2

The sun streamed mercilessly through the curtains, slicing through the dim haze of the room. Wonwoo blinked awake, his head pounding, the events of the night before hitting him like a freight train.

Mingyu’s arm was draped possessively around his waist, his face relaxed in sleep, free of its usual cocky grin. For a moment, Wonwoo allowed himself to linger, to savor the rare sight. But reality soon crept in, heavy and suffocating. What had he done?

This wasn’t what he wanted, not like this, not tangled in alcohol and desperation. Mingyu doesn’t love you, Wonwoo. He was drunk. It was a mistake.

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Wonwoo carefully slid out from under Mingyu’s arm. He dressed quickly, each movement deliberate and silent, his heart cracking with every button and buckle. He glanced back at Mingyu one last time, his chest tightening at how peaceful Mingyu looked.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo whispered under his breath before slipping out the door.

Mingyu woke up to an empty bed, the sheets cold where Wonwoo should have been. Panic flared in his chest as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

“Wonwoo?” he called out, his voice hoarse.

No answer.

His heart sank. The apartment was silent, too silent. Wonwoo was gone.

The memories of the night before flooded his mind. Wonwoo’s confession, the kiss, their bodies tangled together. It had felt real, raw, like something he didn’t know he was missing until it was right there in front of him. But now… now it felt like a cruel joke.

Mingyu buried his face in his hands, a hollow ache settling in his chest. What the hell did I do?

Days turned into weeks, and Mingyu couldn’t shake the emptiness that Wonwoo’s absence left behind. At first, he told himself it was just the awkwardness, the fallout of something that shouldn’t have happened. But as the silence stretched on, Mingyu began to realize that something was deeply, terribly wrong.

He missed Wonwoo. Not just his presence, but him. His steady voice, his quiet strength, the way his eyes always seemed to see right through Mingyu’s bravado. No one else ever made him feel so… seen.

He tried to move on, to drown himself in the attention of others like he always had. But every laugh sounded hollow, every touch felt wrong.

It wasn’t until one lonely night, surrounded by empty bottles and a silent apartment, that it hit him like a punch to the gut.

He loved Wonwoo.

He had been too blind, too scared to see it, but it had always been there, hidden beneath years of friendship, masked by distractions and meaningless flings. Wonwoo was his constant, his anchor, his everything. And he had driven him away.

Mingyu tore through the city, chasing every lead, every sliver of hope. He called Wonwoo’s friends, his family, even went to their old haunts, but it was like Wonwoo had vanished.

Months turned into a year, then two, but Mingyu refused to give up. He combed through social media, scanned through crowds, haunted every corner of the city where he thought Wonwoo might be. But the man who had always been by his side was now nowhere to be found.

“Where are you, Wonwoo?” Mingyu whispered to himself one summer day as he wandered aimlessly through a park, exhaustion etched into his features.

And then he saw him.