Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 55: I Know What it Feels Like

The dorm hall was mostly dark by the time JL returned, his bag slung over one shoulder, shirt damp at the hem from a brief misting of evening rain. He wasn't even staying here anymore, not really. His apartment was only a short walk away, his space more his own. But tonight, he'd forgotten his training journal. And something had told him to come back.

The door to the old shared room creaked when he opened it. He stepped in slowly, like he was interrupting something private. Something sacred.

Woongki was curled up in the far corner of the room, knees to his chest, a thick comforter pulled so far over his head, he looked like he was trying to turn back into shadows. The sound he made wasn't quite crying, not at first, but JL had cried like that before, so he knew what it was. The soft, uneven catch of breath. The kind of grief you don't want anyone to witness. The kind you try to swallow so hard it tastes like iron.

JL didn't say anything. He set his bag down gently, like he didn't want to wake the ghosts.

"Didn't know anyone was here," he said softly.

Woongki didn't move. His voice came muffled, low and small. "Forgot this was your haunted closet of sentiment."

JL huffed a small laugh. "You're thinking of my apartment. This place just has bad lighting."

After a while, Woongki sniffled. Wiped at his eyes under the duvet. "You're not even supposed to be here."

JL shrugged. "Left my journal."

"Of course you did. Sentimental little masochist."

JL smiled, just a little. "Takes one to know one."

More silence. But it was warmer now.

Then Woongki let out a breath and spoke, voice quiet, but not fragile. Just tired. "He asked why I root for every love except the one that's in front of me."

JL looked over. "And what did you say?"

Woongki's shapeless form shifted under the blanket, a shrug under fabric. "I said it wasn't real."

JL sat down beside him, back against the frame of a desk still covered in someone else's half-faded stickers. "But it is."

Woongki laughed, dry and sharp, but not cruel. "You're not the one who got caught in a stairwell almost kissing your best friend and then lost an entire team over it."

JL didn't flinch. "No. I just got called a distraction by someone I loved. Then watched him walk away like I never mattered."

Woongki looked up then. His eyes were puffy, and he looked like he hated being seen. But he didn't look away.

"I loved him," he said. "And I think he loved me too. But we were seventeen. We didn't know how to survive a world that hated what we were."

JL nodded. "Maybe we still don't."

They sat in the dim light, both of them suddenly small in their own histories.

"He said he thought if he disappeared, I'd survive the fallout better. That he was doing the right thing."

JL didn't speak. His chest was too tight.

Woongki laughed bitterly. "Funny thing is, I didn't even need him to love me back. I just wanted him to be near me. I could've survived on proximity alone."

JL's breath left him like a wave.

"I get that," he said softly. "Han didn't disappear. Not exactly. But he pulled back. He stopped showing up the way he used to. I thought it was punishment. Or disinterest. But now... now I think it was guilt. The way he said I was a distraction, and then watched me break myself to prove I wasn't. He didn't know how to stay without making it worse."

Woongki looked at him for the first time. Really looked.

"You think maybe that's what Kyungho thought too?"

"I think," JL said, "he thought silence would hurt less than shame."

Woongki nodded once. It looked like it cost him something.

For a moment, they just sat there. Two boys with aching chests and different ghosts. Then Woongki spoke again.

"You're lucky, though. You had Steven."

JL flinched. Not because it was untrue. But because it was true in too many ways.

"He stayed," Woongki said. "He loved you and didn't flinch. That's more than most people get."

"He's still here," JL said. "Even when I don't know what I want. Even when it's hard. He's like... like the version of Kyungho who didn't run."

That hit. They both felt it.

Woongki smiled without joy. "Must be nice."

"I don't think it's about nice," JL said, picking at a loose thread in the blanket. "I think it's about timing. Steven showed up when I needed someone to hold the weight with me. Han... he was the one I gave it to, and he didn't know what to do with it."

Woongki's voice cracked. "Kyungho knew exactly what to do. He just chose not to."

They sat in that grief together, unspoken and shared. And in a voice so low it barely left his mouth, Woongki whispered, "I would've let him kiss me. That night."

JL blinked slowly. "I know."

Then JL added, "Woongki... Kyungho still loves you."

Woongki didn't look up.

"Shanghai rooftop," JL said. "You weren't there, but he told Juwon and me. Said loving you was like loving the sun."

Woongki sniffed. "Blinding and annoying?"

JL smiled. "He said you light up the room, but never stay still. That trying to hold you is like trying to keep sunlight in your hands."

Woongki let out a breath that shook. "He really said that?"

"Yeah. And that it hurts. And he still wants you anyway."

Woongki stared at him, stunned and a little betrayed by his own tears. "That idiot. That stupid, loyal, melodramatic idiot."

"He said he's loved you for two years," JL added, gently.

Woongki blinked fast. "Okay, that's... that's a lot. That's therapy levels of devotion. That's 'write a novel about me' type commitment."

JL laughed softly. "He might."

"And if he ever says any of that to me in person," Woongki muttered, "I will spontaneously combust. There will be nothing left but glitter and ash."

"I'll run slow. Out of respect."

Woongki buried his face in his arms, then looked up, eyes wet, grin wobbly. "You'd better. And wear all black. It'll be dramatic."

"I live for theatrics."

They sat like that for a while longer. Neither fixing anything. Just letting the hurt exist. Together. And it was something. Maybe not healing. But close.