Chapter 8: Silent Pain, Loud Hearts

The phone screen dimmed, the text still glowing softly on YoungBok's lap. He hadn't moved since reading it.

He’s here. I don’t think he even knows how he got here. But he’s safe. I promise.

Sherri’s message echoed louder than any scream ever could.

Hyunjin’s safe.

Hyunjin's... not here.

A tremble passed through YoungBok’s hands as he clenched his fingers tighter around the phone, eyes red but dry, because even the tears were exhausted. He hadn't even realized his body had gone numb. He had stayed up staring at the door, hoping Hyunjin would walk back in like it was all a dream. But it wasn't.

The room felt suffocating, empty despite being filled with the soft snores of the members. Then the door opened gently, and a shadow entered.

"YoungBok?"

It was Chris.

He paused by the door, taking in the sight of YoungBok curled up on the bed, back against the wall, head bowed low. Chris took one step forward before YoungBok finally looked up.

"He’s at Sherri noona's place," YoungBok whispered, voice cracked and barely audible.

Chris blinked. "Hyunjin is...?"

YoungBok nodded slowly. "She texted. He's there. Safe. Sleeping."

A long pause.

The rest of the members, already stirred by Chris's entrance, had gathered behind him. Their worried faces peeked in, confusion turning to relief and then concern.

Chris turned back and whispered, "He's safe. Staying at Sherri's. Go to sleep."

There were no questions. Just quiet nods. No one wanted to make it harder than it already was.

Once they were gone, Chris walked into the room fully, and gently sat down beside YoungBok, who was trembling again, tears finally falling in heavy silence.

Chris didn’t say a word.

He just pulled YoungBok into his arms, letting him fold into his lap like a child.

No advice. No comfort. Just presence.

YoungBok cried silently until his breath slowed, his head heavy against Chris's chest. Then finally, peace found him too—in the warmth of someone who didn’t need to speak to understand.

Meanwhile

Hyunjin's lashes fluttered, cheeks still damp against the warmth of Sherri’s thigh. The night had broken him, but her quiet touch and silence had let him rest.

He hadn't meant to come. He hadn't even thought. His feet had brought him here, and his heart had followed.

But now, light crept into the room. Morning.

Sherri moved quietly around the kitchen, making breakfast with the sort of care that always made Hyunjin feel like the world was okay. She hadn’t woken him. He needed rest. She knew that.

But before she could call him, the door opened.

YoungBok stood there.

The morning sunlight cast a soft halo around him, but his eyes were anything but warm.

He saw Hyunjin asleep on the couch, still in the clothes from last night. The blanket she had wrapped around him had slipped slightly.

Sherri stepped forward. "YoungBok, wait—"

But he didn’t say a word.

He walked straight to Hyunjin.

He knelt down and brushed the hair from his lover's forehead.

"Wake up. We’re going home."

Hyunjin blinked, disoriented, then sat up slowly. "YoungBok...?"

He sounded so small. Like he was still dreaming.

"Get up."

Hyunjin stood, rubbing his eyes, and then moved to speak. But the silence between them was heavier than words.

"I'm sorry," Hyunjin whispered.

He stepped forward, arms wrapping around YoungBok from behind, burying his face into his shoulder.

"I didn’t mean to. I just... I kissed her. Again."

YoungBok’s body tensed.

His hands clenched.

His breath hitched—but he didn’t let go. He didn’t push him away.

Because the ache in Hyunjin’s voice was real.

The pain was real.

He hated it.

He hated how much it hurt.

But he couldn’t let go.

"I was lost," Hyunjin whispered. "I didn't know what I was doing. I wasn’t okay. I’m still not."

Sherri stepped closer, placing a soft hand on YoungBok’s shoulder.

"It wasn't his fault," she said. "He wasn't in his senses. I should’ve stopped him. I didn’t mean for it to happen either. He wasn’t himself. It wasn’t planned—he didn’t come here to hurt you.”"

But YoungBok didn’t respond.

His grip only tightened on Hyunjin’s wrist.

The pain was so loud.

And yet, he couldn’t yell.

He didn’t want to say anything he couldn’t take back.

"Come home," he finally said.

Sherri stepped in front of them. "At least eat something. I made breakfast. Please. Just sit—"

But YoungBok shook his head.

"Not today."

He turned, gently pulling Hyunjin behind him.

Hyunjin looked back once.

Sherri gave him a small smile, but her eyes glistened.

She knew.

She always did.

YoungBok didn’t speak the whole ride.

Hyunjin sat like a shadow, not knowing what to say. Words felt useless now.

By the time they reached the dorm, the sun had climbed higher. The others were still asleep. The halls were quiet.

In their room, YoungBok sat down on the edge of the bed, back turned.

Hyunjin stepped in slowly.

"I love you."

YoungBok didn’t move.

"I love her too. But I love you more. I just didn’t know how much I was breaking until I couldn’t see her anymore. It made me realize how fragile I still am."

YoungBok finally turned.

His eyes met Hyunjin’s, and they were filled with oceans of pain.

"Do you think it doesn’t break me too? Every time you touch her, I feel like I’m vanishing. But I never stop loving you. I can't."

Hyunjin dropped to his knees in front of him.

"Then don’t let me go. Not even when I don’t deserve you."

YoungBok touched his face, and they stayed like that—two broken hearts trying to hold each other together.

No promises.

No solutions.

Just silence.

But sometimes, silence speaks louder than anything else.

And in that silence, love remained.

Hyunjin was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on the floor. YoungBok knelt before him, taking his hands in his own.

“Don’t disappear on me again,” he whispered, voice shaking. “Even if you’re hurting… come to me.”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes brimming. “I thought I lost you. I couldn’t take it.”

“I’m still here,” YoungBok whispered. “Even when it hurts. Even when I hate it. I’m still here.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“Maybe not,” YoungBok said with a tiny smile. “But I still love you.”

They got into bed, lying side by side.

It was quiet. The kind of silence that could shatter or heal.

Hyunjin reached for YoungBok, wrapping an arm around his waist. YoungBok shifted closer, burying his face into Hyunjin’s neck.

They didn’t need to talk anymore. Not now.

They held each other like lifelines, the ache between them dulled only by the warmth of their bodies, the steady thrum of a heartbeat against their own.

Pain lingered in the silence. But so did love.

They fell asleep like that—Hyunjin clinging to YoungBok, and YoungBok letting him.

For tonight, that was enough.