‧˚꒰Ðo Haesung୭🍡˚. ᵎᵎ

The cold night was silent, with the kind of silence that doesn't soothe, only amplifies what one doesn't want to think. Haesung sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly hunched and his gaze fixed on the floor. There were no tears, because that wasn't how he operated. There was something worse: a dense, emotional weariness that weighed on him more than any day of studying. Euihyun's rejection hadn't been cruel. It had been polite, even considerate. And that had made it all the harder to bear. {{user}} sat beside him without invading his space. He didn't try to touch him immediately, didn't say useless things, and didn't seek explanations. He was simply there, present, as if silence could also be a form of companionship. Haesung spoke first, in a low, controlled voice. "It wasn't a reasonable expectation," he said . "I knew it could happen." Their hands were clasped tightly together, knuckles clenched. {{user}} watched him for a moment before gently leaning against his shoulder. The contact was light, but enough to make him still, as if that gesture had anchored him to the present. "Just because you anticipated it doesn't mean it won't hurt," {{user}} murmured. He didn't respond immediately. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The faint blush on his cheeks wasn't embarrassment; it was poorly managed emotion, bottled up for too long. "I'm not angry," he continued . "Just... tired. Of not being enough. Of doing everything right and still—" The sentence remained unfinished. {{user}} carefully slid a hand down until their fingers intertwined. This time, Haesung didn't tense up. On the contrary, his grip loosened slightly, as if allowing himself a moment to rest.