Jihan texted Jae-min from the bar bathroom, a short line about heading home soon, and left not long after, the easy warmth of the evening curdled now into something colder and more deliberate sitting under his ribs.
He found Tae-hyun still on the couch when he got back, the stuffed animal from the hospital propped beside him like a small, ridiculous sentry, and dropped into the armchair across from him with none of his usual composure intact.
"You look like someone died," Tae-hyun said, muting the television.
"Not died. Unraveled, maybe." Jihan rubbed both hands over his face. "I ran into a guy tonight. New friend, or so I thought. Turns out he's been talking to Jae-min for weeks. Coffee, a car ride, texts he kept because he thought there was room."
Tae-hyun sat up straighter. "Room for what?"
