The night air was cold. My breath came out in faint clouds, fading just as quickly as they appeared.
I sat on that same park bench, hands buried in my pockets, shoulders slouched, staring at nothing. Just the shadows moving under the streetlamp. Just the quiet I told myself I wanted.
Then her voice broke it.
"...You're here too?"
Ji-Won.
I didn't need to look up.
I already knew.
The kind of presence you feel even before you see. I glanced anyway. She stood a few feet away, notebook hugged against her chest, hair loose around her face. She looked... out of place in the dark.
Like she belonged somewhere softer.
Not here.
Not with me.
"Guess so" I muttered. My voice came out rougher than I intended.
She shifted on her feet, then slowly stepped closer.
"I didn't think anyone else came here at night."
"They don't."
That should've been the end. A dead answer to kill the conversation. But she stayed. Sat down on the other end of the bench, leaving just enough space between us.
Not too close.
Not too far.
I frowned at the ground.
Why are you sitting here?
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The silence pressed in heavy, broken only by the creak of the swings in the wind.
"...So" she started, carefully, "do you always walk around this late?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes."
"That's not an answer."
"Didn't know I owed you one."
She gave me a small smile at that, like she wasn't offended at all.
"True."
I looked away.
My chest tightened.
Why wasn't she leaving?
Her fingers traced the cover of her notebook, eyes flicking toward me.
"You're… different at school."
I raised a brow. "Different?"
"You don't talk to anyone. You walk like you're carrying the weight of a skyscraper on your shoulders. Like nothing touches you, but... I don't know. You don't seem to be what people say."
I let out a sharp breath, almost a laugh. "People say a lot of things."
"Do they matter to you?"
"No."
She studied me for a long second.
"You said that too quickly."
My jaw clenched.
She wasn't wrong.
But she wasn't right either.
"Doesn't matter" I muttered.
She tilted her head, watching me like she was sketching me in her mind. Not mocking. Just curious. And somehow that felt worse.
The silence stretched again, heavier now.
Finally, I asked, "Why are you even talking to me?"
Ji-Won blinked at the bluntness but didn't look away.
"Because... I wanted to."
"That's it?"
She nodded. "That's it."
I scoffed, leaning back against the bench. "Bad idea."
"Maybe" she said softly, "but I don't think so."
My throat tightened. I couldn't look at her anymore. Instead, I focused on the swings again, chains rattling in the wind.
She stood after a while, clutching her notebook tighter. For a second, I thought she'd finally had enough.
But before leaving, she said, almost a whisper, "You don't always have to be alone."
Her footsteps faded into the night.
I sat there, frozen.
Why does she say things like that?
Why does she look at me like she sees something I don't?
I clenched my fists inside my pockets.
I told myself I didn't care.
That I wouldn't care.
But her words clung to me anyway, louder than the silence she left behind.