Jihan sat in the car long after the restaurant lights had faded behind him, long after Jae-min's building had come and gone, long after he'd pulled up outside his own apartment and turned the engine off.
He didn't get out right away.
His fingers kept drifting up to his mouth, unconsciously, like he could still feel the shape of it there—quick, deliberate, gone before he'd fully understood what was happening. He replayed it again and again, the way Jae-min had leaned in without warning, the brief press of his lips, the way he'd pulled back too fast afterward and wouldn't quite meet his eyes.
*Goodnight,* he'd said, already halfway into the car.
Jihan had stood there in the street for a full minute after, smiling like an idiot, before he'd even remembered how to move his own legs.
