missing phone calls —finale!
pairing ᝰ.ᐟ !toxicwonbin x !fem reader
▸ genre ᝰ.ᐟ Angst, toxic lovers
▸ features ᝰ.ᐟ hanni- chaewon-giselle-riize members ot7
you thought you had finally figured it all out. eric being your boyfriend felt like a breath of air after drowning for months. the weight on your chest had lifted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t constantly looking over your shoulder for pain to catch up. you thought you had won the battle that nearly ate you alive. and maybe, just maybe—you were half right.
you shouldn’t have said, “i need a break.”
you should’ve said, “we’re done.”
because breaks still leave doors cracked open. and wonbin? he never needed much space to squeeze back in.
had it been that hard in the first place?
you really thought he would’ve taken the hint—that you didn’t want him anymore.
that your silence, your distance, your refusal to meet his eyes when you passed each other on campus… meant something.
but maybe that was your mistake.
wonbin never learned how to let go of things he thought he owned.
nyu was a huge school—people could go four years without seeing the same face twice.
but somehow, you always found him.
or maybe he always found you.
in the coffee line near the medical building.
outside the library at 10 p.m. when you were trying to forget the world.
in the blur of a crowded lecture hall you didn’t even share.
he wasn’t supposed to be there anymore.
he wasn’t even a med student. that’s the crazy part.
he had no reason to be hovering around your side of campus, let alone outside your lectures and labs. he was a psychology major—more into human behavior and late-night theories than twelve-hour anatomy crams and dissecting cadavers.
but somehow, he was always around.
in your building’s café, claiming the coffee was “just better here.”
outside your lecture halls, saying he was “waiting for a friend.”
in the library’s quietest corners, pretending to read while watching you from across the room.
you told yourself it was probably just chance.
but nyu was way too big for that.
you brushed it off, convinced yourself it was just one of those weird coincidences.
you had a loving boyfriend now—someone who made you feel safe, chosen. someone who held your hand without hesitation, who waited for you outside your labs with takeout and inside jokes. eric made you laugh even when you felt like crying, and that had to count for something.
hanni, who always picked up your calls—even at 2 a.m.—just to listen. chaewon, whose advice was sharp and a little brutal but always right. and yunjin, who cracked a joke at the exact moment you were about to cry, and made the world feel less heavy when she did.
they were your people. your constant. your balance.
so yeah, you took it lightly.
because how could you not, when you had all this love around you?
you had eric. you had your friends. you had yourself, finally learning how to breathe again.
you were finally free from the mess that had drained you for almost a year. just one more thing to deal with — and it didn’t even scare you anymore.
you actually study?” eric scoffed, eyes narrowing as he leaned back against your couch, stretching his arms like he hadn’t just insulted your entire academic career.
“uhm, yeah?” you shot back, glancing up from your laptop. “i’m trying to graduate, stupid. medical school isn’t, like, easy.”
he shook his head dramatically, tossing a grape into his mouth from the bowl between you. “i only study the day before tests. i mean… it’s so boring.”
you tried to hide your laugh but failed, biting your lip to contain it. “that’s why you always bomb exams…”
he smacked his teeth, clearly offended. “first of all, i don’t bomb. second, my mcat wasn’t even bad. it was actually kind of fire.”
you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look. “ummm right… if you count barely surviving as ‘fire.’”
he gasped, clutching his chest. “you wound me. i’m a sensitive man, y/n.”
“you’re a liar is what you are.”
he leaned over, grinning as he whispered, “yeah, but i’m your liar.”
you stared at him for a second, trying not to smile. “you’re the most annoying man i’ve ever met.”
“and yet, you let me into your high-rise. fed me. let me bother you. that’s love.”
you rolled your eyes again, but you were already sliding closer to him on the couch, laptop forgotten. “maybe i just pity you.”
he smirked, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “or maybe you’re obsessed with me.”
“or maybe i have a soft spot for idiots.”
“still obsessed,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“i survived with a 130. still in medical school. argue with the wall,” he said, casually tossing your pen between his fingers like he hadn’t just said something ridiculous.
you raised a brow, unimpressed. “eric. the minimum score to get in is literally a 127. you’re acting like you broke records.”
(actually not a pun.. its real guys)
he grinned, unbothered. “and yet, here i am. thriving. passing. future doctor.”
“future patient if you keep slacking like this,” you muttered, turning your page with dramatic flair.
he leaned closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you worried about me, doc?”
you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flipped. “i’m worried about the reputation of the hospital that hires you.”
“you’re mean,” he whispered, fake-pouting.
“you’re lazy,” you whispered back, smirking.
he tapped your notebook, voice low. “and you’re hot when you get all serious like this. makes me wanna interrupt your study session.”
you stared at him. “you literally are interrupting my study session.”
he smirked. “and yet, you haven’t kicked me out. interesting.”
you shook your head, hiding a small smile. “this is why i lock my door when i actually need to focus.”
“note to self,” he said, tapping the pen to his temple. “get a key.”
“note to me,” you replied, grabbing your pen back, “start studying somewhere he can’t find me.”
he leaned in again, voice softer this time. “yeah, but you’d miss me.”
you didn’t respond. you just nudged him with your shoulder—gently—and went back to highlighting, pretending like your face wasn’t already warm.
after you finally closed your laptop and tossed your pen to the side, you slumped back into the couch with a groan. “done,” you announced dramatically. “my brain is officially fried.”
eric looked up from his phone, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. “so proud of you, future doctor,” he teased, scooting closer. “now you can finally give me attention.”
“you had plenty of my attention,” you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes. “you were literally distracting me the entire time.”
“i was motivating you,” he said, leaning in, his voice lower now. “and now that you’re done… i think i deserve a reward.”
you raised a brow, lips curving into a smile. “a reward, huh?”
he nodded, already leaning closer, his hand brushing against your jaw. “mhmm. something small, just for being so patient.”
you giggled softly, the tension in your shoulders finally melting now that you were out of study mode. “fine. one kiss.”
but he didn’t hesitate. he leaned in and kissed you gently, like he’d been waiting all day for it. it was soft and slow, his fingers brushing behind your ear, the kind of kiss that made your toes curl despite how many you’d shared before.
“okay,” you whispered when he finally pulled back, barely an inch between your faces. “maybe you did deserve that.”
“mm, just one?” he teased, eyes flicking down to your lips again. “i think i studied too…”
you laughed, already giving in as you leaned in for another.
he bit his lip, leaning back just slightly, eyes teasing as they roamed your face. “i would ask to have sex with you,” he started, voice low and smug, “but you’re probably gonna decipher the human body while i’m in it.”
you let out a dramatic groan, grabbing a pillow and hitting him in the chest with it. “you’re so dumb,” you muttered, trying not to smile.
“mind you,” you added, narrowing your eyes at him, “you don’t even know the human body.”
“shhh,” he smirked, tossing the pillow aside as he slid closer, hand slipping around your waist. “kiss me before i start naming bones wrong on purpose.”
you rolled your eyes again, but you were already leaning in. “you’d say femur when it’s clearly the tibia.”
“hot,” he whispered just before your lips met again.
he grabbed your side, fingers brushing a little too low, and quickly pulled back. “sorry—i didn’t mean—”
you furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “eric. you’re my boyfriend… why would i care?”
his lips twitched into a small grin, and without another word, he spread his legs slightly and tugged you gently into his lap. it wasn’t anything serious—you were just casually chatting, scrolling through something on your phone, head resting on his shoulder. his hand played with a strand of your hair while you rambled about your exam.
both of you jumped as hanni stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide, hands dramatically thrown over her face. “are you guys seriously—on the couch—right now?!”
you blinked, glanced down at yourself, fully clothed in your hoodie and sweats, and sighed. “um… hanni… i have clothes on.”
eric smirked. “lots of ‘em, too. unfortunately.”
“i hate it here,” she groaned, walking away.
eric looked at you, a little too serious this time. “we’re gonna go do it right now, right y/n?”
you blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift in tone. your breath caught in your throat, and you exhaled slowly through your nose. “you act like a teenager.”
he didn’t smile this time. “maybe. but i’m not joking.”
you glanced at him, eyes narrowing—not in anger, but in hesitation, in disbelief. and maybe something else too. something warmer. something dangerous.
he groaned, standing up. “um bye hanni” you jokingly signing SOS.
you both entered the room, and eric snickered, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “i’m just playing,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “not until you’re ready, my love.” he flopped back onto the bed, making himself comfortable.
you raised an eyebrow, watching him. “oh, wait… you’re joking?” you asked, half surprised. “i thought you were serious.”
he sat up abruptly, his expression shifting slightly. “you want to?” he asked, his tone lighter but with a hint of seriousness now.
you shrugged, your lips curling into a playful smile. “if you do… do you want to?” you teased back, leaning slightly forward as if to test his reaction.
eric raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “ are you a virgin, y/n?”
you blinked, taken aback by the question. “seriously? that’s the question now?”
he shrugged casually, not missing a beat. “just wondering. no big deal.”
you rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm. “no, i’m not a virgin. what, you expecting a patient history or something?”
he let out a laugh, nodding. “i mean, you’re practically a walking case study at this point, y/n. might need a full workup.”
you smirked, leaning back slightly. “well, eric, let’s just say i’m not exactly a rare condition. but you might still need to get checked out yourself.”
he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “hey, i’m healthy, just a little… infectious when it comes to my charisma .”
he stepped out of his sweatpants, and instinctively, you turned your head with a small gasp.
“i’m so sorry,” you mumbled, eyes squeezed shut, face burning.
eric let out a low laugh, the kind that vibrated in his chest. “i have shorts on, don’t worry,” he said, voice playful. “unless you want them off.”
you hesitated for a second too long, and when you finally turned back to him, you weren’t smiling anymore. you swallowed, cheeks still warm.
the word hung in the air longer than it should’ve. he tilted his head, like he wasn’t sure if you meant it. like he wanted you to say it again just to be sure. but then you reached for him, gently, and that was enough.
he took a slow step forward. you didn’t back away.
when he kissed you, it wasn’t rushed or messy. it was quiet. thoughtful. like he was matching your breath. your lips moved against his in soft sync, nothing too deep at first—just warm, steady presses, like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth.
your hands gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. his fingers found your waist, and the contact sent a wave of warmth down your spine.
it wasn’t about lust, not really. it was about being seen. being wanted. being safe.
the kisses grew heavier, a little deeper. you felt his smile against your lips when you pushed him lightly onto the bed.
“so bossy,” he teased, breathless.
“shut up,” you whispered, laughing quietly.
he shifted back, head hitting the pillow, and opened his arms like he’d been waiting for you all night. you crawled in, half on top of him, faces still close.
his hands ran slow circles along your back, and yours rested on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your fingers. every now and then, he’d kiss the top of your head, your temple, the corner of your mouth.
when you woke up hours later, the sky outside was still dark. the only light in the room came from the glow of your phone screen lighting up on the nightstand.
you blinked blearily, face still smushed into eric’s shoulder, his soft snores tickling your ear.
your fingers reached out and flipped the phone over.
you didn’t have to think twice.
you sat up a little, the weight of it creeping back in.
even now—even after you had finally let go, after letting someone else in—he was still calling.
but this time, the timing was too late.
you glanced over at eric, his arm instinctively tightening around your waist in his sleep. you studied the gentle curve of his lips, the crease between his brows, the way he never let go of you even unconsciously.
but tomorrow, you’d have to say it out loud.
“i don’t want you anymore.” because you did have someone now.
you didn’t fall back asleep right away.
you tried. closed your eyes. shifted under the covers. listened to eric’s soft snoring, even let your fingers trace the hem of the blanket where it rested against your chest. but your mind kept looping. over that ringtone. over what it meant. over what you still hadn’t said.
you turned onto your side, trying not to disturb eric, but he stirred anyway. always did when you couldn’t sleep.
“you good?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
you hesitated. “yeah. can’t shut my brain off.”
he let out a soft breath, eyes still closed, and blindly reached for your hand under the blanket. you let him take it.
you stayed quiet for a few seconds. “wonbin called.”
that woke him up a bit more. he blinked at you now, eyes clearer. “you answered?”
“no. just saw the number.”
eric nodded slowly. “he’s still calling this late?”
you swallowed. “always does. i used to pick up. even when we weren’t talking.” you paused. “it was a habit.”
he didn’t say anything right away. he just looked at you, then pulled your hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
you sighed. “i know i should block him. i just haven’t… i don’t know. gotten around to it?”
“you don’t have to explain it to me,” he said gently. “i get it.”
you looked over at him. “do you?”
he hesitated for a second, then nodded. “yeah. i mean, i don’t like it, but… i get that things take time. you were in it for a while. that stuff doesn’t just disappear.”
you felt your chest tighten. not in a bad way—more like guilt mixed with appreciation. “i’m not still in it. i swear.”
“i know,” he said. “i just also know how it feels when someone doesn’t fully let you go.”
“he doesn’t think you mean it,” eric added quietly. “that it’s really over.”
you chewed your lip. “maybe i haven’t been clear enough.”
“i just need to tell him we’re done. like actually done. no more ‘breaks.’ no more confusion.”
“do you want me to be there when you do?”
you shook your head. “no. it’s something i need to say on my own.”
he studied your face for a few seconds, then nodded. “okay. just say the word if you change your mind.”
you gave a small, tired smile. “thank you.”
he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “no pressure, okay? just… do it when you’re ready. but don’t keep him halfway in the door if he’s not supposed to be there.”
you exhaled slowly. “i know.”
the room fell quiet again. outside, the city was still moving—sirens in the distance, a car honking on some street below. eric shifted onto his back, one arm behind his head, the other still holding your hand.
“i don’t want you to feel like i’m waiting on some perfect version of you,” he said after a moment. “i just like being here. with you. even if your brain won’t shut off.”
you turned toward him, head on his shoulder. “you’re way too understanding.”
you both laughed a little.
and somehow, after all of that, it felt easier to close your eyes again. not because the problem was fixed. but because someone stayed. because he made space for you, even with the mess.
you should be happy. you know that. you’re in a warm bed, wrapped in the arms of someone who actually cares about you. eric makes you laugh. he listens. he never raises his voice. never makes you feel like you’re too much.
there’s this ache you can’t place.
a quiet guilt that clings to your chest like humidity.
his fingers were still lightly resting on your waist from last night, the way he always holds you like he’s scared you’ll disappear. like he knows what it took for you to finally let someone love you like this.
you woke up with someone else’s name sitting at the back of your throat.
you don’t even know what you miss, not really. the yelling? the back-and-forth? the way your stomach used to drop whenever he pulled away, just to crawl back days later like nothing happened?
but maybe that was the problem.
with eric, there’s no chaos. no climbing heartbreak. just calm.
and you don’t know how to live without the adrenaline of being almost loved.
you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, trying not to wake him. a missed call. no name, but you already knew. he always called from blocked numbers. always showed up when you were finally okay.
“again?” eric mumbled, his voice hoarse.
you jumped slightly. “sorry. didn’t mean to wake you.”
“it’s okay.” he stretched, eyes barely open. “him?”
you didn’t answer right away.
he sighed, sitting up slowly. “do you still want him?”
you hated that question. not because you didn’t know the answer — but because he didn’t deserve to wonder.
“no,” you said softly. “i don’t want him. i just haven’t forgotten how he made me feel.”
eric nodded. didn’t press. didn’t react. that’s what made it worse.
you curled back under the sheets, but his touch was softer now. a little hesitant.
and all you could think about was how unfair it was — that the one who loves you gets the bruised, half-recovered version of you. and the one who broke you still gets to live rent-free in your head.
you spent the rest of the day with giselle, just the two of you wandering around soho like you used to. hanni was busy with work, eric had gone home for a few hours to check on his younger brother, and chaewon had already flown back to korea the night before. the city was buzzing, as usual—car horns in the distance, the low hum of chatter spilling from cafes, and the occasional gust of wind that whipped your hair out of place.
you were bored out of your mind earlier, but once you met up with giselle, time passed faster. she had been gone for months studying abroad, and now that she was finally back, she wanted all the details—especially the messy ones.
“wait, you and wonbin don’t even talk anymore?” she blinked, eyes wide as you passed a busy intersection. the sky was fading into that golden blue hour hue, soft and hazy above the buildings.
you nodded, licking the frosting off a cakepop you’d grabbed from starbucks earlier. “yeah. it got really bad.”
she gave you a look, one of those long, slow blinks that screamed you’re kidding. “but when i left, you two were like… obsessed with each other.”
you exhaled through your nose. “yeah. that lasted, like, another four months. then it kind of fell apart.”
you tried to summarize the chaos—everything from the constant arguments to how tired you felt trying to fix something that kept breaking. she listened intently, occasionally sipping her iced matcha, her eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.
“so now you’re dating someone else? eric?” she asked after a beat.
“mmhm,” you hummed, pushing your hands deeper into your coat pockets. “he’s actually—like—healthy. he’s calm, supportive. he doesn’t make me feel like i’m walking on eggshells.”
she smiled, nudging your shoulder with hers. “i’m glad. you deserve that.”
the two of you kept walking past shop windows glowing with warm light, your boots scuffing against the concrete. the air smelled like roasted peanuts and exhaust, mixed with faint notes of someone’s cologne as they passed.
at 7:55, your stomach grumbled loud enough for giselle to hear.
“pizza?” she offered, already pulling out her phone to look up your usual spot.
“yes, please,” you laughed, rubbing your stomach. “let’s pick it up and go back to mine. i feel like my legs are gonna fall off.”
“deal. but you’re carrying the pizza,” she smirked.
you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t argue. it felt good to laugh again without anything weighing heavy in your chest. the door clicked softly behind giselle as she left, leaving the apartment feeling suddenly too quiet. the faint buzz of streetlights seeped through the windows, mixing with the lingering smell of coffee and cake pops from earlier. you sat on the couch, the fabric rough against your skin, trying to slow your breath. the weight of the day, the conversation with giselle, everything crowded your chest.
eric was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching you with a mix of concern and impatience. “why haven’t you called him yet?” his voice cut through the quiet, low but sharp.
you looked up, avoiding his gaze. “it’s not that simple,” you whispered, your voice barely steady.
“it’s been months, y/n.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “you’re making this way harder than it needs to be. just pick up the phone and call.”
your throat tightened. “you don’t understand. it’s not just about calling. it’s everything that happened — all the hurt. how do you just fix that with a phone call?”
eric stepped closer, frustration edging his tone. “you think i haven’t been through stuff? you think i don’t get it? but dragging this out won’t help you or anyone else.”
you swallowed hard, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your best effort. “it’s not about dragging it out. i’m scared. scared that if i call, i’ll lose whatever little control i have left.”
hanni sat quietly across the room, folding her hands in her lap. she didn’t speak until eric said, “this has gone on way too long. you need to stop avoiding it.”
her voice was calm but firm, “i think you should call him, y/n. for your own sake.”
you looked between them, feeling more alone than ever. the silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant sounds of cars passing and the hum of the city. the warmth of the matcha in your hands did nothing to thaw the chill inside.
finally, you whispered, “you don’t know what it’s like to carry this weight every day.”
eric’s eyes narrowed. “maybe not. but i know what it’s like to want to move on and not be stuck in the past.”
the room felt tight, air thick with tension. you hugged your knees closer, biting back a sob. “you make it sound so easy, like i’m just being difficult.”
he stepped closer, voice low but edged with something sharper now. “maybe you are. maybe you’re scared of moving forward, and you’re using him as an excuse.”
your heart pounded, anger flaring up to match the hurt. “i’m not scared of moving forward. i’m scared of losing myself.”
eric’s face hardened. “and what about us? what about what we could have if you just stopped holding on to this?”
“no,” you snapped. “don’t make this about us when you barely understand what i’m going through.”
he paused, jaw clenched, before saying quietly, “i’m just trying to be honest with you. but if you keep pushing me away because you’re too wrapped up in the past, then maybe i should stop trying.”
your breath hitched. the words hit harder than you expected. tears streamed freely now, but you held your ground, voice shaking. “maybe you should.”
the silence returned, heavier this time, filled with the echo of everything left unsaid. the silence lingered like thick fog, heavier than before. you sat across from him on the couch, shoulders pulled in like you were trying to fold into yourself. eric wasn’t even looking at you anymore. just staring at the wall, jaw tense, fingers twitching slightly like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to without making it worse.
hanni stood awkwardly near the kitchen island, her arms crossed tightly. “okay,” she muttered, “this is getting dumb.”
“this whole thing—whatever it is—it’s not gonna go anywhere if you keep talking to each other like that,” she said. “like… yelling doesn’t mean you care more. you’re both pissed off and don’t know what to do with it.”
“well, yeah,” you muttered, voice flat. “that’s kind of the whole problem.”
eric finally exhaled. loud. “can we not do this right now?”
“you mean the fighting?” you asked, sharp but tired.
he looked at you this time, and his voice came out quieter. “no. i mean… can we not pretend we hate each other?”
you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “i don’t hate you.”
hanni slowly backed out toward the hallway. “i’ll give you two a minute. but don’t kill each other.”
the door clicked shut behind her, and the weight of her absence filled the room. you stared at the floor. you could still feel the slight tremble in your fingertips. you hated crying in front of people. hated even more that he saw you like that.
“yeah… sorry,” eric muttered. “let’s move on. we can do this without yelling.”
you didn’t say anything else. he didn’t either. just this quiet hum of tension that didn’t leave but also didn’t grow. a mutual ceasefire.
he leaned his head back against the couch, eyes on the ceiling now. “i still love you.”
your heart stuttered a bit.
you swallowed again. “i know. i love you too.”
but it didn’t feel soft this time. it felt like fact. not comfort. like something true that had been through the wringer and came out wrinkled and bruised but still intact.
you leaned back too, a few inches away from him, letting the space stay there.
neither of you said it, but both of you felt it: there was a wall between you now. thinner than before. but still a wall.
and even if no one was yelling anymore, it didn’t mean everything was okay.
not yet. absolutely. here’s a longer, intense, back-and-forth breakup call with heavy emotion, more raw dialogue, and that defensive, no-apologies vibe you want — about 16 paragraphs:
“hello?” wonbin’s voice was low, tired, like he’d been waiting for this but didn’t want it.
“hey,” you said, voice tight. “we need to talk.”
“okay.” he sounded guarded, cautious. “what’s going on?”
you swallowed the lump in your throat, steadying yourself. “i’m done, wonbin. done with us.”
“done? what do you mean ‘done’?” his voice cracked slightly, disbelief hanging there.
you hesitated, then cut through the noise. “i can’t keep doing this. pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. pretending you care like you used to.”
“that’s not true,” he said quickly, like he was trying to convince himself.
“isn’t it?” your voice was sharp, almost bitter. “because from where i’m standing, you’ve been checked out for months.”
“you’re overreacting.” he sighed. “we’ve had problems, yeah, but it’s always like this. it’s not the end.”
“it is for me.” you took a shaky breath. “i’m tired of hoping you’ll change, tired of being the only one who’s trying.”
“y/n, you don’t understand. i’ve been dealing with a lot.”
“and i’m supposed to wait while you disappear? while i’m left with nothing but silence and excuses?” your voice cracked. “that’s not love.”
“i never said it wasn’t love.” his voice softened, but you could hear the pain.
“then show it. don’t just say it when it’s convenient.” you bit your lip to keep from crying. “i’m not your backup plan, wonbin. not anymore.”
“please, don’t do this. we can fix it. we can work through it.”
“no.” you shook your head even though he couldn’t see. “we can’t. not if you don’t even want to try.”
“i want to try, y/n.” desperation crept in. “i’m scared, okay? scared i’ll lose you.”
“you lost me the moment you stopped showing up.” your voice was quiet now, but fierce. “i’m not waiting in the dark anymore.”
“so this is goodbye?” he whispered, breaking.
“yeah.” you said, voice steady but heavy. “goodbye.”
there was silence, thick and suffocating, before he finally said, “i’m sorry it ended like this.”
“im not,” you said, almost a whisper. “but it had to.”
and then the line went dead, leaving you with the echo of everything you were finally letting go.
for the first time in months, it felt like you could finally breathe. your lungs expanded. no tension in your shoulders. no tight grip in your chest. no wonbin hovering over your peace like a shadow that wouldn’t leave. just silence. stillness.
you stood up from the couch, dazed but light. giselle had fallen asleep at the kitchen island an hour ago, half her makeup wiped off with the back of her sleeve. hanni was curled up under a throw blanket, breathing soft, tv screen paused on some old rewatch episode. eric had gone quiet too — just sat on the floor for a while after the call, then said, “good job,” before disappearing into your room.
you stood there in the living room, letting your fingers brush the corner of the wall as you walked past it. everything looked different. not like a new apartment, but like it was finally yours again. like no part of it had to be hidden for anyone else. no part of you had to be softer, smaller.
your phone buzzed on the counter. but this time, it wasn’t his name.
just junk mail. you smiled.
you poured a glass of water, sipped slowly. the ache in your chest had been replaced with something warm. soft. like starting over. like clean sheets and open windows.
you stood there, looking out at the new york skyline, cheeks still damp from crying — but not from sadness anymore.
relief, maybe. or closure.
and suddenly everything was darker. the kitchen lights gone. the apartment quieter than quiet. your body felt heavier. the soft warmth was replaced by an odd stillness. your eyes opened fully now — and you were in bed.
your breath caught in your throat.
you scrambled to grab your phone. it was 3:18am. no call history. no missed calls. no “good job” from eric. no “i’m proud of you” from anyone.
the breakup hadn’t happened.
wonbin’s contact still sat at the top of your favorites.
you stared at the screen, hand trembling, as the tears that hadn’t come earlier began to slip down your cheeks — hot and silent.
because now you’d have to do it all over again.
for real this time and it wouldn’t be easy. not at all. sure! here’s a modified version with more detail, lowercase, sensory cues, and a realistic tone:
but maybe when you were walking to your room after the light banter with eric, you only made it halfway down the hall. the weight in your chest reminded you that it was too late—midnight, really—to randomly call and break up with someone. even if it should’ve ended months ago, it still felt a little wrong doing it while the city was that quiet. so you waited. a few hours, just enough for the sun to start bleeding through the blinds.
hanni leaned against the counter in her hoodie, hair tied up in a half-effort bun, sipping coffee like it was her only fuel. she glanced between you and eric, her tone soft but laced with curiosity. “are you two still mad at each other…? did you even sleep in the same bed?”
eric scoffed lightly as he reached for a glass. “what kind of question is that. duh.” he didn’t even look up, but there was a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth.
you smirked, a little sleep still lingering in your voice. “we were fine after. just needed to cool off, that’s all.” you glanced at him for a second before turning back to your phone, the screen still dark.
hanni looked like she wanted to ask more, but she didn’t. just nodded.
you pushed your hair behind your ear and muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else, “yeah. i’m ending this today. i’m tired of it. honestly, it was about time.”
eric looked over from the sink, eyes scanning your expression carefully like he wanted to say something. but he didn’t. not yet. you could tell he was trying to trust you on this. let you handle it your own way. and that meant everything.
you didn’t hesitate when the clock hit 10. didn’t second guess it. didn’t care if he was busy. you were calling to end it — not to talk. not to check in. not to be soft.
he picked up, slow and groggy. “…hello?”
you didn’t waste a breath. “i’m not calling to talk to you.”
his voice sharpened. “then why the fuck are you calling?”
“to end this. for real this time.”
a pause. then laughter. it wasn’t amused — just disbelieving. “you’re joking.”
“do i sound like i’m joking?”
“so you’re breaking up with me. just like that.”
“yeah. just like that. what, you wanted a fucking slideshow?”
he scoffed. “you’re so funny wow.”
“don’t start,” you bit. “you made me beg for bare minimum and now you’re mad i stopped begging?”
“you’re acting brand new right now.”
you rolled your eyes. “no. i’m acting like someone who finally got a grip.”
he barked out a bitter laugh. “a grip? you’re delusional if you think this is gonna make you feel better.”
“you think this is for me to feel better?” you snapped. “this is me reclaiming my fucking sanity. this is me choosing peace.”
“god, you love saying that. it’s your favorite line, isn’t it? every time i called you out, every time i cried — ‘you’re being dramatic.’ noooo. you were just too much of a bitch to admit you were the problem.”
he snapped back, voice sharp. “you were impossible to deal with!”
“and you were manipulative as fuck,” you threw. “don’t sit there and act innocent. you knew exactly what you were doing every time you said, ‘it’s not that deep.’ every time you pretended you didn’t know why i was upset.”
“you think i was trying to hurt you?”
“i know you were. or at least you didn’t care if you did.”
he went silent for a beat. “wow. so that’s how you see me now?”
“that’s how you always were,” you said. “i just see it clearly now.”
“you used to tell me i made you feel safe.”
“you used to act like you deserved me,” you hissed. “turns out, we were both lying.”
his voice cracked. “you’re actually being cruel.”
“and you were spineless. pick your poison.”
he exhaled sharply. “you’ve changed.”
“no, i just stopped shrinking myself so you’d feel bigger.”
“i am bitter. i gave you everything and you gave me anxiety.”
“you always said we’d make it through anything.”
“well guess what? i lied.”
he choked out a laugh. “you’re unreal.”
“and you’re just a really good actor. fooled everyone into thinking you were the perfect boyfriend. too bad i was the only one who saw what was behind the performance.”
“you loved that version of me.”
“i loved who i thought you were,” you snapped. “turns out, i was in love with an idea. not the guy who made me feel small for having feelings.”
“you’re acting like you were perfect.”
“never said i was. but at least i fucking showed up.”
you took a breath, voice low. steady. “i’m done begging you to understand me. i’m done trying to fix something that was never solid to begin with.”
“and you think whoever you’re with now is gonna treat you better?”
you smiled. sharp. “he already does.”
he went quiet again. not even breathing.
“bye, wonbin,” you said flatly. “don’t call. don’t text. just disappear like you always do when things get hard.”
you hung up before he could reply.
and this time, you didn’t feel guilt. or fear. or sadness. just a deep, quiet relief.
hanni peeked into the room, eyes wide. “you okay?”
you nodded. “better than ever.”
eric glanced up from the couch. “you done?”
“finally.” you exhaled. “and i’m not taking any of that back.”
you ran to eric, practically throwing yourself into his arms like a weight you’d been carrying for months was finally lifting. your lips met his, hungry and relieved, a breathless kiss that said everything you hadn’t been able to put into words. eric held you steady, his hands warm on your back, grounding you in the moment like the world had finally made sense again.
hanni stood a few steps away, arms crossed, eyes wide as if she’d just walked into the middle of a movie she didn’t expect to see. after a beat, she threw her hands up with a dramatic sigh. “hello?? i’ve been here since day one dealing with your wonbin drama, listening to your endless rants and late-night cries—and i get nothing? no cute texts, no ‘thank you for surviving this with me’ speech? nada?” her voice was half teasing, half frustrated, but there was love there too. she always had your back, even when you didn’t realize you needed it.
you pulled back from eric just enough to look at hanni, laughing through the tears still lingering in your eyes. “yeah, well, i was busy actually living through it, not writing a damn memoir about it,” you shot back with a playful smirk. “but seriously, you both have no idea how much better i feel. like, this weight just lifted and i’m finally breathing again.”
eric smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “you deserve all the happiness, and then some. no more toxic bullshit, just you and me figuring things out.” his voice was soft but sure, a promise you wanted to believe with everything in you.
hanni nodded, grinning now. “see? progress! and if you need a wingwoman or a therapist, i’m still here.”
you felt warmth spread through your chest—a perfect, steady kind of happiness. you didn’t have to battle with mental issues, nor missing phone calls.
