blizzard at night

The sky was bruised with clouds as Ji-Woo walked alone through the dark hallway after study hours.

The school was nearly empty, but he liked it that way. No eyes. No whispers. Just silence thick enough to breathe.

Until he heard footsteps behind him.

Slow. Measured. Too familiar.

He didn't need to look back to know it was Min-Ho.

Ji-Woo picked up his pace, but Min-Ho matched it.

Step for step.

Breath for breath.

At the end of the corridor, Ji-Woo turned toward the side stairwell—the same one from the first week back. It felt like a loop. Like a trap.

He reached for the handle—

"Ji-Woo."

He froze.

That voice again. Low. Controlled. Almost careful.

He turned around slowly.

Min-Ho was standing a few steps away, hands in his coat pockets, eyes unreadable.

"You keep running," Min-Ho said, "but I'm still here."

Ji-Woo scoffed. "I don't owe you anything."

"You're right," Min-Ho said. "But maybe I owe you everything."

A beat.

The wind outside howled against the windows like a wounded animal.

Ji-Woo stepped closer without realizing it. "Why now, Min-Ho? After everything?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I couldn't keep pretending I didn't care."

And just like that, everything spilled over.

Ji-Woo shoved him—not hard, but enough. "You cared? When? When I broke? When I disappeared and no one came looking?"

Min-Ho caught his wrists before he could pull away. His grip was warm. Steady.

Ji-Woo's breath hitched.

"I didn't know how to help you," Min-Ho said. "But I never stopped wanting to."

Silence again. But this time, it wasn't cold.

It was charged.

Their faces were too close. Their breaths collided.

For a second, Ji-Woo thought Min-Ho would kiss him.

But he didn't.

He just held his wrists, gently, like holding broken glass.

And Ji-Woo didn't pull away.

Outside, the snow began to fall hard against the glass.

Inside, the blizzard was just beginning.