The clinking of chopsticks against porcelain filled the quiet dining room. Yue sat with her mother and younger brother, Jun, at the small but neatly arranged table, the same one they had always gathered around whenever she visited.
Her mother, ever the quiet type, didn’t speak unless necessary. She ate at a steady pace, eyes lowered, focused on her food. Jun, however, wasn’t as restrained.
He kept glancing at Yue between bites, brows furrowed in thought. It took him a few minutes, but eventually, he set his chopsticks down with a soft clack and leaned back.
"...Something's different about you."
Yue paused mid-bite, glancing up. "...What?"
"You." Jun gestured vaguely at her. "You’re weird today."
Her mother didn’t react, but Yue noticed the slight pause in her movements, the way she took in the conversation without interrupting.
"I’m the same as always," Yue said, taking another sip of her soup.
"No, you’re not," Jun insisted. His gaze narrowed, as if trying to read something from her expression. "You’re… softer or something. Less tense. It’s freaking me out."
Yue frowned. "Softer?"
Jun huffed. "Yeah, like—like you’re not about to bite someone’s head off at any second."
Yue scoffed and was about to argue when her mother, without looking up, finally spoke.
"You’re seeing someone."
It wasn’t a question. It was a simple, sharp observation.
Jun turned to their mother, his mouth falling open. "Wait—what?"
Yue stiffened. The directness of it threw her off more than she expected.
Her mother lifted her gaze, meeting Yue’s eyes with quiet certainty. There was no prying, no unnecessary words—just the weight of knowing.
Yue could lie. She could deflect.
But her mother wasn’t the type to ask something unless she already knew the answer.
So Yue sighed, lowering her spoon. "...Yeah."
Jun actually choked on his rice.
"What?!" He coughed, pounding his chest. "Since when? With who?"
"...Jaekyeom."
Jun gawked. "No. Way."
Their mother, meanwhile, simply nodded, expression unreadable.
A long silence stretched between them before she spoke again.
"Serious?"
Yue hesitated, gripping her chopsticks a little tighter. "...I don’t know yet."
Another pause. Then her mother nodded again, as if that was enough.
Jun, still looking completely thrown, shook his head. "I don’t believe this. You? Dating? I thought you hated relationships."
Yue exhaled, rubbing her temples. "I don’t hate them."
"You sure act like you do," he muttered.
Their mother set her bowl down gently. "It makes sense."
Yue turned to her, frowning. "...What does?"
"You wouldn't be with someone unless you really meant it."
Yue froze.
Her mother didn't say anything else, simply picking up her tea and taking a slow sip.
For some reason, that quiet acknowledgment felt heavier than a thousand words.
Yue sat stiffly, her mother’s words still lingering in the air.
"You wouldn't be with someone unless you really meant it."
It wasn’t meant to be a loaded statement, yet it settled in Yue’s chest like something undeniable.
Jun, still gaping, broke the silence first.
"Wait, wait, wait—so you do mean it? Like, actually like him?" His eyes flickered between Yue and their mother, as if trying to process the surreal reality that his perpetually unattached sister was dating.
Yue sighed, rubbing her temple. "...Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Because you're you," Jun said bluntly. "You don’t do this. You don’t let people in. Hell, you barely even come home."
Her fingers tensed around her chopsticks. She knew Jun didn’t mean anything by it—he had always been more vocal about their family dynamics than she ever was—but it still struck a nerve.
Their mother didn’t comment, only drinking her tea with that same composed silence. Yue could feel her sharp gaze lingering, assessing.
Jun leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, what’s the deal with this guy? You two serious, or is this, like, an experiment to see if you can tolerate human emotions for once?"
Yue shot him a glare. "Shut up, Jun."
He snorted. "No, but really. Do you like him?"
Yue opened her mouth to retort but then paused.
Did she like Jaekyeom?
The answer should have been simple.
Yes. Of course, she did. She loved him.
But somehow, sitting here in her childhood home, surrounded by the past she had kept at arm’s length for so long, the word felt heavier. Different.
Because liking someone—loving someone—meant something more than just feeling it. It meant acknowledging it, accepting what came with it.
It meant allowing herself to be part of something bigger than just herself.
"...It’s different with him," she admitted, voice quieter than before.
Jun blinked, as if he hadn’t expected a real answer. "Different how?"
Yue exhaled, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers. "...I don’t know yet."
Her mother finally set her cup down with a soft clink, tilting her head slightly. "But you're thinking about it."
Yue swallowed. "...Yeah."
Jun raised a brow, glancing between them. "So, wait—does that mean you’re serious about this guy?"
Yue hesitated. Not because she doubted herself, but because she was realizing, in real time, just how serious it already was.
She had let Jaekyeom in. Fully. More than anyone.
And it wasn’t something she could take back.
"...Yeah," she finally said, almost to herself.
Jun let out a slow whistle. "Damn. Never thought I’d see the day."
Yue rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, her mother spoke again.
"Bring him next time."
Yue’s head snapped up. "...What?"
Her mother simply picked up her chopsticks again. "You’re serious about him. I’d like to see for myself."
Yue blinked. "I—he—I don’t think—"
"It’s fine," her mother said, as if she had already decided. "Whenever you're ready."
Jun smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered Yue suddenly looked. "Ohhh, this is gonna be good."
Yue groaned, pressing her fingers to her temple.
She had not thought that far ahead.