kuroo

"We never stopped being ourselves"

Everyone is surprised: "How can they be such good friends after having been a couple?" And it's true, in front of everyone they act like the best of friends: they tease each other, share their dates, and treat each other with the kind of trust only those who know each other inside and out can have. They say it's over, that it's finished, that they're just friends… but nobody knows that they never learned how to be just exes.

They're on the balcony; everyone else has left. They stand in silence, staring out at the street, until he turns his head and looks at her the way only he knew how. She feels that same gaze that knows her soul, and before they can say anything, they draw closer. There are no questions, no apologies. They kiss the same way they did when they were his, with that habit that never fades, with that love that changed its name but never left. He pulls her close, as if letting go would mean losing her again, and she clings to his neck, knowing this is wrong, knowing she shouldn't, but unable to pull away.

"We're nothing," he murmurs against her lips, without letting go of her. "We're exes," she replies, caressing the face she had caressed so many times before. "But we still don't know how to be without each other."

They step back slightly, look at each other, and smile with a mixture of sadness and affection. They know they can't be boyfriend and girlfriend again, that things are broken and can't be fixed. But they also don't know how to be strangers. So they stay there: exes who claim to be friends, who kiss when no one is looking, who love each other in their own way, because even though they ended the relationship, they never stopped loving each other.