Three days passed without a single message.
Three nights without a call.

Joss’s phone stayed silent. Empty.

The last text from Gawin was just two short lines:
“Don’t look for me. I’ll come back if I still feel I belong to you.”

Joss sat alone in the dark room, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, feeling a cold emptiness he had never known in this house before.

He opened Instagram, scrolling through old photos, bright smiles, moments of Gawin dozing off on the couch, cradling the little cat.

Those pictures no longer felt sweet.
They felt like knives cutting straight through his heart.

On the third night, Joss dreamed.

In the dream, Gawin stepped out of the bathroom, hair wet, eyes glazed and sleepy.
“Do you still think of me?”
Joss nodded.

“Then why did you let me go?”

Gawin sat on Joss’s lap, like before everything started to crack.
But this time, when Joss reached out to touch him, Gawin vanished like smoke in the wind.

Joss woke up in the middle of the night, chest tight as if something heavy was pressing down.

He wondered:
Where had he gone wrong?
Was it because he was too strong?
Too blunt with his words?
Or maybe... he hadn’t been safe enough to keep Gawin by his side?

The next afternoon, Joss stood in front of Beam’s old apartment.

Not to see him, but just to… check if Gawin was there.

Beam opened the door, eyes sharp and cold:
“He’s not here. But if I were you, I wouldn’t wait too long.”

Joss looked at Beam for a long moment before softly replying,
“Thanks for not messing this up.”

Beam smiled faintly.
“I just want to see... who really has what it takes to hold onto the one they love.”

That night, Joss packed his bag.

He didn’t know where Gawin was.
But he knew well, if he didn’t go, the thread between them would break.

On the table, he left a note:
“I won’t use my body to hold you anymore. If you need someone not just to lie beside, but to walk with, look out your balcony at 9 PM tomorrow. I’ll be there. If you don’t show up... I’ll learn to let go. For real.”

At exactly 9 PM the next evening, rain poured down.

Joss stood beneath Gawin’s old balcony, soaked through, freezing, heart pounding.

The lights on the third floor flicked on, curtains gently fluttered.

A shadow appeared.

Gawin.

No smile. No tears. Just silently looking down at Joss, as if asking,
“How long will you stand there?”

Joss whispered, knowing Gawin couldn’t hear:
“Until you come back. Or until my heart stops loving you.”

@nopbyy Vietnam 🇻🇳