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minniesfiles · 2 months ago

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A THOUSAND SORRIES

Your phone died without you realising it while at your high school reunion party. So when your best friend requested an old classmate to drop you home, you didn’t realise how much it would shake your relationship with your husband, who you swore would’ve never doubted your loyalty.

❧ PAIRING; seungcheol x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, arguing, swearing, crying, seungcheol is a little bit of an asshole, hurt with a lot of comforting, maybe a little overdramatic, fluff

❧ WORDCOUNT; 8.7k

[ part of the Silent Treatment series ]

𐚁₊⊹

▍7 MAY 2024

“Shit, it’s almost one,” you muttered, eyes slightly wide as the glowing red digits on the wall clock stared back at you.

You were still perched on the velvet sofa at the back of the club, your head buzzing slightly from a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. Everyone around you was still laughing. Some sloppily dancing and others in tight huddles catching up over half-spilled drinks.

The night completely ran away from you. You and your friends had gotten too caught up in celebrating your high school reunion, hosted by one of your classmates who now owned the club, to notice how late it had gotten. And more importantly, you were too distracted to notice that your phone died — nearly two hours ago.

You closed your eyes and mentally kicked yourself. Who leaves the house with only fifty-percent battery? You, apparently. And it would’ve been fine — if Sujin didn’t insist on hijacking your phone for photos all night. “Your camera’s way better,” she said as she snapped an infinite amount of blurry selfies and group shots.

If you had that last five-percent, you could’ve booked a taxi by now, or at least texted your husband to let him know you were alive and not passed out in a gutter. But nope. You handed over your lifeline in exchange for better lighting and wider angles.

Still, you had to admit, the night was worth it. Ten years. That was how long it had been since you last saw these faces. Physically, some had changed beyond recognition, but there were moments where their seventeen-year-old selves peeked through. The way Beomseok, the school’s heartthrob, still threw his head back when he laughed. Or how Soyoung, the well-known bookworm, always over-explained her stories like she was giving a TED Talk.

Even the ones you never really liked, like that one girl who always made everything about her, brought a strange and unexpected wave of kindliness. Maybe it was the nostalgia. Maybe it was the drinks. Either way, you didn’t feel the irritation you used to. Just a weird fondness.

You let your mind drift back through the night �� from the ridiculous dance-offs to the messy karaoke renditions of songs you didn’t hear in over five years. It was like slipping into a familiar old sweater, frayed in places but still comforting.

But now, reality knocked you back in your senses. You promised your Seungcheol you’d be home before midnight. He wasn’t the jealous type, but you knew he worried. And with your phone dead, no cash on hand, and no clue where your friends had scattered off to, you were stuck.

You scanned the club again, hoping to spot Sujin, maybe even your other friends at the very least. But nothing. Just bodies moving to the beat of some remix you didn’t recognise. You sat back and exhaled. You really didn’t know how you were getting home.

Sooner or later, you finally spotted Sujin over by the cocktail bar, half-laughing at something the bartender said as she swayed in rhythm to the music. The moment you saw her, relief washed over you like cold water, and you made your way towards her.

“Sujin,” you said, tapping her shoulder gently.

She turned around, a little startled. Her brow furrowed as she tried to hear you over the music. “Yeah?” she responded, a bit breathless.

You leaned in close, trying not to yell. “Do you know anyone who can drop me home? My phone’s dead and it’s getting really late. Seungcheol is probably losing it right now.”

Sujin’s expression shifted. She bit her lip and looked around as her eyes scanned the crowd of familiar strangers. “Ahh…” she muttered, her voice trailing off as she thought.

You could almost see the gears turning in her head. Then suddenly, her eyes widened. Her face lit up like someone just handed her the perfect answer.

“Minseok can drop you home!” she said, turning back to look at you.

“You know him, right?”

Of course you did. All too well. Minseok was your seatmate in physics back in your final year of high school. He was an astrology-obsessed nerd with a mop of hair always falling into his eyes and an inexplicable knack for blurting out random facts that you never asked for.

He once told you Mercury was in retrograde as you were about to fail a quiz, as if that was somehow helpful. Another time, he whispered a breakdown of Saturn’s rings during a fire drill. It wasn’t that he was mean, he was just…a lot. A walking trivia machine with no off switch. As harsh as it sounded, you didn’t miss him — not even a little.

“Seriously?” you said, half-horrified, half-resigned.

Sujin shrugged. “He’s sober. He came alone. And he’s not drinking, he’s literally sipping soda with lime like it’s a martini. He’s the safest bet.”

You groaned internally. Out of all the people, it had to be Minseok. You weren’t in the mood for a ride filled with awkward silence or worse — cosmic lectures about Venus retrogrades and your ‘energy aura’.

But desperate times, right?

Before you could protest, Sujin was already waving him over. “Hey, Minseok!” she called out.

You turned your head slowly, catching sight of him as he made his way through the crowd. He looked different, older obviously, but still very much him. His posture was straighter. His hair was neater, and he was dressed well in a simple button-up and dark jeans. Somehow, seeing him walk towards you didn’t feel quite as dreadful as you’d expected.

“Y/n! Hey, how are you?” Minseok greeted with a warm smile. You blinked in surprise. Not just at how relaxed he looked, but at his voice. It was deeper than you remembered. Smooth, even. Less nasal and less grating. Tolerable. Maybe even nice.

“I’m good. How about you?” you asked, offering a faint, polite smile. “I see you don’t wear your glasses anymore.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Ahh, I gave up on them and switched to contact lenses. It was a life changer,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“I see,” you said with a slight nod, unsure what else to add.

Before the silence could settle, Sujin jumped in. “So, Y/n needs a ride home. Can you drop her?”

“If you don’t mind,” you added quickly, almost reflexively. You didn’t want to sound like you were expecting anything.

Minseok didn’t hesitate. “Of course not! Let’s go,” he said, tilting his head toward the exit with a smile.

Your shoulders dropped as the tension left you in a soft breath. “Oh thank god,” you muttered, offering a more genuine smile in return.

You followed him out into the night where his car was parked a few yards away. Once inside, you gave him your address and he nodded before pulling smoothly onto the road.

The car ride was awkward, undeniably, but the soft music playing in the background drowned out most of it. He tried to make small conversations with you, only for you to give back short answers to avoid the awkwardness from growing. And he seemed to catch on to that, and decided no to press on too much.

╴╴╴╴╴

A few minutes later, Minseok pulled up outside your home. The street was quiet and dimly lit by the streetlamp. The neighborhood had long settled into silence — everyone asleep in their cosy homes.

You stepped out of the car and pulled your coat tighter around you as the cold air bit through the thin fabric. You turned back towards the driver’s side and leaned in slightly.

“Thank you so much Minseok. I really owe you,” you thanked him sincerely.

He gave you a small smile with his hands still on the steering wheel. “It’s okay Y/n,” he said softly, then added a chuckle. “It was nice seeing you after all these years.”

“You too,” you replied, returning the smile. You both waved each other a last goodbye before he drove off.

Turning to your house, you saw that the porch light was on. So were the lights in the living room. No surprise. Seungcheol was still awake.

As you stepped inside and started to kick off your shoes, you heard your husband’s voice hit you like a slap to the face. “Do you know what the fucking time is?” Seungcheol snapped from the hallway.

You froze mid-movement, caught off guard by the sheer aggression in his voice. You flinched while your hands were still on your laces. The look on his face was enough to stop you cold.

Rage was plastered across his face. His jaw was clenched so tight you saw the veins popping on his neck. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, like he hadn’t blinked in an hour. He stood there in his grey sweatpants and worn-out hoodie, but nothing about him looked relaxed. He was a coil pulled too tight.

Seungcheol never cursed, rarely even raised his voice. He always tried to stay calm and level-headed. So to see him like this, it threw you off.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said as you inched closer. Your voice was shaky, but your instinct told you to close the distance. You wanted to calm him, to hug the anger away.

When you reached for him, Seuncheol stepped back and shoved your arms off gently, but firmly. That simple gesture was enough to make your chest tighten.

“And why weren’t you answering my calls or texts, huh? Do you know how fucking worried I was?” his voice rose.

You flinched at the harshness in his tone, and your shoulders curled in slightly as if to shield yourself. “My phone died,” you said softly. The words tasted pathetic the moment they left your lips, because you knew it was a poor of an excuse to explain yourself.

“That’s it?” he snapped.

“Your phone died? Then you could’ve borrowed someone else’s! You could’ve taken two damn seconds to call me and let me know you were alive Y/n!”

You blinked, caught off guard by the volume of his voice.

You could have called. But it didn’t even cross your mind. You were too distracted. You weren’t ignoring him. It just didn’t feel urgent. Until now.

But how could you say that without sounding selfish?

You didn’t say anything. You just stood there quietly, hollowed out by guilt. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes stinging with tears. You could feel it. You could feel your throat tightening, and that familiar ache building just behind your eyes.

“Please don’t be mad. I’m home now.”

You reached for his hand. This time, not out of instinct, but desperation. You needed to hold onto something.

But he pulled away.

That was the moment something inside you cracked.

“Who was that guy who dropped you home, huh?” he suddenly questioned.

You froze.

Of all the things he could have said, this wasn’t what you expected. The question didn’t match the man you knew. The man who never batted an eye when someone flirted with you. The man who used to laugh it off and pull you closer like he had nothing to prove. Jealousy had never been in his nature. At least, not until now.

Your eyes narrowed as you studied him. He just looked at you, waiting.

You frowned, feeling something inside you start to burn. You would’ve answered him directly, but the fact that he even asked, it flipped a switch in you. A part of you that stayed patient through his yelling had enough.

“What do you mean?” you asked flatly. You weren’t playing dumb. You genuinely wanted to know — why that was even his question. Of everything that happened tonight, this was what stuck with him?

“That guy,” he said again, slower this time, as if you were the one not understanding. “The one whose car you got out of. Who was he?”

Clearly he saw you. But you weren’t surprised.

You blinked at him in disbelief, followed by a humorless laugh that slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

The laughter died as quickly as it came. “Seungcheol? What are you trying to say? That I fucked him?”

You knew you were being dramatic, but the sting of it, the audacity of his doubt, made your heart sink. You just spent the last ten minutes apologising for something that wasn’t even completely your fault.

“That’s not what I meant!” Seungcheol quickly defended. But there was a small hint of guilt in his eyes. Like he knew he went too far but didn’t know how to walk it back.

“Then what did you mean, huh?” your voice cracked now, finally matching his in volume. “You tell me what you’re implying!”

He opened his mouth, but then closed it. A beat passed between you. A silence filled with things neither of you were willing to say out loud.

“I saw you,” he finally said. “You were smiling. You looked so…comfortable with him.”

Sure you were grateful for Minseok for giving you a ride home, but being comfortable with him was the last thing you felt. So you could not believe how ridiculous he sounded right now.

“So what?” you stared at him.

When he had no answer to give you, you took a breath in to steady yourself.

“First of all, he’s not a stranger,” you said.

“His name is Minseok. We went to school together. He was Sujin’s suggestion because my phone was dead and I had no ride home.”

Seungcheol still didn’t speak. He just looked at you with his jaw clenched.

“And second of all,” you continued, walking closer to him.

“Don’t you dare turn this into some bullshit theory about me cheating. You know me better than that. Or at least, I thought you did.”

“I do know you,” he said, but the words sounded unsure now. “I just—I was scared Y/n.”

“I know,” you said, softer now, but still firm.

“And I’ve already apologised for not calling. I should’ve found a way. I get that. But you don’t get to throw baseless accusations at me just because you were scared.”

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair as he paced a bit around the hallway. “I’m not saying you cheated. I just—seeing you with him, then coming home late, not answering me—it messed me up. I waited for hours, just imagining the worst. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think.”

“I get it,” you repeated.

“But do you hear yourself? You think I’m out sleeping around because I got a ride from an old classmate? Because I smiled at him?”

Seungcheol sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it sounds stupid now.”

“It doesn’t just sound stupid Cheol,” your voice cracked, shaking your head. “It sounds like you don’t trust me.”

You gave him a last, glassy-eyed look before you walked past him. And as you did, your shoulder unintentionally bumped against his.

Seungcheol didn’t say a word. He didn’t even stop you. He just stood there, still and guilt-ridden, as he watched you disappear upstairs.

His face went pale, and his chest felt tight. He opened his mouth to speak, maybe to call your name, or maybe to say sorry. But no sound came out. What would it change? The damage was already done. He said the one thing he could never take back.

Seungcheol knew he messed up. He knew he crossed a line that might be too late to step back from. But in that moment, all he could do was stand there — frozen in the ruins of a conversation he never should have started that way.

You, on the other hand, tried so hard to stay composed. You willed your feet to keep moving, step by step up the stairs, while holding back the sobs building in your throat. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

But the second you reached your shared bedroom and closed the door behind you, everything broke loose.

You dropped onto the edge of the bed, like your body couldn’t carry the burden of your bottled up emotions any longer.

Your body began to shake as the first sob broke free. The first sob that escaped from your lips was sharp and strangled, followed by another. And another. Soon, they were pouring out of you uncontrollably. You curled in on yourself as your hands gripped the bedsheets, trying to stop the ache in your chest from spreading further.

But it was useless. The pain was too much.

You never imagined hearing those kinds of words from him. Not Seungcheol. Not the man who once told you he trusted you more than anyone in the world. The man who always said he didn’t need constant reassurance because “you’re my person.”

You weren’t crying just because he yelled at you. Or because of the jealousy. It was what it all meant. It was the implication behind his words, and the doubt in his voice. To you, it made you feel like you weren’t someone he could fully trust.

That hurt more than anything else. Because after everything you had been through together and every moment where he told you you were his safe space — it now felt like none of it mattered apparently.

Downstairs, Seungcheol sat on the edge of the sofa with his elbows on his knees and face in his hands. The house was too quiet now. Except for the faint, muffled sound of your sobs upstairs. The sound shattered him more than anything. He knew you were trying to keep it in. You always did. But it wasn’t working tonight.

He could practically feel your pain from where he sat. Every cry of yours echoed in his ears, louder than anything else. His hands curled into fists at the thought of it — at the reality of him being the cause. He used to be the one who made you smile, and wipe your tears. He promised to never make you cry.

Now look at him.

Seungcheol hated himself for it. For letting his emotions get the best of him. For turning on the person he loved most. He would’ve fought anyone who made you cry like that — anyone — and yet tonight, he was the one who broke you. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

He let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the sofa as his eyes trained on the ceiling like it could somehow offer an answer. But all he found there was more regret and more silence.

The sound of your crying didn’t stop. If anything, it became softer and more defeated. And that scared him more. Loud cries were of pain. Silent ones were of emptiness. He knew the difference.

He replayed the argument in his head over and over. His words and how your expression changed, and the way you flinched. He saw it all. It wasn’t just what he said. It was how easily it came out, wnd how little thought he gave before hurting you.

The worst part was that none of this came from a place of true doubt in you. He didn’t really think you cheated. The thought didn’t even occur to him until his anger morphed into a kind of jealousy he hadn’t even felt before. He was just finding an excuse to lash out on you for being late and not answering his calls. He knew he shouldn’t have. And instead of dealing with it like a grown man, like a partner, he lashed out like a child.

Seungcheol cursed under his breath and stood up abruptly. He paced around the living room as he thought about going upstairs. Apologising. He wanted to tell you everything he should have said instead. But what would he even say? “I didn’t mean it”? That felt too small. Too late even.

But still, he had to try.

Reluctantly, Seungcheol made his way upstairs. Your cries had now dulled into soft, broken sniffles that barely reached past the bedroom door, but they still echoed in his ears like sirens.

He paused just before the door as his hand hovered over the knob. He didn’t know if he was ready to face you, not after the damage he caused with words spoken in both anger and fear. He always promised to protect your heart and to never break it. But now here he was, standing on the other side of a door that never felt more like a barrier between you.

Maybe he should’ve waited longer and gave you space to breathe. But space also meant distance, and he didn’t want distance, especially not tonight. Not when things already felt like they were slipping. He didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you. He didn’t want you to think his doubt meant he didn’t love you. Because that wasn’t it. Not at all.

He turned the knob slowly and gently pushed the door open.

There he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed, with your back to him. You wiped at your face quickly when you heard the door open, like you were trying to erase the evidence of your pain before he could see it.

But it was too late. Your eyes were red and glassy, and your movements stiff and tired. Without saying a word, you got up and walked across the room towards your vanity.

Seungcheol stood at the door. He wasn’t sure if he should come in or back away. But after a beat, he forced his feet to move.

“Baby…” he started softly, his voice cracking a little. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to start. Everything he wanted to tell you felt too small compared to the hurt he saw on your face.

You didn’t respond.

He took a few more steps, watching as you sat down at the vanity and began removing your makeup. You moved like you were a robot as you dabbed at your eyes and wiped your cheeks. You didn’t even look at him. To you, he might as well have been invisible.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stopping behind you. His voice was quiet and careful. “I didn’t mean what I said. Really. I was just…”

But you still didn’t respond.

The wipes in your hand were tossed into the bin beside the vanity with a bit more force than necessary, but your face stayed calm. Not cold. Just blank. That was somehow worse. The silence was deafening, like it was screaming at him louder than any words you could have thrown.

He didn’t push, though. He just stood there and watched helplessly as you rose from the chair and brushed past him without a word towards the wardrobe. You pulled out a clean pair of pyjamas, underwear, and a towel. Then you turned and made your way towards the bathroom.

Seungcheol was left standing in the middle of your bedroom like a ghost. Like a man who broke something sacred and didn’t know how to fix it. He slumped onto the bed with elbows on his knees and head in his hands. His shoulders sagged and his chest felt tighter.

He played it back again. Every word. Every raised tone. Every look of disbelief and hurt on your face. And he hated himself even more for it.

All he could think about was how you didn’t yell. You didn’t throw anything. You didn’t argue. You just…shut down. That was how he knew it hit you harder than even he realised.

The sound of running water from the bathroom filled the room faintly. It was the only thing that broke the silence now. He sat there for what felt like forever, unsure if he should leave, or if he should knock and ask to come in.

But he knew you needed this time. Time to process. Time to breathe.

His heart ached.

He wanted to walk into that bathroom and pull you into his arms. He wanted to apologise properly. To kiss your forehead and promise he’d do better. That he’d never let his fears cloud the love he had for you again. But something told him words weren’t going to be enough. Not after the hurt he had caused.

╴╴╴╴╴

Seungcheol stayed sitting on the bed, waiting. The silence was too suffocating, and he rubbed his hands together as nerves ate away at him. He didn’t move from the edge of the bed since you closed the bathroom door behind you. Part of him still wanted to go ant knock, to beg for a second chance right there.

But he knew better. You needed space, and for once, he was going to respect that.

When the bathroom door finally creaked open, his head snapped in that direction.

You saw you walking out slowly in your fresh set of silk pyjamas. Your damp hair stuck softly to your shoulders as you gently dried it with a towel. Your face was calm, but still unreadable. There was no trace of any emotion. No glance in his direction nor any words.

It was like he wasn’t even there.

Seungcheol swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing heavier by the second. The atmosphere was thick and tense. He opened his mouth to speak, but before a single word could leave, you turned on the hair dryer. The loud whir filled the room, drowning him out completely and silencing any attempt at conversation before it even began.

He watched as you dried your hair. There was nothing rushed about you, yet everything about you screamed restraint. You were containing your anger, holding back your pain. He could see it, even if you refused to show it.

When the hair dryer finally shut off, the silence that followed was almost louder. You didn’t look at him. You simply walked past the bed, flicked off the lights, and climbed under the covers without a word. As the room dimmed, the shadows softened everything but the ache in his chest.

Seungcheol stood there in the dark for a moment, unsure if he should follow or give you space. But the need to be close to you and to feel your warmth pulled him forward.

He climbed into the bed behind you slowly and carefully. Your back was facing him and your body was curled slightly away. He hesitated for a moment as his heart pounded. Then, inch by inch, he scooted closer. Gently, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him, like he’d done so many nights before.

But, it didn’t feel the same this time.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck and breathed you in. You still smelled like the same shampoo he always teased you for hoarding in bulk. You still felt like home. But the stiffness in your body and the lack of response said everything he didn’t want to hear.

“Please baby,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m sorry.”

And he meant it. God, he meant it with every fiber of his being.

But you didn’t respond. Not with words. Not with a sigh. Not with a look.

Instead, your hand gently grabbed his wrist and nudged him away. You shifted forward, creating space between your bodies. He lay there, stunned, as his arm fell limply back to his side.

The cold hit him instantly. Not the air though, but the absence of you. The absence of your warmth and of your forgiveness. His heart dropped so far down, and so painfully, that he had to close his eyes to keep himself from falling apart.

To say his heart broke would be an understatement. It shattered into pieces. It hit the ground so hard, he swore he could hear the smash.

His eyes burned. He blinked to try to stop the tears before they could fall. But one slipped free. Then another.

Seungcheol didn’t cry often. He was strong and always the one to give you confidence during your doubts. But right now, he felt like sand slipping through fingers. Powerless to hold anything together.

He messed up. Bad. And he knew it.

He laid still. He was unsure if he should try again or stay silent. He stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering how the hell he was going to fix this.

He’d apologise again in the morning. He’d make you your favourite breakfast. He’d give you space if that’s what you wanted, or hold you tighter if you let him. He just needed you to know that he never meant what he said. That no guy in the world could ever replace what you were to him. That his words were laced with panic and not reality.

He needed you to know that he was terrified of losing you, and in trying to keep you safe, he might have pushed you too far.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Sleep never came. Not for him.

Seungcheol listened to the rhythm of your breathing. He hoped that it would calm him. But it didn’t. It only reminded him how far he felt from you, even in the same bed.

He reached out once more, hesitatingly, and let his fingers hover inches from your back. Then he withdrew, letting his hand fall beside him again.

Tomorrow, he’d try again, and you hoped you would give him a chance.

▍8 MAY 2024

When Seungcheol woke up the next morning, he felt a slight chill immediately run through him. He shifted under the covers, and his body instinctively reached out across the bed to find you. But his hand landed on nothing but cold sheets. The side of the bed where you usually slept was empty.

Frowning, he pressed his palm against the mattress. It was cold — too cold. And he realised that you’d been up hours ago

Panic was slowly stirring in his gut. He rubbed his face tiredly, trying to get rid of the haze from his eyes as the soft sunlight bled in through the curtains. Maybe you were downstairs. Maybe you were just drinking tea or sitting in the living room. Maybe everything was fine. Maybe—

But the moment he sat up, he knew it wasn’t. The house was too quiet. Unnaturally so.

Normally, he’d hear you in the kitchen as you prepared breakfast for the two of you. And the smell. He could always smell the chamomile tea you made for him first thing, because you knew he needed it to start his day. You always made sure to have a cup ready for him. You’d have that soft, sleepy smile that made everything else in the world seem irrelevant.

Today, there was none of that.

There was no sound or smells. Not even the warmth of your presence.

Seungcheol’s heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chests as swung his legs over the bed. He sat there for a few seconds, hoping, praying that he’d hear something — anything — that would tell him you were still there.

But the silence was deafening.

With slightly trembling hands, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand. There were no messages from you, nor any missed calls. Just one new message from Sujin.

[SUJIN]:

You’re lucky I didn’t break your legs. How could you do that to her? She didn’t deserve any of it, Seungcheol. You better figure out how to fix this.

He stared at the message as the words burned into his brain. Sujin’s anger was expected. She was always protective of you, and sometimes even fiercely so.

He sent a quick message asking if you were with her, and patiently waited while biting onto his nails.

[SUJIN]:

Don’t worry about her, she’s safe.

Seungcheol let out a shaky breath of relief. While he was glad to know you were somewhere safe, it did nothing to calm the restlessness in his heart.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. His mind kept replaying everything from the night before — every word that came out of his mouth and every look on your face.

One of the reasons your relationship lasted so long and grew so strong was because of the deep understanding between you. You were always patient with each other. You were both always willing to listen and to step back when needed. You weren’t perfect, no couple was, but you respected each other enough to work through it all.

Arguments happened before, of course. Insignificant things, frustrations and disagreements. But never like this. Never so intense. Last night was different, because it felt like it reached somewhere much deeper than either of you ever touched before.

Seungcheol knew you weren’t someone who lashed out easily. You didn’t lose your temper or escalate fights. You were always thoughtful, even when you were hurt. You didn’t run from problems — you faced them with a calm strength that he always admired, even when he was too stubborn to show it.

In fact, to Seungcheol, you were always the more tolerant one between you both. You gave more grace. You forgave quicker and you loved harder. You were the one who always held the ship steady when the storms hit.

And that’s what made this morning so gut-wrenching.

For things to escalate so badly — for you to leave without a note or a word — that wasn’t you being dramatic. That was you protecting yourself. You were drawing a line he should have never forced you to draw.

The realisation twisted like a knife in his gut.

It wasn’t you being overly sensitive. It wasn’t you misunderstanding him. It was about him. His fear. His words. His failure to trust you when you deserved nothing less than unwavering belief.

The fight alone wasn’t the reason you left. You left because somewhere in the middle of his anger and unknown jealousy, he made you feel small. He made you feel in a way that questioned your loyalty. He hurt you badly.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

There was no one else to blame but himself.

He couldn’t even lie to himself and say it was a misunderstanding. He crossed a line, and now he was standing on the wrong side of it with no way of knowing if he could bridge the gap.

Seungcheol leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He knew it would take more than just showing up at the door with flowers. He knew it would take more than empty words thrown in a moment of panic.

It would take time. Especially patience.

And he would do whatever it took to earn his way back. Even if it meant starting from the ground up.

╴╴╴╴╴

Seungcheol spent the next four hours doing everything he could to distract himself. He scrubbed every surface of the house until his hands were sore. He picked up things that didn’t even need cleaning. He even reorganised drawers that were untouched for months. He did anything to keep himself moving, anything to keep his mind off from the deafening silence filling the space you both used to share so easily.

When there was nothing left to clean, he threw himself into work. He opened his laptop and started answering emails he would have normally ignored. But he couldn’t focus. His mind was elsewhere entirely.

He could have gone into the office. He could have pretended that it was a normal day. But he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Because if he left the house, he’d miss the moment you came back.

That was when you’d come back.

Even as the hours dragged on, and hope started to thin like mist, he stayed. He stayed waiting. Regretting and hurting.

He checked his phone more times than he could count. He left you countless messages and calls in hopes that you would answer. And his heart jumped every time there was a vibration, only to be disappointed a second later. There were no answers from you. Only old notifications and an unread message from Sujin that was probably telling him to go fuck himself. Which was understandable.

But the silence from your end was killing him.

Just when he thought another second of waiting would crush him completely, he heard a soft click of the front door opening.

He nearly dropped the laptop off his lap in his scramble to stand up. He made his way quickly towards the hallway, nearly tripping over himself in the process.

And there you were.

You were bent over as you quietly slipped off your shoes. You were still in your pyjamas from the night before, with an oversized black jacket thrown over them.

You looked small and fragile. Exhausted.

He felt his heart twist painfully.

Your hair was slightly messy, and your face — God, your face — was red and puffy. It was obvious you hadn’t stopped crying, not for long anyway. You sniffed softly, blinking away fresh tears as you shoved your shoes aside without even sparing him a glance.

Seungcheol felt something inside him break.

“Baby,” he called out softly, voice cracking slightly as he took a cautious step forward.

But you didn’t respond. Not even paused. You just walked right past him.

He turned and followed you to the living room, helpless and desperate.

You shrugged off your jacket and placed it on the arm of the sofa, while your back was still facing him. You still didn’t look at him. You didn’t say a single word.

Seungcheol felt his chest tighten painfully, and his throat growing thick.

“Baby, please,” he choked out as he stepped closer.

Still, you said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, almost too quietly.

The words felt inadequate. They were empty compared to the hurt he caused. But he needed you to hear them. He needed you to know that he was willing to say it as many times as you needed. That he would spend the rest of his life making up for what he said.

“I know it’s not enough,” he continued, struggling to find his voice, “for the amount of hurt I’ve caused you by my words, but…” he trailed off, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

“I’m truly sorry,” he finally said.

You still didn’t turn around.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he said. The words were tumbling out now, more urgent and desperate.

“But I should have never said what I said. Never made you think I didn’t trust you. Fuck,” his voice cracked, fighting the tears he refused to let fall.

“Baby, I didn’t mean any of it. I really didn’t,” he cried.

He took another hesitant step closer. And he watched your shoulders tense, and how still you were, like you were holding yourself together by a thread.

He wanted to reach out and touch your hand. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and promise he’d never let anything like this happen again.

But he was terrified. He was terrified that if he pushed too hard, you’d pull even farther away.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice shaking.

“That’s not an excuse. It’s not. I let fear get to me. I let it make me doubt the person I trust more than anyone else in the world. And I hurt you. I hurt you when I should have been the one protecting you.”

Still nothing. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and deafeningly, long between you.

Seungcheol stood there feeling utterly helpless as his heart beat so painfully he thought it might break apart completely.

He wished he could rewind time. He wished he could take back every stupid and reckless word that came out of his mouth. But he couldn’t. All he could do was stand there, hurting and hoping that you would give him even a sliver of a chance to make things right.

He dropped his head, and his arms hung uselessly at his sides.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now,” he said.

“Maybe not even tomorrow. Or the day after that. But I’ll be here. I’ll wait. However long it takes. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

A tear finally escaped, trailing down his cheek. But he didn’t bother wiping it away.

“I’m not giving up on us,” he said, voice cracking again. “I would never.”

For a moment, nothing happened. You didn’t move, nor speak.

Seungcheol felt like he was suffocating. The longer you stayed silent, the tighter the air felt in his lungs. The fact that you wouldn’t even look at him shattered him more.

You didn’t have to scream. You didn’t have to say a single word. Your silence was already deafening enough that it echoed louder than any insult or accusation he had ever faced.

He stood there for a moment, watching you. He could feel the distance between you. You were right there in front of him, but you felt so far away.

And that was unbearable.

So he stepped forward, cautiously. He reached out, almost hesitantly, and wrapped his arms gently around your waist from behind. You didn’t resist. You didn’t lean into him either. But you didn’t pull away. And to Seuncheol, it was the tiniest mercy he clung to it like a lifeline.

He pulled you in slowly, pressing your back against his chest. He hoped that the warmth of his touch could speak where his words failed. He leaned down and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling a shaky breath.

Then, he started to sob. Quietly at first as his shoulders shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw and thin. It was all he could manage at first.

“I’m so fucking sorry baby.” The words tumbled out again more desperately.

Seuncheol didn’t care if he sounded pathetic. He didn’t care that he was crying or pleading. All he cared about was the wall between you — the silence. If falling to pieces at your feet meant you’d speak to him again, he’d do it a thousand times.

“Scream at me,” he begged softly, his breath hitching. “Curse me. Heck, hit me. Just…please, say something baby. Anything.”

Still, you didn’t speak.

But then he felt the slightest shift in your body.

Your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly under his touch, and your head tilted just enough for him to feel your cheek brush lightly against his. You weren’t rigid anymore and you weren’t fighting his presence.

“Say something baby, please. Anything. I want to hear you,” Seungcheol pleaded with a shaky voice, tightening his arms around you. He could feel his heart pounding erratically against your back.

But you didn’t answer. You stayed still and silent. And the air felt too thick to breathe. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, eyes shut tightly as he tried to keep it together. His grip wasn’t forceful, but there was urgency in it.

A long minute passed in the choking silence. Then, just when he thought it would stretch on forever, he heard a soft whimper.

Seungcheol stiffened, and his heart began staggering. He slowly lifted his head, and listened.

Another whimper followed, then a sharp, broken breath. And then — sobs. Real, raw, heart-wrenching sobs.

You broke down in his arms.

Seungcheol froze, and soon panic began to swallow him.

“No, no, no…” he whispered as he quickly turned you around to face him.

“Hey— hey, baby” his hands moved to your face, cupping it gently. “Look at me, please.”

Your cheeks were damp and flushed, and your eyes swollen and red. And the moment he saw you like that, something inside him shattered. He never saw you cry like this. Not even during your worst arguments, not even during your lowest moments.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered as his thumbs brushed under your eyes to catch the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Please. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, my love.”

His voice cracked mid-sentence, and his throat burned as if the words were scraping against the regret lodged there. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he mumbled as his breathing ragged, and his forehead gently pressed against yours now.

But you only cried harder.

Your body folded forward, and your forehead pressed into his chest as your sobs muffled against his shirt. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you like you were something fragile.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he whispered again. “I didn’t mean any of it, I swear.”

He said it in a way to not just reassure you, but as if repeating it could somehow undo it. As if it could take back the words he let slip when he lost control.

You didn’t respond. But your fists clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you held him just tight enough for him to know that you weren’t pushing him away. Not entirely.

And that was enough for him to completely fall apart.

He stood there as he rocked you gently. Tears were spilling from his own eyes as your cries rang within the quiet house. He didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care about anything but you.

He’d never felt so powerless in his life.

“I thought I was losing you,” he confessed quietly.

“Last night…I panicked. When I saw that you weren’t picking up my calls or answering my texts, and then seeing you get out of someone else’s car…I lost it. And instead of asking if you were okay, I accused you. I doubted you. I hurt you.”

You hiccuped through your sobs, still clutching his shirt. You hadn’t spoken yet, but your pain said everything.

“I’ve never regretted anything more than that moment,” he said, voice breaking.

“I should’ve trusted you. I do trust you. I just didn’t trust myself to be enough. And I let that insecurity punish you instead.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, even though your eyes were still closed and streaming with tears. “You didn’t deserve that. You never have. You’ve always been the one who held us together. And I— I let my worst fear make me the one who tore us apart.”

You finally let out a shaky breath, not quite a word, but enough to make him freeze.

His hand trembled as he brushed your hair back gently. “Please talk to me,” he whispered.

“I know I don’t deserve it right now, but…I just need to know if there’s even a piece of you that still wants to fight for us.”

He would understand if you didn’t. He’d hate it, and it would destroy him. But he’d understand.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and for the first time since you walked through the door, your eyes met his. The look you gave him wasn’t angry. It was exhausted. Shattered and deeply sad.

It broke him all over again.

“I was scared too,” you finally said, your voice hoarse.

“I never thought we’d come to such a point. And I was scared that the person I trusted the most didn’t believe in me. That…you saw me the way strangers might. Like I could just…be thrown away.”

“No,” Seungcheol said quickly, shaking his head.

“Never. I don’t see you that way. I never have, and I never will. It’s all my fault for being so insecure when there was no reason to be.”

“You really hurt me,” you said in a whisper as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“I know,” he replied softly, forehead pressing against yours again.

“And I will spend as long as it takes proving to you that I’ll never let it happen again.”

╴╴╴╴╴

The two of you were cuddled up together on the sofa. You were wrapped up in each other with your bodies entangled in a way that words couldn’t describe properly. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, the quiet between you was simply peaceful.

You talked softly. It was obvious how tired you were with how your voice was low, but it was still full of honesty. The rawness of the last twenty-four hours still lingered, but neither of you ran from it.

You repeated how scared you were and how betrayed you felt, and Seungcheol listened to you without interrupting. His apologies kept streaming, and not just verbally but through his tears and trembling touches. Especially in the way he held you like you — like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Eventually, your words began to slow down. You started to speak less and less, and your sentences trailed off as your head rested more fully on his chest. He could feel your breath even out before your body slowly went limp.

You fell asleep on him mid-thought.

Seungcheol looked down at you and just…smiled. Not because he was relieved, nor because the hurt disappeared, but because you were here — in his arms. You trusted him enough to let your guard down again, even if it was only for a moment.

It meant a lot to him. More than anything.

He brushed his fingers gently across your cheek, and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. You shifted slightly in your sleep, your face scrunching just a bit before relaxing again. He chuckled under his breath and continued to trace your jawline with the back of his knuckles.

You were exhausted. He knew that.

Everything that went down last night drained you. You didn’t sleep properly, didn’t eat much either, and your body was finally demanding what your heart didn’t let it take: rest.

Carefully, Seungcheol slid out from beneath you, trying his best not to jostle you awake. You stirred just a little as your hand weakly clutched the hem of his shirt.

“It’s okay love. I’m right here,” he softly whispered, and you relaxed again before letting him go.

He stood up and stretched his back slightly, before he turned his gaze down to you. You looked so small curled up on the sofa like that.

Without another second of hesitation, he leaned down and gently scooped you up into his arms.

Your head fell against his shoulder as he lifted you. You didn’t stir much either. Seungcheol just let out a quiet sigh as he adjusted his grip and carried you towards the bedroom. He made sure that his footsteps were soft so you wouldn’t wake up.

When he reached the bedroom, he gently nudged the door open with his foot and walked over to the bed. He then placed you down slowly. His hands lingered at your sides for a second longer before he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over you, tucking it around your frame.

It was only three in the afternoon, but the sunlight peeking through the window gave everything a golden hue. He stood there for a moment, and just watched you breathe. You looked peaceful again. Not fully at ease, nor healed — but calm. And that was enough, for now.

You badly needed the rest.

And if he had anything to do with it, he’d make sure you had all the time in the world to feel like you had nothing to worry about.

Seungcheol sat on the edge of the bed, and his eyes never left your face. He reached out and brushed his fingers along your forehead, gently moving the strands of hair that had fallen across your features.

You always looked beautiful to him, but in this moment, you looked ethereal. Vulnerable, yes. But resilient too.

He leaned down slowly and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was a promise that he would do better. Be better.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

He stayed beside you for a while, just watching. He sat listening to the way your breath slowed even more as you fell into a deeper slumber. The lines of tension in your face smoothed out and your lips parted slightly, while your hands loosened beneath the blanket.

Seungcheol didn’t want to leave your side, but he didn’t want to disturb you either. So after a long minute, he stood up quietly and took one last look at you before backing towards the door.

Before leaving, he turned back around, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

He loved you so much it hurt sometimes. But for the first time since yesterday, he felt like maybe there was still something worth rebuilding. And he was going to fight like hell to rebuild it. Brick by brick.

a/n; please like and reblog 🫶🏽

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