The kiss

Beom-soo's POV

"Stop right there!"

My voice rang down the corridor like a shot.

He froze mid-step, his back still turned to me. For a second, he didn't move. Then slowly—finally—he turned around.

His eyes met mine. Tired. Bitter. Guarded.

"What now?" he muttered, voice low, like he didn't have the energy to fight anymore. "Haven't you—"

I didn't let him finish.

My feet moved before my thoughts did. I grabbed him by the collar, yanked him forward—and crashed my lips against his.

A kiss.

Raw. Sudden. Desperate.

He stiffened under me, breath catching in his throat. Shock. His fingers twitched like he didn't know whether to push me away or pull me closer.

I didn't give him the chance to decide.

My heart was pounding too fast to stop now. Too much had been unsaid. Too much had been bottled up.

I pulled away just slightly, close enough that our foreheads nearly touched. He stared at me, breathless, eyes wide, lips parted.

"You think I don't care?" I whispered.

"You think I can just forget you?"

His silence said everything.

I exhaled sharply. "I tried… with her. I really tried. But every time I look at her, I think of you. Every smile, every date—it all feels fake when it's not you."

His eyes searched mine like he didn't want to believe it. Like he couldn't afford to.

"You kissed me," he whispered, like he didn't know if it was real.

"I did."

He stared at me a second longer, then looked away. "...Why now?"

"Because I couldn't hold it back anymore," I confessed. "Because watching you walk away hurts more than anything."

He didn't say anything.

But he didn't push me away either.

He pulled away.

There it was again—that look.

Not surprise. Not anger. But something worse.

Disgust.

His brows furrowed like I'd crossed a line he didn't want crossed. His eyes—those same eyes that once softened when I spoke—now held a cold kind of confusion.

I stood there, frozen. Heart open. Exposed. Bruised.

"What's with that look…?" I asked quietly.

He didn't answer.

"Was I wrong?" My voice cracked, even though I tried to sound strong. "I thought you felt the same. Didn't you say… you loved me?"

Still nothing.

Only silence.

Like he was trying to figure out whether I meant what I did… or whether he could forgive me for doing it.

I took a step back, pulse thudding in my ears. "Don't you feel the same?" I asked again, this time softer. Weaker.

He lowered his eyes. The silence between us felt heavier than a scream.

And then… he walked away.

Later that evening, we were walking home.

He walked ahead, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense. I followed at a distance, unsure if I was allowed to close the gap anymore.

I didn't say a word.

Not because I didn't want to.

But because I didn't know how to.

How do you talk to someone after you've kissed them without permission?

How do you speak when their silence speaks louder than anything else?

The streetlights flickered above us, and his shadow stretched long on the pavement ahead. I stared at it like it might tell me what he was thinking.

But it didn't.

I wanted to call his name.

But all I managed to whisper was,

"…Han-jae."

He didn't turn around.

Lee Han-jae's POV :

They didn't see me.

Or maybe they did—and just didn't care.

Tae-min leaned in, saying something I couldn't hear. His voice was always low when it came to Beom-soo. Private. Possessive. It made my skin crawl.

Beom-soo turned to him briefly, and even though he didn't smile, his head dipped a little like he was listening closely.

Too close. Too casual.

I clenched my jaw.

It shouldn't matter. He can talk to whoever he wants, right? That's what he said the other day. That he's not ready for a relationship. That we should "stay friends."

Friends, huh?

He kissed me and then told me we should stay friends.

And now he's walking with Tae-min like they've always belonged to each other. Like that kiss didn't mean anything.

My nails dug into the strap of my bag as I stood at the end of the path, just out of their sight. I could've walked past. Could've ignored it.

But I didn't.

I turned around and walked toward the front gate instead. I couldn't watch them anymore. I'd snap.

I told myself I didn't care.

But the bitter taste in my mouth said otherwise.

---

When I reached the front gate, the street was mostly empty. A cold wind picked up, brushing against my face like a cruel reminder that I was alone again.

Was this how it was going to be now?

Him with her in public. Him with Tae-min in private. And me… somewhere in between.

The space between us was growing. I could feel it widening every time I let him slip past me without stopping him. Every time I swallowed my pride just to keep him around.

I should've pushed him away.

But I didn't want distance.

I wanted him.

Even if he didn't want me back the same way.

Even if it meant falling harder.

Even if it meant breaking, eventually.

I looked up at the sky. It was turning dark.

I whispered to myself, barely audible—

"Don't make me hate you, Beom-soo."

I didn't breathe.

Not properly.

Not until they were gone.

Even then, it felt like the air burned through my throat as I tried to swallow the heat crawling up my neck. I stayed rooted in place, my shadow cast long under the flickering streetlamp.

That image wouldn't leave my mind.

Beom-soo letting someone else close.

Letting Tae-min close.

He didn't even pull away.

Didn't even look uncomfortable.

My thoughts twisted—spiraled. What were they to each other? Just old friends? Something more? Was that kiss he gave me just confusion? A mistake? A lie?

No.

I won't let it be.

That kiss meant something. I felt it. The way he froze for half a second after. The way he looked at me—eyes wide, lips parted, breath stolen.

He felt it too.

So why is he letting Tae-min touch him like that?

---

I walked home with that question pounding in my head like a dull migraine. Each step heavier than the last. I didn't bother turning on the lights when I got to my room. Just slumped down on the floor, back against the wall, staring into the dark.

I wanted to call him. Text him. Anything.

But I didn't.

I didn't want to seem desperate.

He should be the one chasing me.

He should've been mine already.

---

The next day at school, I watched him walk in like nothing happened. Beom-soo—hair a little messy from the wind, lips slightly chapped, eyes half-lidded like he hadn't slept. He looked… perfect.

Too perfect.

He greeted Do-won with a lazy smile. Nodded at Nam-woo. Didn't even glance in my direction.

That was his mistake.

Because now… I wasn't going to wait anymore.

If he won't come to me willingly—

I'll make him.