Frozen Reverie

Chapter 21: Echoes of the Unsaid

Hyun didn't know when he had started waiting for Yuna to come back to him. Maybe it was the moment he first saw her again in this life, or maybe it was every second since. But now, standing at the edge of the Han River, the cold wind biting against his skin, he realized something painful—waiting wouldn't bring her back.

The past couldn't be rewritten.

Minseok's words had echoed in his mind for days now. Maybe she already has.

Had Yuna really moved on? Was Rey now the person she leaned on, the one who made her laugh when things got too heavy? The thought settled uneasily in his chest, yet he had no one to blame but himself.

The next day, Hyun found himself sitting alone in the university library, staring blankly at the open book in front of him. The words blurred together, unread and unprocessed. Across the room, he spotted Yuna laughing softly at something Rey had said, and something inside him twisted painfully.

He was about to look away when Yuna's eyes flickered toward him. For a split second, their gazes met, and the air between them felt charged, heavy with everything they hadn't said.

Then, just as quickly, she turned back to Rey.

Hyun clenched his jaw and shut the book. He needed to clear his head.

Yuna, on the other hand, felt that gaze long after she had looked away. It haunted her thoughts, tangled with her emotions in a way she didn't know how to unravel.

Rey had been nothing but good to her, and yet, her heart still hesitated.

She sighed, placing her cup of bungeoppang on the table of the small café where she and Rey often met. He noticed her silence, setting his coffee down as well.

"What's wrong?" Rey asked, his voice filled with quiet concern.

Yuna hesitated. "Do you ever feel like no matter how far you walk, you're still standing in the same place?"

Rey's expression softened. "You mean with Hyun?"

She tensed at his directness, but eventually nodded.

Rey let out a slow breath before smiling, though there was something sad in his eyes. "You know, Yuna… loving someone isn't just about how much they mean to you. It's also about how much space they take in your heart. And from where I'm standing… he's still there."

Yuna swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press against her ribs.

Because deep down, she knew Rey was right.

Chapter 22: Shattered Reflections

Hyun wasn't sure what hurt more—watching Yuna drift further away or knowing that he had no right to pull her back. The weight of his silence had built an invisible wall between them, a distance neither of them dared to cross. But as he watched her from afar, he realized that his silence wasn't protecting her—it was only hurting them both.

The evening air was crisp as Hyun wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets of Seoul. Neon lights flickered against the wet pavement, casting distorted reflections that felt eerily similar to the fragments of his own emotions. He needed to talk to her. He needed to say what had been left unsaid for too long.

Yuna sat by her bedroom window, the city lights twinkling beyond the glass. Her fingers hovered over her phone, hesitating before she finally unlocked it. A part of her had been waiting—waiting for a message, a sign, anything from Hyun. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe she had been waiting too long for someone who was never meant to return.

Her phone vibrated suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts. Her heart stilled when she saw the name on the screen.

Hyun: Can we talk?

A mix of emotions surged through her. Uncertainty. Hope. Fear. But before she could second-guess herself, her fingers moved on their own.

Yuna: Where?

The reply came almost instantly.

Hyun: Han River. The place where it all began.

The wind was colder near the water, but Yuna barely felt it as she spotted Hyun standing by the railing, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his expression unreadable under the dim glow of the streetlights.

For a moment, they just stood there, neither speaking, both caught in the tension that had built between them over time.

Then, Hyun exhaled. "I don't know how to do this, Yuna."

She crossed her arms, more to brace herself than for warmth. "Do what?"

"Fix what's broken."

Yuna let out a shaky breath. "Maybe some things aren't meant to be fixed. Maybe they're meant to be let go."

Hyun flinched at her words but didn't look away. "Is that what you want?"

Silence stretched between them. Yuna wasn't sure if she had the answer.

She had spent so long convincing herself that moving forward meant leaving him behind. But standing here, face-to-face with the one person who had ever truly known her, she realized something terrifying.

She wasn't sure if she could.

Chapter 23: Echoes of a Love Lost

The night was unforgiving, the cold seeping through Yuna's coat as she stood frozen by the Han River. The conversation with Hyun still echoed in her mind, playing in an endless loop she couldn't escape from. Her hands trembled—not just from the chill, but from the uncertainty tightening around her heart.

Had she made the right choice?

She had always told herself that if Hyun ever came back, she would be stronger. She would be able to face him without the weight of their past dragging her under. Yet, standing in front of him tonight had unraveled her resolve in seconds. His eyes, dark and conflicted, had pulled her back into a past she had tried so hard to leave behind.

Yuna let out a shaky breath and turned her gaze to the river, its surface reflecting the city lights in scattered fragments—much like the remnants of what they once had. There was something poetic about it. No matter how much light there was, some parts of the water would always remain dark.

Just like them.

Hyun walked aimlessly through the nearly empty streets, his thoughts a whirlwind of regret and longing. He had never been good with words, and tonight had been no exception. He should have said more, should have told her that she was the only thing that had ever made his cold world feel warm. But all he could do was stand there, watching the unspoken emotions in her eyes before she turned away.

Why did it feel like every time he reached out, she slipped further away?

He clenched his fists, frustration building within him. He had promised himself that this life—this second chance—would be different. But was he already losing her again?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts. He hesitated before pulling it out, his heart clenching at the name on the screen.

Yuna: Do you ever wish we had met differently?

Hyun stared at the message for what felt like an eternity. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, his mind racing with a thousand different responses.

Did he wish they had met differently? Would it have changed anything? Or were they always meant to be caught in this cycle of love and loss?

He exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air, before finally typing back.

Hyun: No. Because even if we met a thousand times in a thousand different lives, I'd still find you.

Yuna stared at the reply, her chest tightening. She should have known.

Hyun had always been like this—infuriatingly sincere in the most painful of ways.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. Maybe, just maybe, that was what made letting go so damn impossible.