenly unlocks every missing memory in your head like one of those dramatic movie scenes?
You rub your thumb absentmindedly against the edge of your phone before glancing toward the cafeteria entrance once again.
A light touch lands against the back of your shoulder.
You jolt so badly you nearly choke on your own breath, immediately turning around in your seat with wide eyes.
Because standing behind you is him, Choi Yeonjun.
You recognize him immediately, not from memory but from the countless photos and videos your friends had shown you over the past two days in desperate attempts to fill in the missing pieces inside your head. Still, seeing him in person feels different somehow. More awkward and definitely more real.
For a second, all you can really do is… stare.
He looks unfairly calm compared to the mess currently unfolding inside your head, one hand still half raised from tapping your shoulder while the other rests inside the pocket of his hoodie.
Up close, there’s something strangely disorienting about him. Familiar enough to make you pause, yet distant at the same time, like your mind recognizes him before your memory does.
And annoyingly enough, he’s pretty.
Like… distractingly pretty.
His eyebrows lift slightly as he watches your stunned expression. For a second, he just stands there awkwardly, like he isn’t entirely sure how to start this conversation either.
“Hi,” he says after a moment, quieter than you expected.
Something small shifts in his expression at that, almost relieved. He lets out a soft breath through his nose before glancing down briefly at the seat across from you.
“Yes,” you answer a little too quickly, immediately straightening in your seat. “Yeah, of course.”
Yeonjun nods quietly before pulling the chair across from you out just enough to sit down properly. For a few seconds, neither of you say anything. The noise of the cafeteria continues around you so normally that it almost makes the situation feel even stranger somehow.
“This feels a bit weird to me,” you admit carefully. “I mean… we’re together, as I've been told.” A small awkward laugh leaves you before you continue, quieter this time. “And I just wanna make sure about the, uh… details of our relationship, I guess.”
Yeonjun stays silent, listening.
“How we met,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes for a second. “How long we’ve been dating… what it was like…” You hesitate briefly before adding, almost embarrassed, “Stuff like that.”
Yeonjun stays quiet for a moment like he’s carefully thinking through what to say first.
“We started dating around four months ago,” he says gently. “I was the one who approached you first because… well.” He looks away briefly, almost awkwardly. “You’re pretty.”
Your stomach twists a little at how casually he says it.
“And you used to help out near the basketball court a lot,” he continues. “I think it was mostly because your friend was a cheerleader? Wonhee, right?”
“I noticed you there first,” he says. “Then we just kept running into each other after that. We got closer naturally, I guess.” A faint smile appears on his face for a second. “And then eventually we started dating.”
You stay quiet, trying to piece together the version of yourself he’s describing inside your head, and it feels strangely unsettling listening to someone explain your own life back to you.
Yeonjun notices your expression immediately, and his voice softens even more after that.
“I know you have a cat named Pixie,” he says. “Because your favorite Pokemon is Vulpix. The Alolan one, by the way.”
There’s a tiny bit of pride in his voice when he says that last part, like he’s weirdly pleased with himself for remembering correctly.
“You used to get annoyed whenever people forgot that part.”
A small breath leaves you before you can stop it, somewhere between a laugh and disbelief.
“And I came over to your house a lot too,” he continues. “Your mom always made those banana chocolate chip muffins whenever I visited.”
This time, he actually smiles properly.
Not a huge one, but enough that you can tell he’s unintentionally getting carried away talking about you.
Then he notices the look on your face, and almost immediately, the smile falters.
Because while he’s talking, all you can really think about is how none of this feels familiar to you at all.
You take a small breath before speaking again, fingers nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of your uniform.
“Then maybe…” You hesitate briefly. “Maybe we could hang out more? You know, just to help me remember things.”
Yeonjun stays quiet, listening carefully.
“Because truthfully,” you continue more softly, “I feel kinda horrible about all of this. Like… the accident was obviously bad for me, but I’m sure having your girlfriend forget your entire relationship probably isn’t much better.”
The words leave your mouth awkwardly, but they’re honest.
You glance at him properly for the first time since he sat down.
“So maybe,” you say with a small uncertain smile, “we can just… get to know each other again for now?”
Yeonjun looks at you for a moment before a small smile slowly appears on his face, softer this time. There’s something relieved about it, like your words had loosened a tension he’d been carrying around ever since seeing you again. And for a second, he’s reminded all over again why he fell for you in the first place. Even now, sitting across from him with missing memories and hesitant eyes, you’re still trying to think about his feelings before your own.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, glancing down for a second as if suddenly shy under your attention. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
You can’t help the awkward laugh that leaves you after that, mostly out of relief yourself. The atmosphere between you finally feels a little less tense now, less like two strangers being forced into a conversation they don’t know how to navigate.
Yeonjun clears his throat lightly before standing from his seat. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get you something to eat. My treat.”
“Oh, it’s alright,” you say quickly, already reaching for your bag. “I brought my wallet-”
Before you can properly take it out, Yeonjun gently pushes your hand back down toward the table.
“Well,” he says with the smallest smile, “reminder number one, I guess. Ever since we started dating, your wallet’s basically never left its spot on your desk.”
“You never had to pay when you were with me,” he says simply, almost amused now. “I always did because… I wanted to.”
There’s no arrogance in the way he says it either, which somehow makes it worse. Or better. You can’t really tell.
You end up laughing quietly instead, shaking your head a little in disbelief.
“Well,” you mumble while standing up beside him, “who am I to turn down free food?”
A soft laugh escapes him at that.
And for the first time since sitting down with him, the smile you exchange doesn’t feel nearly as awkward as before.
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