- six months later -

the apartment was glowing in the quiet early evening, filled with the warm clatter of mismatched laughter and the low hum of music spilling from someone's phone speaker. seonghwa sat cross-legged on the floor, nursing a cherry soda and pretending it did not fizz too loud in the quiet moments. the others had gathered around the coffee table, scattered snacks and empty takeout containers spread like the aftermath of something good.

it had been six months since that night. six months since hongjoong had stood in his doorway drunk and trembling, since seonghwa had let the silence between them say everything that words could not.

it had also been six months since he had seen wooyoung or yeosang, even though his best friend was dating wooyoung.

but tonight was different.

he had told san, two weeks ago, that he was ready. that he was not sure he would ever be completely ready, but he did not want to keep avoiding them forever. he missed wooyoung's chaotic stories and yeosang's quiet wit. he missed the way they made the apartment feel full.

so san had invited them over, tentative at first, and when they knocked, wooyoung laughing too loud, yeosang trailing behind with a polite smile, seonghwa had opened the door himself.

he hugged them both.

not long, and not tight, but enough to say: i am okay, and i am trying.

wooyoung had looked surprised, maybe a little relieved. "you look good, hwa," he said softly, just loud enough to be heard over jongho yelling from the kitchen about burnt dumplings.

"thanks," seonghwa had replied. "you too."

now, hours later, they were all spread out across the living room. wooyoung was sitting between san's legs, his back against his boyfriend's chest, the two of them speaking in a secret language of glances and quiet touches. jongho and mingi were bickering good-naturedly about whether mint chocolate ice cream was an abomination, while yunho sat beside yeosang, laughing so hard he kept hitting his knee on the edge of the table.

seonghwa sat back and watched them all with a soft kind of distance, like looking through frosted glass. he was there, but not all the way.

"so," wooyoung said suddenly, grinning. "guess what? our bakery's getting featured in that little magazine, you know the one that interviews local shops?"

"you mean sweet & crumb?" san perked up. "that's amazing!"

"yeah," wooyoung beamed, ruffling san's hair. "it's small-time, but still cool. our cupcakes are basically famous now."

"i'll have to stop by again soon," mingi said, reaching for another cookie. "those matcha ones were amazing."

seonghwa blinked. the word bakery echoed in his chest, hollow and ringing. his fingers curled around his soda can, the condensation making it slippery in his grip.

he had not thought about the bakery in weeks. well, that was a lie. he thought about it all the time. he just tried not to. tried to keep those thoughts behind a locked door somewhere deep, where the smell of yeast and sugar and cinnamon could not reach him.

"hongjoong still working there?" jongho asked without thinking, and immediately, the room stiffened. not visibly, maybe. but seonghwa felt it.

yeosang answered carefully. "yeah. still opening the shop most mornings."

"huh," jongho said, then glanced at seonghwa like he had just remembered something he should not have forgotten. "sorry. i didn't mean to—"

"it's okay," seonghwa said quickly, though it felt like his voice belonged to someone else. "really."

wooyoung opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but yeosang gently bumped his shoulder. and for once, wooyoung let it go.

the conversation moved on. mingi began teasing yunho for losing rock-paper-scissors, san was defending wooyoung's weird food combinations, jongho was trying to flirt with yeosang but failing. seonghwa barely heard it.

his thoughts had cracked open like a window left ajar, and the wind was coming in fast, rustling all the papers he thought he had filed away neatly.

hongjoong.

the bakery.

opening the shop most mornings.

he imagined it. hongjoong's hair still damp from a too-early shower, sleeves rolled up, dried coffee bean crumbs on his apron. the quiet focus on his face when he steamed milk. the way he used to smile slightly when seonghwa walked in.

it hurt so bad to think about.

though it was so close by, he had not set foot inside since the night he walked away.

but now, the image would not leave him alone. for the first time in months, he did not push it away.

he wondered what hongjoong looked like now. whether he was still wearing that same old apron, or if he had finally gotten a new one. whether his eyes still crinkled when he smiled. whether he ever thought about seonghwa when he brewed the first pot of coffee in the morning.

maybe it was stupid. reckless, even. but something in seonghwa stirred, fragile and aching.

he stood up quietly, brushing the crumbs from his jeans. jongho noticed first. "hey, you okay?"

seonghwa nodded. "yeah. just... need a second."

he slipped into the hallway, the walls closing in softer than they used to. the apartment door clicked shut behind him, and he leaned back against it, breathing.

he should go to his room. get some sleep. let this pass.

but instead, his mind kept circling back to the same thought, stubborn as ever:

i should go see him.

he did not know what he expected to find. maybe hongjoong would not be there. maybe he would see seonghwa and turn around. maybe he would smile, or maybe not.

but it had been six months. long enough to stop pretending he did not care. long enough to wonder what it would feel like just to look at him again without the weight of anger. without the hope of getting anything back.

he did not sleep much that night. he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the soft sound of the fan like waves crashing somewhere far away. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the bakery. saw the soft golden light through the front windows, the chalkboard menu with its smudged letters, the stool behind the counter where hongjoong used to sit during slow afternoons.

he got up before his alarm.

the city was still rubbing the sleep from its eyes when he stepped outside, the sun barely warming the sidewalks yet. his steps were slow, uncertain, the streets too quiet.

the bakery was still there. its little bell above the door and the potted plant still alive, somehow.

seonghwa stood and stared.

he half expected his chest to cave in. but instead, he just felt quiet. steadier than he thought he would be.

through the window, he could make out a figure moving inside. small and familiar. carefully brewing a new cup of coffee.

his heart stuttered.

hongjoong.

he had not changed much. a little thinner, maybe. a little more tired in the way he moved. but it was him.

for the first time in six months, seonghwa did not feel like running away.

he did not go inside. just stood there, letting the morning fill the cracks inside him with something new.

maybe this was not the start of anything.

maybe it did not need to be.

but after everything, after the silences, the leaving, the aching, maybe this could just be a moment. real and human and unafraid.

a beginning, or maybe just an end.

or something in between.

seonghwa lowkey a creep for that LOL.

-vic