It was after school.
The halls had emptied. The sky outside was already turning that dusky shade between violet and ash.
Ji-Woo stood by the lockers, hands tucked in his coat sleeves, staring at nothing in particular.
He wasn't waiting.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Until Min-Ho appeared.
He didn't say anything. He just walked up and stood beside him, their shoulders barely touching — or maybe they were, just enough to notice.
They stood in silence.
Then, as if pulled by some quiet gravity, Ji-Woo looked at him.
Min-Ho was already looking back.
A second passed.
Then another.
One second too long.
Something shifted in the space between them — a breath, a heartbeat, a longing too loud to stay quiet.
Ji-Woo opened his mouth to say something.
But the words tangled in his throat, caught in the ache he'd buried for too long.
Min-Ho didn't move. His eyes searched Ji-Woo's face like he was memorizing every detail — the tiredness under his lashes, the softness of his lips, the slight tremble in his jaw.
Ji-Woo finally whispered:
"…Do you ever think about it?"
Min-Ho didn't ask what "it" was.
He just nodded.
"All the time."
Ji-Woo looked away. "It hurts."
"I know," Min-Ho said. "Me too."
Another silence.
But it wasn't empty.
It was full of the kiss that didn't happen. The hug not given. The apology too late.
Everything that hovered between them — invisible, burning.
Ji-Woo turned and walked away, coat swaying gently behind him.
Min-Ho didn't stop him.
But he didn't leave either.
He just stood there, breathing in the space Ji-Woo had just occupied, his chest aching with everything they couldn't say.
One second too long…
And it could've changed everything.