At first, nobody noticed.

That was the dangerous part.

The change between Dohoon and Hanjin was so small that it blended naturally into busy schedules and exhaustion.

Dohoon stopped waiting outside recording rooms.
Hanjin stopped saving seats beside him during meals.
Their conversations became shorter. Cleaner. Safer.

To everyone else, they still looked normal.

But to each other?

Everything felt wrong.

The first real crack happened after dance practice.

The members were exhausted, scattered around the room catching their breath. Youngjae was lying dramatically on the floor while Jihoon complained about muscle pain. Kyungmin and Shinyu argued softly over timing mistakes.

Normally, Hanjin would've drifted toward Dohoon without thinking.

But now he hesitated.

And Dohoon noticed.

That hurt more than it should have.

Later that night, after the others left for dinner, Hanjin stayed behind in the practice room alone.

Music played quietly through the speakers, but he wasn't really dancing anymore.

Just moving.

Thinking.

Trying not to feel angry.

The door opened behind him.

Of course it was Dohoon.

Hanjin didn't turn around.

"You skipped dinner," Dohoon said quietly.

"I wasn't hungry."

Silence stretched between them.

Painfully familiar.

-

"You've been avoiding me."

Direct.

No room to escape.

Dohoon exhaled slowly.

"I'm trying to be careful."

"There it is again," Hanjin muttered bitterly. "That word."

Dohoon's jaw tightened slightly.

"You know why."

"No," Hanjin snapped, finally turning around. "I know you're scared. That's different."

The words hit exactly where they were supposed to.

For a second, neither spoke.

Then Dohoon finally admitted it.

"...Fans are noticing too much."

"And?"

"And if this becomes a problem—"

"You think I care about that right now?" Hanjin interrupted.

Dohoon looked away first.

That alone made Hanjin's chest ache.

-

"You promised me," Hanjin said quieter now.

Dohoon froze slightly.

"You said we wouldn't change after Jeju."

The memory hurt immediately.

The beach.
The ocean.
The way Dohoon kissed him like nothing else mattered.

And now?

Now he could barely look at him properly.

"I meant it," Dohoon whispered.

"Then why does it feel like I'm losing you?"

That question shattered something.

Dohoon stepped back instinctively.

Fear.

Always fear.

Hanjin noticed immediately.

And this time—

instead of sadness—

anger finally appeared.

"You know what?" Hanjin laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. "You're right."

Dohoon blinked.

Hanjin continued:

"We should stop."

The words clearly weren't what Dohoon expected.

His composure cracked instantly.

"Hanjin—"

"No," Hanjin interrupted, eyes glossy now. "You don't get to keep pulling me close just to push me away every time you're scared."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?"

Dohoon opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because he didn't know anymore.

Hanjin nodded slowly.

And somehow that hurt worse than yelling.

"I waited for you every single time," he whispered. "Every time you got scared, I stayed."

Dohoon's chest tightened painfully.

"But I'm tired now."

Those words nearly broke him.

"Hanjin, wait—"

But Hanjin stepped back before Dohoon could reach him.

For the first time—

he moved away first.

And Dohoon hated how empty it felt immediately.

"You made your choice," Hanjin said quietly.

Then softer—

"So now I'll make mine."

And this time—

when he walked out—

Dohoon didn't follow.

Not because he didn't want to.

Because he was terrified that if he did—

he'd beg him to stay.