Chapter 6

Waking up was difficult.

I felt the palpitations— the slow rhythm pulsing through my chest. The warmth of the sun pressed faintly beneath my eyelids, and from the living room, the muted murmur of the radio lingered, threaded with the scent of roasted coffee. Each sense reached out, gently nudging me toward wakefulness.

But my mind— it whispered, no.

And my heart— it warned, be wary.

Then it came— a deep unease, settling like fog in my chest.

I was anxious.

I was afraid.

But why?

Waking up is difficult.

“Man, if only it could always be like this! I love wasting time like this—no assignments, brain empty, just enjoying ourselves. This is what happiness feels like. This is living!”

The blonde stepped past him, brushing leaves off his windbreaker before running a hand through his tousled curls. Leonis lifted his arms skyward and exhaled, a little too loudly to be subtle—clearly pleased that they have finally reached their destination.

They were cutting through the woods on a path Leonis had recommended—one that led to a secluded beach just beyond the town’s edge. It was shorter, sure, but wild and rough, as evidenced by Haneul now swatting twigs from his jacket. Leonis grinned at his misery. He knew Haneul wasn’t the outdoor type—too tidy, too indoorsy—but still, he came along. And Leonis appreciated that. Because at least Haneul trusted him to lead the way. It made everything worth it.

Emerging from the trees, they began to descend the long staircase down to the beach. Haneul could smell the ocean—salted and sharp—and feel the sand already clinging to his shoes. As his feet sank into the first step, he smiled. It was his first time here. And he loved Leonis for bringing him.

“It is—if you ignore that sketchy-ass trail we took to get here, haha,” Haneul teased, side-eyeing him. “Forget about painting. It’s not always about me. We can just chill and have fun, y’know?”

He flashed a wide grin, eyes narrowing with gratitude. He didn’t want Leonis to always be the one organizing ‘artsy’ hangouts. Today, Haneul just wanted to be there for him. Leonis still looked tired—dark circles, puffiness. It hadn’t fully faded.

They found a spot to sit after some wandering—a long driftwood log, perfectly placed for watching the waves. Haneul sighed in relief as he plopped down, legs aching. Beside him, Leonis mirrored the motion.

They were rarely this quiet. Even during oil painting assignments, they’d been loud—music blasting, Haneul laughing at Leonis’s clumsy brushwork, Leonis mock-threatening to paint over his friend’s canvas. Pure chaos, playful and childlike. And yet, those moments reminded them of joy—of what it meant to have real fun, even without a proper family, even in the now, together.

It was calming. Serene. 

A quiet, elusive kind of joy nestled in the knowledge that they had each other. Even stripped of chaos and noise, the moment held warmth.

“Thank you for always entertaining my nonsense, Haneul,” Leonis said softly.

“Anyway, it’s getting dark. Do you wanna—”

“I’m kind of tired. You’re right. Let’s head home,” Leonis interrupted, already standing and turning away.

Still, Haneul rose too, trailing silently behind. He didn’t question it.

Leonis seemed a little off. Maybe he just needed company—especially after everything. Especially after that house—where grief and resentment lived in the walls. A silent father. A mother reduced to memory. 

Haneul was relieved Leonis had reached out at all. Proud, even. It wasn’t easy, he knew that. And Leonis had been trying—reaching out, unwinding, stepping away from the act he put on at school.

When they reached the other side, there were no lingering goodbyes, no inside jokes or hopeful talk about their next meet-up. Leonis simply waved at him, said a goodbye, turned away and walked off, his figure growing smaller with every step.

Haneul remained where he stood, watching him fade into the distance. In that still moment, beneath the encroaching dusk, he found himself hoping that the end of the year would bring closure. That maybe, come the new year, something new might begin. Something better.

But the thought felt hollow. Optimism, in that moment, felt like something rehearsed. His mind turned over thoughts of Leonis—of his silence, his exhaustion, the way he carried pain behind easy smiles.

Maybe he really was just good at hiding it.
Like he always did.
With everyone else.

Haneul just hoped—sincerely—that Leonis wouldn’t feel the need to keep hiding from him.

I felt you leaving, even before you did.