CHAPTER 3: WHEN WE WERE US
381 Words
The air was colder the next morning.
Hyeri stood on the rooftop of her apartment building, clutching a mug of warm barley tea. The city stretched out before her in shades of grey and white, quiet under the snow’s hush. But her thoughts weren’t quiet. They circled like ghosts — soft, haunting, persistent.
Last night had happened.
Eun was really back.
And he wanted to tell her the truth.
But the thing was — she didn’t trust the word truth anymore. Not from him.
She closed her eyes. And for a moment, everything faded. The rooftop. The snow. The ache in her chest.
Instead, she was eighteen again.
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Autumn, Two Years Ago
Hyeri laughed as she ran up the hill behind the university library, leaves crunching beneath her boots. Eun followed, breathless, carrying two steaming cups of hot chocolate. They were late for class, but neither of them cared.
“Come back here,” he called out, grinning.
“Nope!” she shouted, twirling in place as the wind caught her scarf — his scarf. “You’re the one who said skipping class was romantic.”
He caught up with her, breath warm against her cheek. “I said skipping class with you was romantic.”
She rolled her eyes. “Smooth.”
He smiled, and she remembered how that smile used to make her feel like the center of the world.
They sat under a tree, sharing one of the cups, his arm casually draped over her shoulder. She had asked him once what he was afraid of. He had stared into the sky for a long time before answering.
“Losing things I can’t get back.”
She had thought it was about his father, or his childhood.
She hadn’t known it would be her.
---
Now
The rooftop breeze tugged her back to the present. She blinked away the memory, though it clung to her like the scarf around her neck.
She should have thrown it away.
But memories had a way of surviving, even when love didn’t.
Her phone buzzed. A message.
> Eun: I know you don’t owe me anything. But can I see you tonight? Just once. Please.
She stared at the screen.
And then, slowly, typed:
> Hyeri: One hour. No lies.
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- Writer
