As they made their way back home, Min-jun slipped into the seat beside Seung-joon without a moment's hesitation. Any lingering concern over how it might look to others had long since faded, overshadowed by a deeper, gnawing worry he couldn't shake.
The memory of the night before clung to him, heavy and unrelenting. He was desperate to talk about it, to ask, to understand — but he had already made the decision to stay silent.
Seung-joon showed no signs of remembering the nightmare. He chatted quietly about school and club activities, his expression as calm and composed as ever, and Min-jun found himself trapped by uncertainty.
He wasn't sure how to bring it up — or if he even should.
***
As the morning sun crept through the thin curtains, its soft light cast a warm glow across the room — but to Min-jun, it only made Seung-joon's pallor more painfully obvious.
The brightness of the new day clashed sharply with the tired, worn look on Seung-joon's face, and a heavy sense of helplessness gripped Min-jun's chest.
Keeping his voice steady and calm, he gently suggested that Seung-joon take some medicine, disguising the deep concern gnawing at his heart. He reasoned softly that it was probably just exhaustion from their chilly walk the night before.
But Seung-joon only shook his head with a faint, reassuring smile, insisting he didn't need it.
Min-jun nodded, outwardly respecting his wishes — but inside, worry churned endlessly. No matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't shake the anxious knot tightening in his chest, the growing fear that Seung-joon was hiding something more than just simple fatigue.
It left Min-jun feeling restless, uneasy.
"Joon-ah, drink this," Min-jun murmured gently, pressing a steaming paper cup into Seung-joon's hands as he carefully took the files away from him.
"Hyung, you should go and play with the others. I can finish this on my own," Seung-joon protested softly, reaching out to reclaim the files.
But Min-jun shook his head firmly. "It's fine. I'll stay with you. I'm not really in the mood for playing right now."
They walked side by side in quiet companionship, the soft crunch of their footsteps on the ground the only sound between them. Seung-joon took small, absentminded sips from the drink, his gaze distant, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Min-jun's worry only deepened as he watched him. The color had drained from Seung-joon's face, leaving him looking so fragile, so breakable, that Min-jun's heart clenched tighter with each passing second.
He shouldn't be out here in this weather, Min-jun thought, a growing unease gnawing at him.
After setting the files down on a nearby table, he swiftly shrugged off his jacket and gently draped it over Seung-joon's shoulders as they made their way back toward the beach to collect the remaining items.
"Hyung, I'm not cold," Seung-joon protested quietly, attempting to slip the jacket off and return it.
But Min-jun gently pushed it back onto him, his touch firm yet careful.
"It's still chilly," Min-jun said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Just keep it on."
Seung-joon hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes. "But what about you?"
Min-jun smiled faintly, the warmth in his gaze softening the sharpness of the evening air.
"I don't get cold easily," he said, brushing off the concern as he walked a little ahead, casting a glance back to make sure Seung-joon was bundled up properly.
In the end, Seung-joon allowed Min-jun to fuss over him, quietly accepting his attentions, sensing the deep sincerity behind Min-jun's concern.
Throughout the day, Min-jun stayed close, finding every excuse to remain by Seung-joon's side. He helped with small tasks, subtly easing the burden from Seung-joon's shoulders without making a show of it — a quiet devotion woven into every gesture.
When they finally settled into their seats on the bus, Min-jun's gaze kept drifting toward Seung-joon, unable to hide the lingering worry in his eyes. Relief slowly unfurled in his chest as he noticed a subtle flush returning to Seung-joon's cheeks — a small, hopeful sign of recovery.
Still, Min-jun's heart ached with a silent, tender longing as he watched him. His eyes lingered on Seung-joon's small face, his slender hands resting quietly in his lap. He ached to reach out and hold them again — to feel their warmth, to reassure himself that Seung-joon was truly there, safe and breathing beside him.
The memory of holding Seung-joon's trembling hand the night before burned fresh in his mind, a fragile, precious weight that only deepened the yearning he kept locked tightly inside.
At first, Min-jun had seen being close to Seung-joon as a rare blessing — a precious chance to quietly cherish his presence. But now, it felt more like a curse.
The intimate knowledge he had gained — the memory of Seung-joon's warmth against him, the softness of his touch, the faint comforting scent that clung to his clothes, the fragile way he carried himself — only deepened Min-jun's anguish.
Each detail, once a source of pure, innocent joy, now stung like a painful reminder of the bittersweet distance that still separated them — a distance no closeness could seem to bridge.
In the face of his raw, genuine longing to protect and care for Seung-joon, Min-jun realized that whatever he had thought he felt before — all the sweet daydreams and stolen glances — had been nothing more than a shallow infatuation.
"Is this what they mean by fate?" Min-jun wondered, his heart heavy with the thought. One touch — that was all it had taken to change everything.
He thought back to the very first time they had met, to the way Seung-joon's touch felt, stirring something deep inside him — something he hadn't anticipated, something he couldn't name at the time.
Throughout the trip, every accidental touch, every brief brush of Seung-joon's fingers against his skin had felt like it was reshaping his entire world, thread by invisible thread.
There's no way back now, Min-jun realized. Whether I like it or not, I'll have to walk this path to the end.
He glanced at Seung-joon from the corner of his eye, a quiet ache blooming in his chest.
Joon-ah, where will you choose to go? he wondered silently. Will you still be within reach, or will you drift away?
"Home."
Seung-joon's sudden exclamation jolted Min-jun so badly he nearly jumped out of his seat. His heart hammered against his ribs as he blinked at Seung-joon, startled.
Seung-joon looked back at him with innocent confusion, completely unaware of the silent storm he had just interrupted.
As Seung-joon pointed toward a mountain in the distance, Min-jun shifted his gaze out the window, following his hand.
"Hyung, do you see that pale blue house?" Seung-joon said, his voice soft, almost reflective. "That's my home."
Min-jun's eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, he could only stare, momentarily speechless.
He recognized the area — the pale blue house sat just around the corner from the gym he visited regularly. The realization left him dumbfounded, a strange, unexpected twist of fate tightening around his heart.
All this time... he was so close, Min-jun thought, a rush of emotions swelling in his chest, too tangled to unravel.
"I'm getting off at the next stop. Are you heading back to school, hyung?" Seung-joon asked as he adjusted his backpack, preparing to leave.
Min-jun was caught off guard, his thoughts momentarily scattering like leaves in the wind. It took him a few seconds to fully process Seung-joon's words — and when he did, a faint sinking feeling pulled at his heart.
Somehow, without even realizing it, he had expected Seung-joon to stay with him all the way back to school. The realization that their time together was ending so soon left a hollow ache in his chest, a quiet, unexpected loneliness settling in even before Seung-joon stood to leave.
"What...? Oh, yes... I'm heading back to school," Min-jun murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Seung-joon's gaze met his, and for a heartbeat, Min-jun forgot how to breathe. The sunlight, striking Seung-joon's eyes at just the right angle, turned them a mesmerizing shade of blue — clear and deep, like the heart of a serene ocean.
For a fleeting moment, the world around them seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of them suspended in a fragile, perfect stillness. Min-jun felt himself drifting, as if drawn deeper and deeper into those endless depths.
But reality snapped back into place when Seung-joon stood up, breaking the spell. Min-jun instinctively shifted to make space, though his heart screamed for the moment to last just a little longer.
As Seung-joon steadied himself, his fingers brushed lightly against Min-jun's hand — a brief, electrifying touch that sent a jolt straight to Min-jun's heart.
As the bus slowed to a stop.
With a small, final wave, Seung-joon exited the bus, leaving Min-jun sitting there, a bittersweet ache blooming in his chest, the ghost of that fleeting touch lingering against his skin.
Min-jun's gaze drifted toward the bus stop, where two figures stood waiting.
He immediately recognized one of them — Seung-joon's quiet school friend — but the other figure had his back turned to the bus, his face hidden from view.
As Seung-joon waved at Min-jun while stepping off, the second figure turned — and for a moment, Min-jun's breath caught painfully in his throat.
The face staring back at him was almost identical to the first.
His heart stuttered in shock, his mind scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing. It took a few beats before the realization clicked into place — the resemblance was no coincidence.
Twins.
What in the world... Hwang twins!
Taejon and Taemin.