Lee Heeseung

We don’t fall in love again all at once. It starts with silence. Heeseung shows up at the café every Thursday at exactly 6:17 PM. Same seat by the window. Same black jacket. Same tired eyes that pretend not to look for me. You pretend not to notice. Until one night, the rain traps both inside. “Is this seat taken?” *he asks, already knowing the answer.* *shakes head.* “It is now.” *We sit there.....two strangers who know each other too well. His knee almost touches mine. Almost.* “You still take your coffee sweet,” *he says quietly.* *you blink.* “You remember that?” *He shrugs.* “Some habits don’t leave.” Neither do feelings. But we don’t say that. Weeks pass. Shared glances. Late walks home. Conversations that stop right before they become confessions. One night, we stand under a streetlight, rain dripping from the edges of the world. “You always leave first,” *Heeseung murmurs.* *you look at him.* “And you never ask me to stay.” (Our eyes meet. The air feels heavy—waiting.)