the air was crisp that morning, cooler than seonghwa expected for spring. he stood outside the little bookstore tucked between two coffee shops in the financial district, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

he was early. too early. the store would not open for another fifteen minutes, but he did not care. he could not sleep anyway. not after everything yeosang had told him last night, not after the way his chest had squeezed watching everyone dance together while he stood off to the side, wishing things were different.

he checked his phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. no notifications. no texts. not from hongjoong. not from anyone.

the nerves settled deeper into his stomach the longer he waited, twisting themselves into knots. part of him wondered if this was stupid, if he was setting himself up to get hurt all over again.

what if hongjoong did not show? or worse... what if he did, and he did not want to see him? what if he just walked past, pretending not to notice him?

seonghwa sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, letting the early morning breeze brush against his skin. no, he would not let himself spiral. not now. not when he was already here.

a soft click echoed from the door as the shop owner arrived, keys jingling as she unlocked it and flipped the 'closed' sign to 'open.' she smiled politely at seonghwa as she pulled the door open.

"morning."

"good morning," he replied softly, stepping inside as soon as she let him.

the smell hit him instantly; that warm, familiar scent of old paper and fresh coffee, wood shelves and something sweet he could never quite place. it was quiet inside. soft music played faintly from somewhere near the register, and the morning light filtered in through the tall front windows, casting stripes of gold across the rows of books.

seonghwa tucked his hands into his pockets, wandering aimlessly through the aisles. he was not really looking at anything, not bothering to read any of the titles. his eyes just scanned, drifting over book spines while his ears stayed sharp, tuned to the sound of the bell over the door.

but it did not ring.

not yet.

he wandered toward the back, pretending to look at a shelf of travel books. then circled back to fiction. then poetry. twenty minutes passed. then thirty. he checked his phone again. no messages.

he sighed, letting his fingers trail over the worn covers in front of him. maybe he was not coming today. maybe yeosang had gotten it wrong. maybe this was just wishful thinking.

he sat down on one of the little leather benches tucked between shelves, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. the longer he sat there, the more he started convincing himself he should leave. this was stupid. he was stupid for thinking this would work.

but then, the soft chime of the door.

seonghwa's head snapped up. his heart lurched so hard it almost hurt. he stood quickly, half-hiding behind the shelf, just watching.

and there he was.

hongjoong.

same as ever, but also different. his hair was longer than the last time seonghwa had seen him, pushed back beneath a gray beanie. an oversized denim jacket hung off his small frame, and his hands were shoved into the pockets of loose black jeans. he looked tired, soft around the edges. like someone who had not been sleeping well. like someone carrying a weight he did not quite know how to put down.

seonghwa's chest squeezed painfully at the sight. he had not realized just how much he missed him until this very moment.

he watched as hongjoong wandered toward the back, like muscle memory was guiding him. his eyes scanned the shelves, fingers brushing along the spines, slow and methodical.

seonghwa did not move at first. his whole body was frozen in place, nerves pinning him down like gravity itself was suddenly heavier. but if he did not do this now, he never would.

he took a breath. then another. then stepped out from behind the shelf.

"...hongjoong?"

the sound of his name made the other boy stiffen. hongjoong turned slowly, eyes wide, almost like he was not sure if he had imagined it. and then they landed on seonghwa.

his lips parted, like he wanted to say something but did not know what.

"...seonghwa," he breathed after a moment, voice soft. unreadable.

they stood there in silence for a few seconds that felt like hours. both staring. both searching the other's face like maybe it held answers they did not have.

"uh..." hongjoong was the first to look away, rubbing the back of his neck. "what... what are you doing here?"

seonghwa swallowed. "i... i just... was in the area." it was a terrible lie. they both knew it. his voice faltered. "i... um. i heard you come here sometimes."

hongjoong's lips twitched, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "yeah. i do."

"i wasn't sure you'd be here," seonghwa admitted, shifting awkwardly. "i... i almost left."

hongjoong nodded, toeing the ground with the tip of his shoe. "i'm... i'm glad you didn't."

they went quiet again. the kind of quiet that felt heavy but not suffocating. careful, like neither of them wanted to say the wrong thing.

"how... how have you been?" seonghwa finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

hongjoong laughed softly, but there was not much humor in it. "oh... you know. i've... been. what about you?"

"same," seonghwa shrugged, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. "been. just... been."

hongjoong nodded slowly, like he understood exactly what that meant.

they lingered there, standing between the fiction and poetry shelves, not quite close but not far either. the air felt warmer now, or maybe that was just his skin heating beneath the weight of everything left unsaid.

"i wasn't sure if you... if you even wanted to see me," hongjoong admitted quietly, eyes trained on the floor.

"i wasn't sure either," seonghwa confessed, voice shaking just a little. "but... i wanted to try."

hongjoong finally looked up, meeting his gaze again. his eyes softened. "yeah... me too."

it was not much, but it was something.

"um..." hongjoong shifted, glancing toward the register. "i should probably grab the book i came for. before someone else does."

"yeah, you're right," seonghwa nodded, stepping back slightly, giving him space. "of course."

hongjoong hesitated before walking past him, their shoulders barely brushing; a touch so small but it made seonghwa's skin buzz like static. he watched as hongjoong pulled a paperback from the display table near the window. something about photography, something artsy. it suited him.

when he came back, neither of them seemed ready to leave first. they just hovered. nervous, unsure. both knowing this was not the time to unravel everything, not here. not all at once.

"i... um." hongjoong cleared his throat, gripping the book tighter. "it was good seeing you."

"yeah." seonghwa smiled, small but real. "you too."

hongjoong hesitated, then added, "maybe... maybe we'll see each other again soon."

seonghwa's heart stuttered at that. "yeah, maybe."

they stood there for a second longer, just long enough for it to mean something, before hongjoong offered a soft, unsure smile and turned toward the register.

seonghwa did not follow. he watched. let himself look. let himself miss him, but this time, with the smallest flicker of something else beneath it. something that maybe could be hope.

he turned toward the door, slipping his hands into his pockets, and stepped back out into the crisp morning air.

for the first time in a long while, it did not feel quite so cold.

the way they're so awkward...

-vic