Cherry paced the length of her room, bare feet pressing into the cool wooden floor. Her hands twitched at her sides, fingers curling and uncurling as if holding something invisible. She'd counted the knots in the wood too many times to pretend she wasn't a mess.

It had been a week. Seven days since she last saw him. Seven days since Taehyung appeared in front of her, too close in that fitting room, his gaze dropping like a stone against her skin.

Her breath hitched.

She shouldn't still feel it. The heat of his body, the way his fingers brushed her wrist—so light, like he was afraid to grip too hard. But he did grip, didn't he? And she hadn't pulled away. She wanted to pull away.

Liar.

Cherry dragged a hand through her hair, tugging at the roots until the sting forced her to stop. Her reflection in the window stared back at her. Unable to sleep from days, she looked pale and hollow-eyed, as if her thoughts drained the color from her face.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, as if she could squeeze the words out of her skull. But they echoed louder, curling like smoke in the corners of her mind.

Come to me, Cherry.

Her breath caught in her throat. She could almost hear his voice—soft, low, and taunting. It wrapped around her, tighter and tighter, until frustration sparked hot beneath her skin.

I want to watch you fall apart. Her nails dug into her thighs. Why did it sound like he was right there? Her room felt heavier, suffocating, like the shadows stretched too far. I want to see how far you'll crawl for it.

Her jaw clenched. She hated how easily those words snuck in, how they stuck to the insides of her ribs like tar. Each one left a bitter aftertaste.

I'm not chasing you this time. She bit her lip hard enough to sting. Why did that part bother her the most? It wasn't like she wanted him to chase her. Right?

Her head tipped back against the wall, and she exhaled sharply, as if the weight of the thought might roll off her chest. But it didn't.

Make me come to you.

Cherry's eyes snapped open. A harsh laugh escaped her lips—sharp and humorless.

"God, I'm so stupid." The words felt ridiculous. Make me come to you. It sounded desperate. Pathetic. "Why did I say that? JUST WHY-"

She wasn't the type to beg. She shouldn't be. But why did the idea make her stomach twist?

Her fingers curled into the sheets, bunching the fabric tight in her fists. Frustration bubbled up, hot and angry, but beneath it—somewhere deep—was something else.

Something dangerous. Because no matter how hard she tried to shove it down, Cherry already knew how this ended. She would come undone.

Just like he said!

Why did I give him that?

It felt like handing him a loaded weapon and daring him to pull the trigger.

Her heart twisted violently, a pulse of something that wasn't entirely anger. It was something worse—a longing she couldn't peel away from.

Taehyung had disappeared after that day—no lingering shadows, no stalking words, no whispers in the dark. The silence felt suffocating. And that lingering sensation of being watched, the subtle pressure of his gaze that never quite left her skin? That too was gone.

She should be convinced that it was better this way. No more uncertainty, no more late-night thoughts spiraling into something darker, something twisted. If he wasn't chasing her anymore, then why did she still feel like she was suffocating?

She curled up on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her knees. The absence of him gnawed at her, a void where his presence used to be, and yet, it wasn't relief she felt. It was... bothered.

Why does it feel wrong?

It didn't make sense. He had given her enough torment, enough confusion, and yet, here she was—wishing for his presence again.

She clamped her hands over her ears, hoping to drown out the nagging voice inside her head.

No. You don't want him here. You don't need him.

But that voice was soft, fragile, and buried beneath the growing ache in her chest. The ache that whispered the truth she wasn't ready to admit.

Maybe she didn't want him gone. Maybe, just maybe... she missed it. The feeling of being yearned for. He touched her like he worshipped her...

"You're an idiot" she whispered to herself, biting down on her lip as if the physical pain would block the confusion.

Cherry closed her eyes, trying to silence the feeling that something unfinished was hanging in the air between them, something she could never quite grasp.

Taehyung didn't even have to lift a finger. He knew she'd break first.

She could almost see it, the way his mouth would curve at the edges, that slow, knowing smirk. You'll come undone for me, just like before.

Her head snapped up, teeth sinking into her bottom lip to smother the thought.

"No," she hissed to the empty room. "I won't—"

But the protest wilted before it fully left her mouth.

Because he was right.

And Cherry hated that most of all.

"Why can't I stop thinking about him?" The question echoed in the silence, no answer rising to meet it. Taehyung had carved out space in her mind like he belonged there. It was invasive—unwelcome—but she didn't know how to make him leave.

He doesn't belong here. And yet she thought of him constantly.

His gaze. His mouth. The low, rasping way he said her name, like it tasted different on his tongue. Cherry swallowed hard.

"I barely know him. I don't even know if I want to..."

You sure?

"I can't keep doing this."

But she would. Because now, Taehyung wasn't just in her head. He was beneath her skin. She let out a sharp huff and pushed herself off the bed, the restless energy in her body impossible to ignore. Her thoughts were like tangled threads, knotted and pulling tighter the more she tried to loosen them. She walked to the window, the cold wood of the floor grounding her as she leaned on the sill.

Her gaze drifted to the garden below, bathed in moonlight. The silver glow cast long, soft shadows, and the gentle rustling of the trees swaying in the night breeze should have calmed her. But it didn't.

Why am I like this? she thought bitterly, staring into the maze of shadows and light. He's gone. He disappeared just like I wanted, so why does it feel like this?

Her fingers tightened against the windowsill. I am free! Free? But no, I'm standing here, staring at shadows like a lunatic, hoping— She cut herself off, refusing to complete the thought.

Her eyes flickered across the garden again, catching movement in the corner near the shrubs. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart stuttered.

There was a shadow.

It was tall, unmistakably human in shape, and completely still. Her pulse quickened, and a sharp pang shot through her chest as a single name rang in her mind.

Taehyung.

Her throat tightened. Her lips parted as if she might call out, but no sound came. She leaned closer to the window, her body rigid as she stared at the figure below. The shadow didn't move.

It can't be... can it?

Her heart pounded, each beat thudding loudly in her ears. Her thoughts raced, jumbled fragments of denial and impossible hope battling for dominance. She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing them hard enough to leave faint stars in her vision. When she opened them again, the figure was gone.

No, not gone.

It wasn't there to begin with.

Her chest tightened as the realization settled in. It was just the shrubs, their jagged outlines distorted by the moonlight. Her mind had twisted them into something they weren't.

"Of course" she muttered, her voice dry and laced with self-loathing. She let out a laugh—brittle and humorless—and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes.

Get a grip, Cherry. You're imagining things now. How pathetic can you get?

She turned away from the window, but her chest still felt heavy, her thoughts refusing to settle. No matter how she tried to rationalize it, one thing gnawed at her insides like a cruel, unspoken truth.

When she saw the shadow, the first name—the only name—that came to her mind was his.