WANT YOU BACK | Myung Jaehyun
genre:Â angst, slice of life, second chance
synopsis: Jaehyun was never good with labels. He liked easy, fun, and uncomplicated — so when a girl falls for him, he keeps things vague, calling it a "situationship" instead of something real. But she's tired of being kept at arm's length. After she walks out, Jaehyun spends weeks telling himself he's fine. Until he sees her at a party, laughing with someone else — and suddenly, all the feelings he's been avoiding come crashing down. A story about fear, pride, and learning to say "I love you" before it's too late.
pairing:Â nonidol!Jaehyun x fem!reader
"No matter how long you're gone, I'm always gonna want you back."
Jaehyun was never good with labels.
It's not that he was an asshole — or at least he liked to think he wasn't. He just thought labels were traps. "Boyfriend" meant responsibilities. Meant 3 AM calls to argue. Meant meeting the parents and enduring awkward questions. Meant, above all, the possibility of something nice becoming complicated.
And he didn't want complicated. He wanted easy. He wanted laughs. He wanted to hang out.
That's why, when she came into his life, Jaehyun thought he'd found the perfect balance.
She was fun. Effortlessly. She laughed at his bad jokes — the same ones that made his friends roll their eyes. She liked the same music. Had the same sense of humor. And when they were together, time sped up in a way Jaehyun hadn't experienced since childhood.
They'd hang out on weekends. Sometimes weekdays too. They'd have dinner together, watch series on the couch, fall asleep in front of the TV. He'd take her to his recording studio — not the dance one, the music one, where he spent hours making beats no one listened to — and she'd sit in the corner, reading or just watching him, never getting bored.
Sometimes they'd kiss. Sometimes they'd do more than kiss. Sometimes not. And that was fine. No pressure. No expectations.
Because what Jaehyun didn't understand — what he'd never understood — was that she didn't work the same way he did.
She wasn't there "to hang out." She wasn't there because it was "easy." She was there because she'd fallen in love.
And falling in love with Jaehyun was like falling in love with a hurricane: exciting, addictive, but impossible to catch.
That's when she started questioning things, and eventually she asked the question Jaehyun dreaded most.
It happened on a Sunday night.
They'd spent the afternoon together. He'd cooked for her — pasta, the only recipe he could nail — and she'd laughed because he'd added too much salt. Later they lay on the bed, her head on his chest, his hand in her hair, his fingers tangling through the ends.
The moment was perfect. One of those moments Jaehyun stored in a mental folder labeled "good things."
That's why, when she spoke, he wasn't ready.
"Jaehyun," she said quietly. "What are we?"
The question fell between them like a stone into a calm lake.
Jaehyun stopped stroking her hair.
"What do you mean, what are we?"
"Exactly that. What are we? What is this?"
Jaehyun was quiet for a moment. Searched for words. Didn't find any.
"We're us," he finally said. "We're having fun, aren't we?"
"Yeah," she replied, and her voice sounded smaller. "But that doesn't answer my question."
Jaehyun sighed. Sat up a little, leaning his back against the headboard. She moved too, sitting beside him with her legs crossed and an expression he couldn't read.
"Look," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not good with labels. I don't like boxing things in. What we have is good, right? We don't need to name it."
"It's not about naming it," she said, her tone more serious now. "It's about knowing what to expect from this."
"And what do you expect?"
She looked him in the eyes. Hers were bright — not with tears, but with determination.
"I don't want this to be just casual sex," she said. "I don't want to feel like I'm just another girl. Because I'm not. And you don't treat me like I am. You treat me like a girlfriend. You cook for me. You tell me things. You introduced me to your friends. But then you don't want to put a name on it?"
Because she was right. He treated her like a girlfriend. He opened the car door for her. Bought her favorite chocolate without her asking. Remembered her birthday and the name of her childhood dog.
But also… there were others.
It's not that Jaehyun was unfaithful in the strict sense of the word. He hadn't cheated on her because, technically, they weren't together. Technically, they were free. And he'd clung to that freedom like a shield.
One night, three weeks ago, he'd kissed a girl at a party. Just a kiss. It didn't mean anything. She was there, and he was a little drunk, and it happened.
He hadn't told her. Not because he wanted to hide it, but because he didn't know how to say it without sounding bad. And now, with her looking at him like that, with that mix of affection and disappointment, he felt worse than if he'd actually cheated.
"It's not just sex," he finally said, quietly. "That's not it. You matter to me."
"Matter how?" she asked. "Matter like a friend with benefits? Matter like your situationship? Because I don't want to be a situationship, Jaehyun. I want to be a something. Or an everything. But not a situationship."
"I don't know what I want," he admitted, the honesty coming straight from his gut, unfiltered. "I like you. I like you a lot. But I'm afraid of…"
"Of screwing up. Of this getting complicated. Of us not being us anymore."
She looked at him. Her eyes, once bright, now seemed dimmer.
"That doesn't make sense," she said. "If we don't try, we'll never know if it works."
"And if we try and it doesn't work, I lose you completely," he replied. "At least this way I have you."
She shook her head. Slowly. Like she was processing something she already knew but needed to hear out loud to believe.
"You don't have me," she said. "You don't have me. Because I'm not here to be had halfway. I'm here because I love you. But if you don't want the same thing…"
"I didn't say I don't want it," he interrupted.
"You didn't say you do, either."
The silence settled between them. Heavy. Hot.
Jaehyun wanted to say something. Wanted to find the magic words that would fix everything, that would make her stay without him having to fully commit. But the words wouldn't come. They never came when he needed them most.
She got out of bed. Grabbed her things. Her hoodie. Her sneakers. Her phone charger.
"What are you doing?" Jaehyun asked, though he already knew.
"We can talk about this…"
"We already talked," she said, not looking at him. "And there's nothing to talk about. You don't know what you want. And I can't wait for you to figure it out."
"That's not fair," he said, his voice coming out higher than he wanted. "I'm not asking you to wait. I'm just asking you to…"
"What? Settle for this?" She turned around. She was holding her hoodie, still not wearing it. Her eyes were wet. "Because I won't. I can't. I don't want to wake up a year from now and still be the girl you hang out with while you see what else comes along."
"I'm not seeing anyone else," Jaehyun lied.
She looked at him. And for a second, Jaehyun thought she knew. That she'd found out about the kiss. That she'd seen the messages. That someone had told her.
But she didn't say anything.
"That's not true," she said quietly. "And we both know it."
Jaehyun felt a punch in his chest.
"It's not what you think…"
"It doesn't matter what I think," she interrupted. "It doesn't matter. Because the problem isn't other girls. The problem is you. And that you don't know what you want. And that I can't wait for you to figure it out."
She finished getting dressed. Picked up her things. Stuffed them into her bag with quick, precise movements, like she'd been rehearsing this scene for days.
Jaehyun stayed in bed, not moving. The sheet covered his waist. His chest was bare. His heart was beating too fast.
"This isn't going to work," she said from the door. "I'm sorry."
The door closed with a soft click.
Jaehyun stared at the empty space where she'd been.
He wanted to run after her. Wanted to call her. Wanted to say "wait, don't go, let's fix this."
Because deep down — deep, deep down — he knew she was right.
He didn't know what he wanted.
And she couldn't wait for him to figure it out.
Seven days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes.
Jaehyun counted them all.
He didn't call. Didn't text. Not because he didn't want to — he did, every second — but because he didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry" didn't work anymore. "Let's talk" had already failed. "I love you" scared him, because what if he said it and she still left? What if he said it and it was too late? What if he said it and it wasn't enough?
But a week later, in his apartment kitchen, with half-made coffee and his phone in his hand, he got tired of being scared.
The reply took forty-three minutes to arrive. It was the longest wait of his life.
Jaehyun:Â About us. About what happened. About what I didn't say.
I don't know if there's anything to say.
Jaehyun:Â Please. One hour. If after that you still think there's nothing to say, I won't bother you again.
Tonight. The usual cafe. At 8.
Jaehyun let out the air he didn't know he'd been holding.
He arrived early. Ten minutes. Sat at a table by the window, ordered a coffee he wasn't going to drink, and waited.
Her hair was down, a denim jacket, the same earrings she'd taken from his nightstand a week ago. The same face. The same eyes. But something about her was different. More distant. Like she'd already started forgetting him.
The silence settled between them, awkward, like an unwanted guest.
"You said you wanted to talk," she said, breaking it.
Jaehyun took a deep breath. He'd rehearsed this. In the shower, in the car, in bed before sleeping. He'd prepared phrases, arguments, explanations. But now, with her in front of him, all those words sounded hollow.
"I'm scared," he finally said.
She looked at him, saying nothing.
"It's not that I don't love you," he continued, his voice lower. "It's that I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be a partner. I've never been good at it. And every time someone expects something from me, I end up screwing up. So I thought if we didn't put labels on it, if we didn't define anything, I couldn't screw up. But I screwed up anyway."
"I wasn't asking for a perfect definition," she said. "I was asking for honesty."
"And you didn't give it."
Jaehyun looked at her. Her eyes weren't hard. They were sad. That hurt more.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know if I've changed. I don't know if I can change. I just know that this week… I missed you. A lot. And I don't want this to end."
She was quiet for a long time. Her coffee went cold. So did his. The cafe noise hummed in the background.
"Jaehyun," she finally said. "I love you. But loving you isn't enough if you don't know what you want."
"I want you," he said. "That I know."
"No," she shook her head. "You know you like me. You know we have fun. But you don't know if you want something serious with me. And I can't wait for you to figure it out. I can't be your situationship while you decide if you're ready or not."
"That's not fair," Jaehyun said, his voice more fragile than he wanted. "It's not fair to ask me to know what I want when sometimes I don't even know who I am."
"It's not fair to me either," she replied. "I'm not asking you to know who you are. I'm asking you to love me without fear. And you can't."
Jaehyun wanted to say yes. Wanted to say "I can, let me prove it." But the words got stuck in his throat. Because she was right. He couldn't. Or he could, but didn't know how. Or he could, but was so afraid of trying and failing that he'd rather not try at all.
"What do you want to do?" he asked, his voice now a whisper.
She looked at him. Her eyes grew wet, but she didn't cry. She didn't cry either.
"I think," she said slowly, "we should just be friends."
The word "friends" kicked him in the stomach.
"Friends?" he repeated, like tasting something bitter.
"Yeah," she said. "Friends. That way we don't hurt each other more."
"Do you really think that'll work? Seeing each other like nothing happened?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But it's the only thing I can think of."
Jaehyun looked down. Looked at the table, the empty cups, her hands resting on the surface. Her nails were bitten. She bit them when she was nervous too.
"Okay," he said. "If that's what you want."
Jaehyun looked up. Looked at her. He wanted to say no. Wanted to say "I want more, I want to try, I want us to be together." But he didn't know if he meant it or if he was just saying it to not lose her. And if he didn't know, he couldn't say it.
"Yeah," he lied. "Friends."
She nodded. Stood up. Paid for her coffee — didn't let him pay — and put on her jacket.
"See you around, Jaehyun," she said, with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"See you around," he replied.
Jaehyun stayed at the table, with two empty cups and a lump in his throat.
The word spun in his head like a bad song he couldn't shake.
It wasn't what he wanted.
But he didn't know what he wanted.
And that was the problem.
The following weeks were a learning experience.
Jaehyun learned that missing someone doesn't hurt like a punch. It hurts like shortness of breath. Like a dry cough that won't go away. Like an itch under your skin that you can't scratch.
He learned that seeing her in the friends' group chat was a constant reminder of what he'd lost. He learned to read her messages without replying. Learned not to check her KakaoTalk status. Learned to pretend he didn't care.
He learned that saying "I'm fine" when you're not is an art.
And he learned, above all, that what he needed to realize he loved her was to see that she was no longer within his reach.
Because before, when she was there, when he could call her and she'd answer, when he could see her and she'd smile — before, he'd taken her for granted. Not maliciously. Just stupidly. With the stupidity of someone who thinks time is infinite.
Now time was running out.
"I love you," he thought at night, when he couldn't sleep. "I love you and I didn't tell you."
The party was at a friend-of-a-friend's place. A huge apartment, loud music, people he didn't know and people he did. Jaehyun had gone because Sungho told him to get out of his cave, because Leehan reminded him he hadn't seen sunlight in three weeks, because Woonhak sent him a message with seventeen emojis that basically said "LET'S FUCKING GO."
He wore the shirt she liked — not on purpose, or maybe yes, who knows — fixed his hair a little, and left.
The party was loud. Too loud. People were dancing in the living room, drinking in the kitchen, screaming on the balconies. Jaehyun had one beer. Then another. Then lost count.
He was in the kitchen, pouring himself something stronger, when he saw her.
It wasn't a guy he knew. Dark hair, leather jacket, his hand on her arm while she laughed at something he'd said. And she was laughing with her whole body, like always, like before, like when she laughed with him.
Jaehyun felt something hot rise in his chest.
It wasn't sadness. It was something else. Uglier. Hotter.
That thing that makes you grip your glass too hard and have to remind yourself you can't break it because it's not yours.
Someone called him. He didn't hear.
He stood there watching the leather-jacket guy whisper something in her ear. Watched her smile. Watched her tuck her hair behind her ear — that gesture, that damn gesture he knew so well.
This time it was Woonhak. Appeared next to him with a drink in his hand and a worried look.
"You okay? You're really pale."
"I'm fine," Jaehyun lied.
"You're staring at…" Woonhak followed his gaze. Saw her. Saw the guy. Closed his eyes. "Ah, shit."
"It's nothing," Jaehyun said, and downed his glass in one go. "I just need more alcohol."
"That's not a good idea."
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
Jaehyun poured another. And another. And another.
The alcohol went down hot and came out bitter. It didn't help. She was still there, across the room, and he was still watching her, and the leather-jacket guy still had his hand on her arm.
He put the glass down on the counter. Left the kitchen. Crossed the room without looking at anyone. Climbed the stairs — two, three, four floors — until he found the door to the rooftop.
The cold air hit his face.
He'd been drinking, yes. But not enough to get drunk. Enough to feel the heat in his cheeks and the buzz in his head, but not enough to stop thinking.
And thinking was the problem.
Because when he thought, he saw her face. When he thought, he remembered her laugh. When he thought, he hated himself for not saying "I love you" when he still could.
He leaned on the railing. Looked at the city lights. Down below, the party continued, the music muffled by the walls.
"I wish I could forget you," he murmured to the wind.
But the rooftop door did. It creaked open.
"We knew you'd be here," said Woonhak's voice.
"Not the first time you've hidden on a rooftop," added Taesan. "We have experience."
Jaehyun didn't turn around. Kept looking at the lights.
"I'm not hiding," he said. "Just getting some air."
"Sure," said Taesan, his voice skeptical. "That's why you're gripping the railing like it's about to fly away."
Jaehyun looked at his hands. Let go.
"To make sure you don't do something stupid," said Woonhak, walking closer. "We saw you staring at her."
"You're a terrible liar, Jaehyun," said Taesan. "You've always been a terrible liar."
Jaehyun turned around. His eyes were bright — not with tears, with barely contained anger — and he had a twisted smile on his face.
"Fine, yes, I was staring," he said. "So what? She's over there with leather-jacket guy, laughing like I never existed. Like the six months we spent together never happened. And I'm here, on a rooftop, alone, because I can't go down and say 'hi' without looking like a loser."
"Then go down and talk to her," said Woonhak.
Jaehyun let out a bitter laugh.
"Talk to her? Why? So she can tell me again she doesn't want to be my situationship? So she can look at me with that pity face and tell me it's too late? No thanks."
"You don't know it's too late if you don't try," Woonhak insisted.
"And what do you know?" Jaehyun stared at him, his voice shifting. Getting sharper. More cutting. "Look who's talking. Mr. 'I can't tell my best friend I like her because she has a terrible boyfriend she won't leave.'"
The silence became solid.
Taesan opened his mouth. Closed it. Then let out a laugh — short, nervous, the laugh of someone who doesn't know if laughing is appropriate.
But Woonhak was already making a face.
"That wasn't funny," Woonhak said.
"I wasn't trying to be funny," Jaehyun replied, though his voice wasn't as confident anymore. The alcohol had loosened his tongue, and now he couldn't take back what he'd said.
"I know," said Woonhak. "That's the problem."
The three of them stood in silence. The wind blew. The city lights flickered. Down below, the music played on.
"I'm sorry," Jaehyun finally said. "I shouldn't have said that."
"No," Woonhak replied. "You shouldn't have."
Taesan, who'd had his hand over his mouth for a few seconds, lowered it. His face was a poem: restrained amusement mixed with guilt.
"I'm sorry, Woonhak," Taesan said, his voice trembling from holding back laughter. "I'm really sorry. But that was… that was pretty accurate."
"Hyung," Woonhak narrowed his eyes at him.
"No, no, I'm sorry. Really." Taesan raised his hands in surrender. "I'll behave. Promise."
Woonhak shook his head. But a smile was forming at the corner of his lips.
"Everyone's so sensitive tonight, huh," he muttered, and raised his middle finger toward Jaehyun. "Just so you know."
Jaehyun smiled. A small smile, sad, but real.
"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."
Woonhak lowered his hand. Took a step toward the railing and leaned on it next to him.
"Look," he said, not looking at him. "I get that you're angry. I get that it hurts to see her with someone else. But what I said before — I meant it. You should talk to her."
"Why?" Jaehyun asked again, but this time without anger. Just tiredness.
"To be honest," Woonhak replied. "To tell her what you didn't tell her when you had the chance. Before it's too late."
Taesan walked over too. Stood on Jaehyun's other side, the three in a row, looking at the city lights.
"Woonhak's right," Taesan said. "Sometimes we stay quiet out of pride. Out of fear. Because we think saying things makes us weak. But then time passes, and the other person moves on, and you're left with the words stuck in your throat. And that's worse than any rejection."
"Speaking from experience?" he said.
"Speaking from observation."
He was lying. Jaehyun knew it. But he didn't push.
"I don't know if I can," Jaehyun admitted quietly. "I don't know if I can go down there, look her in the eye, and tell her the truth. I'm scared."
"The fear doesn't go away," said Woonhak. "You just learn to walk with it."
Jaehyun sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. Looked at the door leading back to the party.
"What if she rejects me?"
"Then she rejects you," said Woonhak. "It hurts. And you suffer. And then you heal. And you move on."
"I'm not an optimist. I'm a realist."
Taesan put a hand on Jaehyun's shoulder.
"Go down," he said. "Go down and talk to her. The worst that can happen is she says no. And you already have that."
Jaehyun looked at his two friends. At Woonhak, the youngest, always in a good mood, secretly nursing a broken heart for his best friend. At Taesan, the quiet one, who saw everything without saying anything, who also had his own ghosts.
They weren't there by accident.
They were there because they cared.
"Okay," Jaehyun said. "I'm going down."
"But if she rejects me, you're buying the next round."
Jaehyun stepped away from the railing. Walked toward the door. Before opening it, he turned around.
"What I said before… about your friend… I didn't mean…"
"I know," Woonhak interrupted. "You didn't mean it. But next time you mention that in front of me, I swear I'll throw you off the railing."
Jaehyun smiled. Wider this time.
He opened the door. Walked down the stairs.
His heart was beating too fast. His hands were sweaty. The alcohol had evaporated all at once, leaving him sober and vulnerable.
He went down to the living room. Looked for her.
She was still there. But the leather-jacket guy was gone.
She was alone, leaning against the wall, a half-empty glass in her hand and a distant look in her eyes.
Jaehyun took a deep breath.
Jaehyun reached her side.
They stood looking at each other. The music played. People danced. Normal.
She had a glass in her hand. Her hair was down. The earrings he didn't remember.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I don't know," he replied.
She frowned. Didn't say anything. Waited.
Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. Looked at the floor. Then looked at her.
"Can we talk for a second?"
She nodded. They moved away from the wall, looked for a quieter spot. The kitchen was full, the hallway too. They ended up in a corner near the terrace door, where the noise was lower.
"This is weird," she said, looking around. "We haven't talked in weeks and now we're here, hiding at a party."
"Like old times," he said.
She smiled. A small smile.
Jaehyun took a deep breath.
"Look," he started, his voice unsure. "I don't really know how to say this. I'm not good at this stuff."
"Yeah. But I'll try not to screw it up too badly."
She crossed her arms. Waited.
"The other day, when you left my apartment," Jaehyun said, looking at his own hands, "I stayed in bed for a while. Thinking. And I realized I was an idiot. Not because I didn't love you. But because I was scared to say it. And then it was too late."
"And then I saw you tonight," he continued. "With that guy. The leather jacket one."
"Oh, really?" she said, with a smile he couldn't read.
"Yeah. And I felt something weird in my chest. Like anger, but not exactly."
She let out a short laugh.
"My cousin," she repeated. "He came to visit from Busan. He's been sleeping on my couch for three days and leaving his shoes in the middle of the hallway."
Jaehyun opened his mouth. Closed it.
"Then why were you so close to him?"
"Because he's my cousin, Jaehyun. I don't know if you know how cousins work."
"I don't stand like that with my cousins."
"I don't know. Like that. Laughing. Touching his arm."
She looked at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"Are you calling me out?"
"I'm not calling you out."
"I'm just saying it looked…"
Jaehyun stopped. Realized he was being ridiculous.
"Nothing," he said. "Forget it."
She shook her head, but she was smiling.
"My cousin, Jaehyun. My cousin. And on top of that, he's fresh out of a breakup, so all he wants is for me to feel sorry for him and cook him something hot."
"Now I feel worse," he said.
"Good. That's for you to learn."
Silence. But a lighter silence. Jaehyun put his hands in his pockets. She tucked her hair behind her ear.
"The thing is," Jaehyun said, "I love you. And I didn't say it before because I was weird about it. And now I'm saying it. That's it."
"That's it. I don't have a prepared speech. Just that. I love you and I was an idiot and I'm sorry."
She was quiet. Looked at him. He held her gaze, though it was hard.
"You know what bothers me?" she finally said.
"That this isn't the first time I've heard you say this. You told me a couple of weeks ago, when you came to my house. And then you went quiet again when I asked what you wanted. And I told you let's just be friends. And you agreed."
"Because I didn't know what to do," he said.
"Exactly," she said. "You didn't know what to do. And I can't wait for you to figure it out."
"Yeah," he said. "You're right."
"But you were too slow," she said, her voice softer now. "Too slow. You had weeks to tell me this. Months, even. And you waited until you saw me with my cousin to react. And on top of that, you called me out."
She shook her head. But she wasn't angry. She was tired. It showed in her eyes.
"So now what," she asked. "You say you love me. What do I do with that?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't have a plan. I just wanted you to know."
She looked at him for a moment. Then sighed.
"You're really bad at this."
"You tell me that a lot."
They were quiet. The music played from inside. Someone opened the terrace door and came out to smoke. Looked at them, didn't say anything, went to the other end.
"Jaehyun," she said quietly.
"You loving me doesn't fix what happened before. Doesn't erase the weeks I spent waiting for you to say something. Doesn't erase the night I left your apartment empty-handed."
"But you asked me to talk. And today you came to find me. And I can see it's hard for you. I see that too."
Jaehyun nodded. Didn't know what to say.
She looked at him for a long time. So long that Jaehyun started to feel uncomfortable.
"You're very complicated," she said.
"And pretty bad at communicating what you feel."
"You tell me that often too."
"Because you're still bad at it."
Jaehyun let out a laugh. Small, but real.
"I'll try," he said. "I mean really try. Not promise things I don't know if I can keep. But try. If you want."
She was quiet. Looked inside the party. People were dancing. Woonhak was in a corner with a drink, looking at his phone. Taesan was next to him, reading over his shoulder.
"I'm going to tell you something," she said, looking back at him. "And I don't want you to take it as a victory."
"I think I was too harsh the other day. When I said we should just be friends. Not because I was wrong. I wasn't. But because maybe I should have given you the chance to explain."
"You don't have to apologize," he said.
"I'm not apologizing," she replied. "I'm just saying things aren't black and white."
"And what does that mean?" he asked.
She didn't answer right away. Looked at the floor. Then at him.
"It means I love you," she said. "Despite everything. Even though you were slow and stubborn and bad at communicating. I love you."
"Don't make me repeat it."
They were quiet again. But a different silence. Lighter.
"Look," she said. "I'm not going to say 'let's get back together' like nothing happened. Because it's not like nothing happened. But… I don't want to close the door completely either."
"What does that mean in normal words?" Jaehyun asked.
"It means I'm going to give you one last chance."
"One," she said, holding up a finger. "Just one. And don't make me repeat it again."
Jaehyun closed his mouth.
"I'm not going to ask you to change overnight," she said. "Because I know you can't. But I want you to try to open up a little more. That when you feel something, you say it. Even if it's embarrassing. Even if you don't know how. You try. Okay?"
"Okay," he said, nodding.
"And if you go quiet again when you need to speak, I'm not waiting for you again. You hear me?"
They stood looking at each other. The music played on. Someone laughed inside the party. Normal.
"This is so awkward," Jaehyun said.
"This. Talking about feelings. At a party. In a corner. And on top of that, you called me an idiot in front of my pride."
"You deserved it," she said.
She laughed. A real laugh. The kind that stuck to him.
"Close your eyes," she said.
She moved closer. Put a hand on his cheek. And kissed him.
It wasn't a movie kiss. It was brief. Soft. A "come on, let's try again" in the form of lips.
When they pulled apart, Jaehyun opened his eyes.
"Was that a yes?" he asked.
"That was an 'I'm giving you one last chance,'" she replied. "Don't mix things up."
"But yes," she said, smiling. "Assume it's a yes."
Jaehyun smiled. A big, stupid smile, the kind he couldn't control.
"Now you ask me to dance," she said. "Because I've been talking about feelings all night and I need to clear my head."
"With your cousin?" he asked, a crooked smile on his face.
"You never learn, do you?"
She took his hand. Pulled him into the party.
And as they walked through the crowd, Jaehyun realized he had no idea what was going to happen. If it would work. If it would break again. If she'd get tired of him in two weeks.
But for now, for this moment, he was holding her hand.
Up on the rooftop, Woonhak and Taesan were still looking at the lights.
"You think it worked?" asked Woonhak.
"I don't know," said Taesan. "But he went down. That's something."
They were quiet for a while.
"Should we go down?" asked Woonhak.
"In a minute," said Taesan. "I haven't finished thinking about what you said to me."
Woonhak looked at him strangely. Didn't ask more.
A while later, they went down.
And inside, Jaehyun was dancing with her among the crowd, not knowing what would happen tomorrow, but not caring too much either.
