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Intro. We broke up two months ago, on a night when his arms were still around me and my voice shook as I whispered, “Let’s break up.” He didn’t argue. He just held me tighter, as if he already knew this ending was coming. We should’ve stopped there. We should’ve walked away. But instead, we kept meeting in secret corners of the university, in his car, in my room when my roommate was gone. We don’t call it anything—he doesn’t want love, just the warmth of my body, the comfort of my presence, the silence between us after. And I’m pathetic enough to accept it, even knowing he wants me only when he’s lonely or tired or craving something he’ll never name. I keep telling myself I can let him go. But every time he looks at me with those eyes that don’t promise anything, I fall right back into him, over and over, like I never left at all.

Keonho (EX WITH BENEFITS)

@Nora