"Oppa?"
Yura's voice.
He didn't turn.
She appeared beside him.
Followed his gaze.
Saw what he was seeing.
Soorin and Minjae disappearing into the night.
Her smile was slow.
Calculated.
She looped her arm through his.
Possessive.
"You're staring."
"I'm not."
"You are. It's pathetic."
He pulled away.
"Don't."
"Don't what? Tell the truth?"
"Yura—"
"She's moved on, oppa. Maybe you should too."
His hands balled into fists.
"I said don't."
"Or what? You'll brood more? Glare harder?"
She stepped closer.
Voice dropping.
"You had your chance. This is on you."
"I know that."
"Do you? Because you're acting like she owes you something."
"She doesn't owe me anything."
"Then let her go."
He wanted to.
God, he wanted to.
But he couldn't.
"Let's get dinner," Yura said. "Just us. Like old times."
"We never had old times."
"Then new times. Come on, oppa. You need to eat."
She tugged his arm.
He barely heard her.
Too busy watching the empty street.
