CHAPTER 64: CHAPTER 64

Yu Jin’s POV

I woke up to an empty bed and my own heartbeat hammering in my ears like it was trying to escape my stupid ribcage.

The sheets on his side were cold. Not just "he got up to pee" cold, but "he’s been gone for hours" cold. I sat up so fast the room spun and my dick, still half-hard from some fucked-up dream about him, slapped against my stomach like it was personally offended.

"Min?" My voice cracked like a twelve-year-old. Nothing. "Park Min, if you’re in the bathroom without me I swear..."

Silence.

I scrambled out of bed, boxers twisted around my thighs, nearly face-planted because my legs still thought they were made of wet noodles after last night. The apartment was too quiet. No shower running. No kettle clicking. No sarcastic "took you long enough to wake up, asshole" from the kitchen.

And then I saw the note.

It was stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a cartoon cat. The paper was torn from the back of an electricity bill. His handwriting, messy as always:

*I need space to remember who I am when you’re not inside me.*

*Don’t look for me. I’ll come back when I stop shaking every time I think about you.*

**P.S. If you call me, I will block your number.**

I stared at it so long the words started swimming. My hands were shaking. Actually shaking. Like some pathetic drama protagonist.

"Space," I said out loud, voice cracking again. "Space. Awesome. Love that for us."

I grabbed my phone. Dead. Of course it was dead, because we hadn’t charged anything in four days unless it was each other. I yanked the charger out of the wall so hard the plug nearly took a chunk of plaster with it.

While it powered on, I paced. Kitchen to living room to bedroom and back. My feet kept stepping in dried slick spots on the floor. Gross. Hot. Gross. I was going to throw up.

Phone finally lit up. Twenty-seven missed calls from my mom (probably because I hadn’t answered in weeks), one text from my Woo min and another from Rin. and zero from Park Min.

Zero.

I called him. Straight to voicemail. His voice, all sleepy and smug: "Yeah, it’s Min. Leave a message or don’t, I don’t care."

"Pick up your fucking phone," I snarled into it. "You don’t get to leave a note like some heartbroken teenager and then ghost me, you absolute dick. Call me back. Now."

I hung up and immediately called again. Same thing. Again. Again. Again.

By the tenth time I was screaming into the void and my throat hurt.

I pulled on yesterday’s jeans (still sticky, fuck my life), grabbed his spare key because mine was god-knows-where, actually I don’t have one, and stormed out barefoot because I couldn’t find my shoes and didn’t care.

First stop: the convenience store downstairs. The auntie behind the counter took one look at me (shirt inside out, hickeys everywhere, hair looking like I’d been electrocuted) and her eyes went wide.

"Did you see Park Min come through here?" I barked.

She shook her head so fast her perm bounced.

"Great. Thanks. Super helpful."

I ran to the subway station. Checked every carriage like a lunatic. People were staring. Some girl took a photo. I flipped her off.

Next: the library. I sprinted up the stairs three at a time, nearly took out a freshman.

Empty.

I called again. Voicemail. Again. Again.

I was losing it. Actually losing it. My chest felt like someone had parked a truck on it.

I texted him.

*me:answer your fucking phone

me:min

me:i’m sorry

me: i’m freaking out

me:please

me:i’ll delete every video i swear

me: i’ll burn my phone

me: just tell me you’re okay

me:min

me:MIN*

Nothing.

I went to the café he loved. The one with the shitty coffee and the owner who always flirted with him. I hated that place.

"Has Park Min been in today?" I asked the second I slammed through the door.

Jiwon, looked up and smirked. "Wow. You look like a f##$$# horny ahh with a lawnmower and lost."

"Has he been here?"

"Nope. Its been a while he ordered from us."

I wanted to punch something. I left before I got arrested.

Next stop: the han river park. The bench where couples have our first kiss .I ran the whole way. My lungs were on fire. My feet were bleeding. I didn’t care.

Empty.

I sat down hard on the bench and just. Broke.

I cried like a fucking baby. Head in my hands, snot everywhere, making those horrible hiccupping noises that make you want to die of embarrassment even when nobody’s watching.

"This is so stupid," I sobbed to nobody. "I’m so stupid. He’s gonna come back and laugh at me for crying in public like a loser. He’s gonna call me a dramatic bitch, what have I done.."

My phone buzzed.

I fumbled it out so fast I dropped it in the dirt.

One new message. From him.

*min:.stop calling. i can see you’re blowing up my phone. i’m fine.

min: go home.

I typed so fast my thumbs kept slipping.

*me:where are you

me: tell me where you are right now

me: i’m not going home

me: i’ll stay here until you come get me

me: I look like a homeless person

me: people are filming me crying

me: this is your fault

Three dots. Then nothing. Then three dots again.

*min: you’re at the bench aren’t you

I looked around wildly. "MIN?"

Nothing.

*me: WHERE ARE YOU

me:SHOW YOURSELF COWARD

min: look up idiot

I looked up.

He was standing twenty meters away, hands in his hoodie pocket, hood up, staring at me like I was the biggest idiot on earth.

Which I was.

I stood up so fast I got dizzy. "You absolute asshole..."

"Shut up," he said, but his voice was shaky. "Just...shut up for once."

He walked toward me slowly, like he was scared I’d bolt. Or maybe he was scared he would.

When he got close enough I could see his eyes were red. He’d been crying too. His bottom lip was chewed raw.

"You left," I said, and my voice cracked again. Embarrassing.

"Yeah."

"Because of me."

He sighed, long and tired. "Yeah. Kind of. Mostly. I don’t know."

I took a step closer. He didn’t move back. Progress.

"I woke up and you were gone and I thought..." I swallowed hard. "I thought you finally realized I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve you and you were never coming back."

He snorted. "Wow. Dramatic much?"

"Fuck you."

"Been there, done that. Multiple times. My ass still hasn’t forgiven you."

I laughed. Couldn’t help it. It came out wet and ugly and perfect.

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell him again. That stupid honey scent that made my knees weak.

"I just needed to breathe," he said quietly. "Without you breathing down my neck. Literally. Your rut pheromones were still all over the apartment and every time I inhaled I wanted to bend over the kitchen counter and beg you to wreck me again. I needed to remember what my own brain felt like, and you know so we’ll, never in my 27 plus years of life did I think such will ever happen to me and I’ll be man handled."

I flinched. "I’m sorry."

"I know."

"I’m really sorry."

"I know, Yu Jin."

"I’ll do anything. I’ll take suppressants. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll let you punch me in the dick. Whatever you want."

He rolled his eyes. "Tempting. The dick-punching."

I grabbed his sleeve before he could pull away. "Don’t leave again. Please. I can’t... I can’t do that again. I thought I was gonna die."

He looked down at my hand, then up at me. His eyes were soft now. Too soft. It hurt.

"I’m not leaving... leaving," he muttered. "I just needed a few hours. I slept at Taehyun’s place. On his couch. Fully clothed. Nothing happened, you jealous freak."

"I’m not jealous."

"You’re vibrating."

"Shut up."

He stepped into me then, arms sliding around my waist, face pressed into my neck. I hugged him so tight I probably cracked a rib.

"You’re sweaty," he mumbled into my skin.

"You love it."

"You smell ugly."

"You love that too."

He laughed. Shaky and wet and real. "God, we’re so fucked up."

"Yeah," I whispered into his hair. "But you came back."

He pulled away just enough to look at me. "I always come back, dumbass. You’re stuck with me."

I kissed him then. Hard. Messy. In public like a fucking maniac. He kissed back just as desperate, fingers twisted in my shirt, pulling me closer like he was scared I’d vanish.

When we broke apart we were both crying again. People were definitely filming now. Whatever.

"Don’t ever leave a note like that again," I said against his mouth. "Next time just text me ’I hate you, going to cry in a park, brb.’"

He laughed. "You’re an idiot."

"Your idiot."

He sighed, long and suffering. "Yeah. Unfortunately."

When we finally arrived home I needed something to make him stay. "Carry my baby Park min." I said to him