The hum of distant voices from the outdoor dining area faded into the cool, late evening air, leaving Do-yeon with only the sounds of the night. She walked toward a clearing, her gaze unerringly finding Hyun-woo by the treeline, a dark, still silhouette against the muted landscape. She stopped a few feet away, her resolve firm, not hesitating.

"You need to stop," Do-yeon stated, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Hyun-woo didn’t look at her immediately, his posture suggesting the conversation wasn't urgent, that her words held little sway over his composure. "Stop what?"

"Pretending like she doesn’t exist," Do-yeon shot back, her voice tight with frustration. "Ignoring her texts. Being deliberately absent."

Hyun-woo let the silence stretch between them, a calculated pause. Finally, he turned to face her, his expression a carefully constructed blank. "She reached out to me?"

Do-yeon exhaled sharply, a frustrated puff of air. "You know she did."

Hyun-woo studied her, his gaze unreadable, giving nothing away. "I didn’t respond."

"Exactly," Do-yeon countered, her voice rising slightly. "You’re just mean." A beat passed. Her voice held conviction, but it faltered slightly under his unwavering stare.

Hyun-woo exhaled lightly, a non-committal sound that was not a sigh, just an observation. "Interesting."

"What is?" Do-yeon demanded, stepping closer.

He finally met her gaze fully, his eyes measured and calm, but deliberately sharp, piercing through her composure. "How invested you are."

"Because unlike you," Do-yeon retorted, her voice hardening, "I actually care what happens to her."

Hyun-woo tilted his head slightly, his mind visibly calculating. Then, his voice smooth, casual, but pointed, he delivered his counter-blow. "Really? Is that why you turned up at the exhibition?"

Do-yeon froze. A stark pause hung in the air. Hyun-woo watched her reaction, waiting, his silence pressing down on her.

"And why exactly did you get in Soo-hyun’s car?" he continued, his voice even, revealing nothing.

Her breath caught slightly, a small gasp. Hyun-woo didn’t press, didn’t smirk. He just let the weight of his words settle, heavy and undeniable.

"You..." Do-yeon started, her voice barely a whisper.

"Saw?" Hyun-woo finished for her, a casual shrug accompanying the single word, too unbothered for the gravity of his revelation. "I did."

A pause stretched. Do-yeon recomposed herself, her shoulders straightening, her resolve hardening. "And you..."

"Didn’t mention it to Seo-jin," Hyun-woo completed her thought, his gaze unwavering.

Her expression shifted, caught between confrontation and uncertainty, a flicker of surprise and anger. "Why?"

Hyun-woo tilted his head slightly, as if the answer were utterly obvious. "Not for your sake." A beat. The air tightened before he even finished his sentence. "For hers."

Silence. Do-yeon didn’t respond. Didn’t argue. She just watched him, processing the implications of his words. Hyun-woo glanced toward the campsite, then back at her, his composure firmly back in place.

"You should head back."

A beat. Do-yeon didn’t move immediately. She turned slightly, her eyes flicking toward the path where Seo-jin had disappeared. For half a second—she looked like she wanted to follow. But she didn’t. Instead, her jaw tightened. She exhaled, steadying herself, then finally nodded. She turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the dimness.

Hyun-woo waited until she was completely gone. Then, finally, he let out a slow, profound breath, the only sign of the silent tension he had held.