"It's true, isn't it? You like Han Junwoo!"
I flinched at the sudden loud voice and instinctively frowned, too busy trying to process what the hell was going on. Fuck, why would I ever like a loser like that? Just being associated with him was enough to piss me off. I answered with as much irritation as I could muster.
"I'm telling you, no! No way! I really don't!"
At my words, Yohan lifted his head. But the expression on his face was a smirk—pure mockery.
"Yeah, right. Then what was that Post-it note with Han Junwoo's name on it?"
"What Post-it...? Wait."
I stopped mid-sentence. Post-it note. No way. The one where I had scribbled Han Junwoo’s name, only to accidentally write Yohan’s name too, and then panicked and threw it away. That piece of paper. The same one Yohan had used to mess with me by writing some bullshit about salted pollack.
That bastard Yohan. So he had seen it!
"You... Did you pick that up? And you wrote that stupid salted pollack joke on it on purpose? Just to test me?"
"Quit stalling and answer my question. I know you're desperately trying to come up with something right now."
"You're insane. I was just about to write that I hate Han Junwoo, but I stopped halfway."
Ha. Yohan let out a laugh that filled the air with ridicule. He looked at me like I was spinning the most pathetic lie. I scoffed in response, hitting my chest lightly with my palm—frustrated beyond belief. Yohan, still smirking, asked again.
"Then why did you hurriedly scribble something out?"
"That was..."
Your name.
But I couldn’t say it. I clenched my mouth shut. Yohan's smirk only deepened at my silence. The moment I saw that distrustful look on his face, I wanted to spill the truth just to wipe it off. But reason held me back.
Should I just say it? What kind of face would Yohan make? The thought of it gave me an odd thrill—but that would be a microscopic happy ending.
"......."
Was I really supposed to throw away my future just for a brief moment of satisfaction? No way in hell. After a long internal struggle, I decided to give up a small hand and end this situation. A macroscopic happy ending was more important. Besides, Yohan’s suspicion was starting to get on my nerves.
I ran a finger across my forehead. Was this the right choice? My hesitation didn't last long.
"Fine. I'll be honest. You seem to already know, anyway."
I took a deep breath before continuing.
"Yeah. You're right. I liked Han Junwoo."
"......Ha."
Yohan let out a strange laugh. A twisted, crumpled-up smile. He had lost his ability to hide behind his usual mask, and his raw expression was completely exposed. In his distorted face, I saw despair. It squeezed my gut so tightly that my knees almost buckled.
"Listen carefully. Liked. Past tense. Not like."
At my words, Yohan slowly lifted his head. His sharp eyes glimmered oddly.
"It's in the past. Think about it—would you still like a dumbass who beat the shit out of you without a second thought, without thinking about the future?"
"......."
Why wasn’t he answering? Yohan was actually thinking about it, frowning in concentration. After a long silence, he finally responded.
"I think I could."
"......."
What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
"Then let me rephrase it. Would you just stand by and watch someone you liked fall apart? No, right? That’s why I don’t like him anymore. I get why you’d think that, but the person you imagine me to be..."
My words trailed off. If I hesitated here, it would only make him more suspicious. I clamped my mouth shut as if by instinct.
Really? You’re just going to let this chance slip away?
A voice inside me whispered.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you let this go, things will go back to how they were when you liked Han Junwoo. But Yohan... This might be the only time you can ever say the truth. Won't you regret it?
I clenched my jaw and gripped the end of my sleeve tightly.
Right. I was rational. I was someone who feared straying from a normal life.
"I'm not that kind of person. I don't like guys. Han Junwoo was just admiration, that's all. You probably noticed, but I'm shallow as hell. The moment he fell from grace, I lost all interest. Doesn't that prove it?"
I wanted to die from the sheer stupidity of letting this chance slip away. But this was the right answer for me. I had to believe that. This was my path. The safe route.
I had resigned myself to this conclusion and raised my head stiffly, looking straight at Yohan.
But then, Yohan did something completely unexpected.
He smirked. And then, he sat down beside me.
The soft mattress sank beneath his weight, his movements brushing against me. Yohan tilted his chin up slightly. The pale, shaken Yohan was gone.
Once again, he wore that arrogant, shameless expression.
"Then we're the same. I don’t like you, either."
"......What?"
"I'm shallow too, you know. I always favor the smart kids."
Bullshit. I barely stopped myself from swearing out loud. What the fuck is this bastard saying now?
"Yeah? That’s great. Then you can go be friends with Ahn Jisoo now."
"Nope. Why would I? She’s ranked second in the school. You’re the top student. Isn’t that right?"
"......Then what’s with all the pictures of me in your album?"
"Oh, that? I liked you. Past tense. Admiration. You get it, right? I’m a total sellout, remember?"
Fucking bastard. I clenched my blanket so hard my fingers hurt. Yohan had used the exact same excuse as me. If I refuted it now, I’d be contradicting myself.
This was one of those times where his annoyingly sharp brain pissed me off the most.
"Damn right. Then everything’s settled."
Yeah. This wasn’t a bad outcome. If I just let things go, we could move past this. Pretend nothing ever happened.
But my chest felt tight. My eyes were burning. If I wasn’t careful, tears might spill out.
It hurts.
He was acting like he didn’t care at all. That he had no lingering attachment to me.
It hurt so fucking much.
And if we ended it here, we wouldn’t even be friends anymore. We’d never go back to how things were.
"......."
"......."
Logic dictated this was the right choice, but regret still clung to me like a parasite.
I hated Yohan. But if he hesitated here, it would only complicate things further. He was handling this well.
Then why did I feel so childish? Was it because this was the first time someone had liked me?
Was it because the person I had liked turned out to like me too?
Yeah. That had to be it.
Something that should have never happened in my lifetime had actually come true. And now, I was the one clinging to something foolish.
I needed to let go.
I kept my gaze locked on the blanket, afraid that if I looked at Yohan, he’d see the resentment in my eyes.
"Then delete all the pictures of me from your album."
"......What?"
Yohan’s voice was stiff. The sound of it flipped my emotions over once again. I raised my head and looked at him. But as soon as our eyes met, Yohan averted his gaze. He looked down at the floor, his expression one of guilt, sneaking glances at me before hesitantly asking,
"......Why?"
"Isn’t it obvious? And it’s unfair. I have nothing on you, but you’ve been secretly taking pictures of me and keeping them. That’s weird. Delete them. And I want to check if you have any backup files. While we’re at it, show me your computer. Right now."
"I can’t do that."
That arrogant mask of his dissolved like cotton candy dropped in water. His voice wavered at the end.
"I’ll delete the photos. And there’s nothing on my computer."
"Then show me."
"I swear. I swear to God, there’s nothing else. My dad checks my computer all the time, so there’s nothing even worth looking at."
His rushed excuse was suspicious as hell. It sounded like a clumsy lie he had just cobbled together. My fingers clenched around the blanket.
"What? Why does your dad check your computer?"
Now that I thought about it, Yohan’s situation had always been strange. The way he was treated. Reformed. His weird obsession with religion, even though he barely knew Catholic prayers. Fragments of memories flashed through my mind, piecing themselves together—until finally, the last missing piece slotted into place.
"......You got caught, didn’t you?"
Yohan had used the Bible as a whip.
No—let me correct myself.
Yohan’s father had used the Bible as a whip.
"Your family found out, didn’t they? That you’re gay."
Yohan’s eyes dimmed again. He suddenly looked deep in thought. It was the first time I had ever seen that expression on his face—like he was desperately trying to work through something. Maybe that was why I felt a flicker of sympathy. Or maybe it was because Yohan had always been the hardest puzzle in my life.
Or maybe I was just losing my mind because Yohan had taken my correct answer and turned it into a wrong one.
Even so, my instincts made the choice for me.
"That’s what happened... isn’t it?"
I really was my parents' child. I was devoted to the people I loved, but I was also capable of making selfish decisions for my own future.
Sorrow, caution, regret, ambition—every selfish emotion tangled together, stabbing into me like needles.
The sickness of an eighteen-year-old who had spent too long in bed.
The only crime I had committed at the age of eighteen.
"Do you want me to help you?"
In that moment of greed, I betrayed God.
But that’s what being eighteen was. No matter how much I denied it, I was just another reckless eighteen-year-old. The taste of something sweet, once sampled, was impossible to forget.
Yohan’s sunken eyes began to light up.
Ah. He had found his answer.
"Really? You will?"
Yohan’s fingers pressed lightly against my nail. His long fingers traced up my hand, skimming over the bones between my knuckles.
Past tense? Admiration? What a joke.
I didn’t wipe the smile off my face. Yohan’s gaze grew heavier as he slowly scanned my face. His eyes stopped at my lips.
And then, he spoke.
"How?"
I tapped my finger against his knuckle. Yohan’s fingers trailed along the soft skin between mine. I didn’t pull my hand away.
"First... we have to make your parents trust you."
"Mm-hm. And?"
Yohan wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what was happening.
His dense eyelashes lowered slightly. His head dipped down, ever so slowly. His breath, warm and deliberate, brushed against my lips.
I stared down at the lips drawing closer to mine.
"......."
Just barely. Just a fraction of a second before our upper lips would have touched.
Our breaths were already tangled, teasing the edges of our lips. I never knew that someone’s breath alone could press down on my lips like this.
The ticklish sensation lingered on my skin.
We were crossing a river we could never return from.
I suddenly pulled my head back and covered my mouth with the back of my hand.
The lips that had nearly touched mine never came down.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Huh?"
"What were you just about to do?"
"......Uh. That’s..."
Yohan’s eyes, deprived of their target, were filled with something empty.
"That’s...."
Yohan glanced away for a split second before looking back at my hand covering my lips.
I couldn’t see his expression clearly, but it felt like a heavy, invisible liquid called disappointment was dripping from his eyes.
His face, faintly flushed, turned toward me.
Slowly, he reached for my wrist and pushed down with force.
I fought to keep my laugh from slipping out.
"Jun-ah."
The hand pushing down was forceful, but the voice calling my name was like a dog asking for permission.
This contradiction was what made Yohan so difficult.
After failing to pry my hand away, Yohan instead pressed his face into my palm.
His breath warmed the center of my hand.
I panicked and quickly shoved his head away with my free hand.
Smack.
The damp strands of Yohan’s hair swayed in the air, his head tilting slightly as he looked at me with thin, unreadable eyes.
He didn’t look pleased. His damp hair draped over his cold, sharp eyes.
For someone so scared, he sure was greedy.
Ridiculous.
"Yohan."
I looked at him with ease and confidence.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
"Delete my photos from your phone."
"......And if I do?"
The low, sticky voice reverberated through my bones.
I barely managed to suppress a laugh.
"Just delete them."
What the hell was he expecting?
I laughed to myself, half-joking, half-serious.