Every moment with Joon-seo felt like something quietly magical. Nothing loud, nothing dramatic—just gentle closeness. Our eyes found each other in crowded hallways, our conversations stretched longer than they needed to, and silence between us never felt awkward. We were growing closer, naturally. Effortlessly.
But then… something started to change.
Not overnight. Not with a fight or a misunderstanding. Just slowly, like watching sunlight fade into dusk. His voice, once warm and full of teasing, grew softer—harder to reach. His presence lingered, but the attention didn't. He'd still show up beside me in class or brush past me in the hall, but there was a second's delay in his smile. A pause too long before he laughed.
I asked him once if something was wrong. He only said he was busy.
Assignments, group work, stress. "It's nothing," he added, with a small smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.
Min-ah was her usual self—chatty, playful, always with a clever remark on the tip of her tongue. But I started to notice something... off. Not all at once, just in pieces.
It always happened when I brought up Joon-seo.
Before, she'd nudge me with her elbow, laugh, tease me until I turned red. But lately? Nothing. No comments. No smirks. Just a quiet nod, or a quick change of topic. At first, I thought maybe she was tired, distracted. But the pattern kept repeating. Every time his name slipped into our conversations, the light in her eyes dimmed just a little.
I wanted to ask her about it—why she'd gone silent. Why something that once made her laugh now made her look away.
But I didn't.
I didn't want to seem paranoid.
Didn't want to believe there was something to be paranoid about.
Then, during one of our usual café meet-ups, Min-ah stirred her drink absentmindedly and said, almost as a side note, "Oh, by the way—Joon-seo stopped by yesterday. We ended up hanging out for a while."
I looked up from my cup. "Oh? Was it for the group project?"
She shook her head. "No, just random stuff. He said he was feeling kind of overwhelmed, needed a break. We talked for a bit."
I nodded slowly, absorbing it. "Is that the first time?"
Min-ah hesitated for half a second, then gave a little shrug. "Not really. He drops by sometimes. We talk when he's around. Nothing major."
I smiled faintly, trying not to overthink it. It wasn't strange for friends to talk. Still, I couldn't help the quiet ripple of surprise—this was the first I'd heard of it.
"And once," she added casually, "we stayed at the library together for hours. We weren't even studying properly—just talking."
She said it like it didn't matter. Like it was just another ordinary thing.
But for some reason, it didn't feel ordinary to me.
It wasn't that I felt left out.
Just… unaware. Like something had shifted slightly when I wasn't looking.
Something I didn't notice until it was already happening.
I kept the conversation going, smiling when I needed to, nodding when I should. But a quiet thought lingered at the back of my mind—
*Since when did they talk like that?*
*And why didn't I know?*
After that, I started seeing them together more. A lot more.
At first, it felt random—quick chats between classes or laughing over something on his phone. But soon, they were always walking together, sitting side by side, sharing looks I couldn't read.
I still spent time with Joon-seo. We'd sit together, sometimes talk between lectures, even hang out like before. But it wasn't the same.
He didn't tease me anymore. His warmth had faded, replaced with silence—or worse, quiet remarks that felt a little too sharp to ignore.
"You're always overthinking," he said once, when I asked if something was wrong.
I smiled like it didn't sting. Like I wasn't noticing how far he'd drifted.
Maybe they were just good friends. That's what I kept telling myself.
But it didn't feel like just friendship—not when he laughed with her in ways he no longer did with me. Not when he only looked at me when she wasn't around.
I wasn't jealous. Just… confused. Hurt. Like I was slowly being written out of a story I thought I was part of.
And no matter how much I tried to act normal, my gut told me: something had changed.
Later that day, I found him alone in the corridor, leaning against the window. Hands in his pockets, eyes on something far away. The sunlight hit just right, catching the soft curls of his hair and casting a golden glow around him. He looked lost. Not just in thought—but truly, deeply lost.
I hesitated, then slowly walked up to him.
"Hey," I said gently.
He didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the world outside.
I reached out and tapped his shoulder. "Joon-seo… are you trying to avoid me?"
He blinked and finally turned to me. "Me? Why would I?"
But his voice was sharp. Cold. Like my question had cut too close.
I swallowed hard. "Can I ask you something?"
He looked at me then, expression unreadable. "Sure."
I took a breath. "Do you… like Min-ah?"
It felt heavy just saying it. I wasn't accusing him—I just needed to know. If he did like her, I would walk away. No drama. No begging.
As much as it would hurt, I'd let him go— For him. For Min-ah. For the sake of whatever they were becoming.
I didn't want to be in the way. I didn't want to be the obstacle between two people who had already chosen each other.
He stared at me, stunned. "What?" he said, his voice quieter now.
"You've been spending a lot of time with her. And lately, you've been…"
Ihesitated, eyes searching his face. "Different."
His expression changed. His brows furrowed, and he let out this soft, bitter little laugh.
"No, Eun-ha. I don't like Min-ah."
His words were calm, but his eyes looked… tired. Like something inside him was wearing thin.
I watched him, unsure. *That's it? That's all he's going to say?*
I needed more. Something real. Something that would make all the confusion disappear.
As if he read my mind, he suddenly reached out and flicked my forehead.
"Stop overthinking with that tiny brain of yours," he teased.
"Hey!" I swatted his hand away, laughing in spite of myself. "I was just worried about you."
I let out a slow breath. "Can we hang out like we used to? I… I miss you."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. Really smiled.
"Of course," he said.
For a day or two, things felt okay again. We talked like we used to—about school, dumb things, little nothings that somehow meant everything. Our rhythm returned.
But it didn't last.
A few days later, something shifted again.
He wasn't warm—not really.
Just… tolerable.
He still walked beside me, still asked how my day was sometimes, but his tone had changed.
His eyes didn't light up the way they used to.
His replies felt obligatory—like he was checking a box, not starting a conversation.
When I joked, he barely smiled.
When I stumbled over my words, he didn't tease me like before.
Sometimes, he even sighed. Subtle, but loud enough to sting.
It felt like he was putting up with me.
Not because he cared, but because he didn't know how to pull away completely.
Or maybe… he just didn't want to be the bad guy.
Because he knew.
He knew how I felt when I saw him with Min-ah.
He could see it in my face, in the way I grew quiet whenever her name came up.
And yet, he never stopped.
He didn't tell me he liked her.
He didn't tell me he didn't like me.
He just said nothing—and that silence spoke the loudest.
Then came the colder days.
He wouldn't even look at me sometimes.
His replies were clipped, like I was bothering him.
He'd leave before I could say goodbye.
And the worst part?
It only ever happened when Min-ah was around.
The moment she appeared, everything in him hardened.
His voice, his posture, his attention—it all turned away from me.
Like I'd been replaced without warning.
Like I no longer fit into the version of his world he was choosing.
And I stood there, trying to smile through the ache.
Pretending I didn't feel like I was slowly disappearing.