The following days felt like they were in a constant state of flux, each one testing the boundaries of what Eunwoo thought he knew. He hadn't been prepared for how much things would shift after that conversation with Minjae. What had once felt like a quiet, unspoken bond between them had now become a fragile thread, pulling them closer, but also threatening to unravel at the slightest tug.
At school, everything was still awkwardly familiar. The once seamless connection between him, Minjae, and Hyunwoo had frayed slightly. Hyunwoo noticed the change first, of course. He wasn't blind, and he had always been the observant one in their trio. His quiet questions about Eunwoo's mood, the way he seemed to withdraw more than usual, didn't go unnoticed.
Eunwoo wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet.
Minjae, however, seemed like he was walking a delicate line. He was quieter than usual, sometimes watching Eunwoo from across the room, his gaze soft, almost as if he were waiting for something. Eunwoo caught those moments, and each time, his heart skipped. The tension was thick, but it was also strangely comforting, like standing on the edge of something monumental.
During lunch, Minjae pulled Eunwoo aside, his voice low as he spoke. "We need to talk."
Eunwoo's stomach twisted. There it was again—the weight of the conversation that neither of them seemed to be able to avoid. He glanced over to their usual table, where Hyunwoo was sitting, looking at them curiously. He couldn't help the feeling of guilt that curled in his chest.
"I'll be back," Eunwoo said quickly, and Minjae nodded, leading him to the quiet corner of the school courtyard. The sound of distant chatter and footsteps faded, leaving them in a bubble of their own silence.
Once they were out of earshot, Minjae took a breath, clearly gathering his thoughts. "Eunwoo," he began, his tone serious. "I don't want to rush anything, but... we need to be clear with each other. We've been walking around this for days, and it's starting to feel like it's getting in the way of everything else."
Eunwoo nodded, unable to look Minjae in the eye. He knew exactly what Minjae meant. Everything had felt like it was on the edge of something, but they hadn't yet taken the leap. He wasn't ready to dive in, but he didn't want to keep pretending it didn't matter either.
"I know," Eunwoo replied, his voice softer than he intended. "It's just... I don't know what to do. I don't know what this means, or what's going to happen next. It's all a mess."
Minjae stepped closer, his eyes intense. "It's not a mess. It's just... complicated. But we can figure it out. Together. If you're willing to."
Eunwoo swallowed hard, his pulse racing. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to believe that they could figure this out, but something held him back. It wasn't just the uncertainty about his feelings—it was the fear of everything changing. Of losing something important in the process.
"I... I need time, Minjae," Eunwoo said, his voice cracking a little. "I need to understand this. I need to know if this is something that's worth risking everything for."
Minjae's expression softened, and he nodded, taking a step back. "I'm not asking you to have all the answers. I just want you to know that I'm here. Whenever you're ready."
The quiet words lingered between them, and for a moment, Eunwoo thought he could feel the space between them closing, just a little. The weight of what was unspoken still pressed down on them both, but there was also something else—a tentative understanding that, maybe, just maybe, they could make it through this.
"Thanks," Eunwoo said quietly, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'll figure it out. I just... need to take it slow."
Minjae smiled, the kind of smile that made Eunwoo's chest tighten with something he couldn't quite place. It was genuine, warm, but also full of something more. Hope, maybe. Or a promise.
"Take all the time you need," Minjae replied, his voice soft. "I'm not going anywhere."
The bell rang then, a sharp sound cutting through the fragile moment between them. Eunwoo nodded quickly, his throat tight, and turned to head back to class. He didn't look at Minjae again until he was almost out of sight. The tension still lingered, but it was different now. There was a new layer to it, something he hadn't been able to see before. Something that wasn't just fear or confusion, but the potential for something more.
As he sat down at his desk, he tried to focus on the lesson in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to Minjae's words. I'm here. Whenever you're ready.
It felt like a promise. A promise that Eunwoo wasn't sure he could keep, but one he wanted to believe in. The truth was, he wasn't ready for what this meant. He didn't know if he ever would be. But with Minjae's words echoing in his mind, he allowed himself a sliver of hope that maybe, someday, he would be.
---
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Eunwoo found himself back at the park, the familiar sound of the swings creaking in the breeze. He hadn't planned to come here, but it felt like the only place where the world could slow down for just a moment.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the silence. He pulled it out to see a message from Minjae.
"I'll be here tomorrow, same time. If you want to talk. No pressure."
Eunwoo stared at the message for a long time. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel or think. But as he typed a simple response—"I'll see you then"—he realized, for the first time in a while, that maybe he didn't have to have it all figured out.
Maybe, just maybe, taking it one step at a time was enough.