୨୧ : Jisung

You were sick of him, or at least you wanted to be. He was trying to tell you something, something he'd already told you a while back. You got a call in the middle of the night; you weren't surprised to see it was from Han. He'd gone to a party, gotten drunk, was too drunk to drive, and the first person he thought of to ask for help was you.

Reluctantly, you had to go find him from the noisy party that was already winding down. Now he was sitting in the passenger seat, his brow slightly furrowed, his head spinning.

"Because love can burn like a cigarette," the radio played, floating in the silence between you two. He shifted in his seat, moving slightly closer to you, humming the song somewhat off-key.

"Can I stay at your place tonight? I didn't bring my keys." She asked with a dry, embarrassed laugh, running a hand through her hair. You thought about it for a few seconds and agreed.

Near the end of the song, you had already stopped the car outside your house. Before Han could open the door and even try to put one foot in front of the other, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, planting a kiss on his cold, still hesitant cheek.