LIES BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST SNOWFALL

Seoul's first snow always came without warning — soft, silent, and bittersweet.

Hyeri stood beneath the dull yellow glow of the streetlight, watching the snow fall like ash from a memory she couldn't burn. Around her, people passed in pairs, bundled in scarves and mittens, their laughter rising like warmth into the frozen air. But Hyeri stood still, untouched by the moment.

She didn’t believe in first snow wishes anymore.

Not since Eun.

The coffee shop behind her still smelled of roasted beans and cinnamon — a scent that reminded her of quiet afternoons and stolen glances. It was supposed to be just another night shift. Another attempt to forget. But when she looked up across the narrow street, time halted.

He was there.

Eun stood as if the universe had drawn him back just to test her resolve. His hair was longer now, his coat a little worn at the sleeves. But his eyes — deep and unreadable — were the same. The same ones that once told her they would never lie. And did anyway.

For a second, the city blurred. The only thing that existed was the space between them.

That space used to be filled with whispered promises. Now, it held only silence.

He walked toward her slowly, as if unsure she was real.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“Hyeri,” he said softly, stopping a few steps away.

The sound of her name on his lips made her chest tighten — like pulling at the thread of an old wound. She looked up at him, expression calm, unreadable.

“You’re still wearing that scarf,” he said.

She glanced down. The grey scarf, faded at the edges. He had wrapped it around her neck on a snowy night like this, two winters ago.

“It’s just a scarf,” she said.

But they both knew it wasn’t.

Eun gave her a small smile — the kind that used to make her heart race. Now, it felt distant, like watching someone else's dream.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he murmured.

Hyeri tilted her head. “That’s funny,” she said. “Because you were the one who disappeared.”

Snowflakes landed in her hair, delicate and cold. Her voice didn’t shake. But inside, something cracked — the kind of quiet breaking no one could hear but her.

There were so many things she could say. So many questions she once burned to ask.

But not tonight.

Some wounds didn’t need reopening. Some truths didn’t deserve answers.

And some lies... stayed between them.