The days passed slowly after that terrible incident at the restaurant. I had locked myself inside my apartment, ignoring the endless stream of texts and missed calls from both Jun and Seong. Their names lit up my screen again and again, but I just couldn't face them—not after what had happened. The pain of being fired still stung, but it was the emotional weight of Jun's ex-boyfriend's outburst and Jun's mother's cruel words that had cut the deepest.
I stared at my phone again, fingers hovering over the screen. Jun's latest message was short but heartfelt:
"Censia, I'm sorry. I miss you. Please let us talk. We can fix this."
I closed my eyes, letting the phone slip from my hand. How could they fix this? How could I fix this? I was overwhelmed, drowning in doubts that I didn't know how to pull myself out of.
It wasn't just the drama with Jun's ex or his mother's words that haunted me—it was my own mind. Could this kind of relationship ever work? Was I fooling myself, thinking I could fit into their world? And, more than that, would I ever truly be enough for both Jun and Seong?
That night, I curled up on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest. The apartment felt suffocating, and even the comforting scent of old candles and my mother's knitted blankets couldn't calm my racing thoughts. The space that had once felt cozy now felt unbearably small, pressing in on me from all sides.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't need to look through the peephole to know who it was. The sound of Jun's voice, muffled but unmistakable, came through the door.
"Censia… please. Let me in."
I bit my lip, torn between wanting to open the door and wanting to push him—and all of this—away. He knocked again, more insistent this time.
"We've been waiting out here for hours. We're not leaving until we talk to you."
We.
I froze. That meant Seong was here too. The idea of facing both of them at once felt unbearable. But deep down, something stirred. It wasn't just guilt or sadness; it was something warmer. The memory of Seong bringing me flowers and offering me a job flashed through my mind. The way Jun had kissed me in the rain. They had made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time—something real.
Slowly, I stood up and made my way to the door, my hand hesitating on the handle. Taking a deep breath, I pulled it open.
There they stood. Jun's eyes were filled with worry and exhaustion, his hair slightly disheveled as though he hadn't slept. Seong, standing behind him, had his usual composed look, but his eyes were softer than usual, betraying his concern.
"Censia," Jun said softly, stepping closer, but I held up a hand, stopping him.
"I don't know if I can do this," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.
Jun's face fell, but he didn't push forward. Instead, Seong stepped up, surprising me by speaking first.
"We're not here to pressure you," he said in that calm, soothing voice of his. "We just want to talk. To explain. Please, let us in."
I stared at them for a long moment, weighing my options. My mind was a mess of conflicting emotions—fear, longing, doubt. But, beneath all of that, there was something else too: the undeniable pull I felt toward them both.
Finally, I stepped aside, letting them in.
They entered my small apartment, their presence filling the space, making it feel even smaller. Jun sat on the couch immediately, running a hand through his hair. Seong stood awkwardly near the door for a moment before following suit. I stayed standing, arms crossed protectively over my chest.
"I'm sorry," Jun said after a long silence. "For everything. For my ex, for my mother, for not being there when you needed me. I know it's been a lot. Too much, maybe. But I love you, Censia. We both do."
My heart twisted at his words, but I shook my head. "It's not that simple, Jun. Your mother hates me. Your ex—he made me feel like… like nothing. And Seong…" I glanced at him, suddenly unsure of what to say.
Seong's expression softened. "I haven't been fair to you, Censia. I know that. I wasn't sure about all of this at first. I was scared. But Jun was right. You're a part of us now. I didn't realize how much I needed you too, until I thought we might lose you."
His words hit me like a wave, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. Seong wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and hearing him say something like that was enough to make me rethink everything.
Jun stood up, walking toward me. "I can't promise that it'll always be easy. But I promise you, we'll figure it out. Together."
I looked between the two of them, my heart pounding in my chest. Could I really do this? Could I trust them—and myself—enough to make this work?
Before I could say anything, Jun stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. "I love you," he whispered, his lips brushing mine softly, tentatively. I felt myself melt into the kiss despite everything, my body betraying my mind.
Seong stood up then, moving closer to us, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. "We both do," he said quietly.
For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.
I stood there, feeling the warmth of Jun's hand on my cheek, the softness of his lips brushing mine, and the steady presence of Seong behind me. I didn't know how to feel. I had locked myself away for days, convinced that I couldn't face them again, but now… standing between them, the intensity of their love surrounding me, something shifted.
Jun's kiss deepened, slow and tender, like he was trying to coax me out of my shell, like he was reminding me of that moment in the rain when everything had seemed possible—before the reality of our situation had crashed down on us. I found myself responding, my arms slowly unfolding from my chest to reach for him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if he was the only thing anchoring me.
But just as I started to lose myself in the kiss, the lingering doubts tugged at the edges of my mind.
I pulled back, my breathing uneven. "Jun, I…" I couldn't find the words. How could I explain everything I was feeling when I wasn't sure I understood it myself?
Jun didn't press me for more. He just stepped back, giving me space. Seong's hand was still on my shoulder, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I was afraid of what I might see—more indifference, more distance, more of the coldness that had made me feel like an outsider in the first place.
Seong finally spoke, his voice soft but steady. "I know this isn't easy. It's been hard for all of us. But you don't have to go through this alone, Censia. We're here. And we want to be with you."
I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall again. "How can you say that? After everything that's happened? Your mother—Jun, she hates me. And your ex…" I trailed off, the memory of that humiliating confrontation still fresh in my mind. The anger, the insults, the way he had made me feel like I didn't belong. "It's too much."
Jun sighed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "I know. My mother… she's complicated. She thinks she knows what's best for me, for Seong, but she doesn't understand us. I won't let her push you away, Censia. I swear."
Seong nodded in agreement. "She won't dictate our lives, Censia. We'll figure out how to deal with her. Together."
I let out a shaky breath, still unsure. "But your ex—what if he comes back? What if this happens again? I can't go through that again, Jun. I can't keep feeling like I'm on the outside of this relationship."
Seong's hand on my shoulder tightened slightly, reassuringly. "You're not on the outside. Not anymore. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way." He paused, his voice thick with sincerity. "I know I can be distant. I'm not as open as Jun, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I do. I care about you, Censia."
I glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all I saw was the same guarded expression that Seong always wore. Yet, underneath that, there was something else—something real. His eyes were soft, and there was a vulnerability there that I hadn't seen before.
Jun stepped closer again, his voice low and serious. "I know this is hard. But I don't want to lose you, Censia. Neither of us does."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and I found myself torn between the pull of their affection and the overwhelming fear of being hurt again. I had never imagined my life would turn out like this—caught between two men who loved each other and, somehow, loved me too. It didn't make sense. Not in the world I had grown up in. But then again, maybe love wasn't supposed to make sense.
I lowered my gaze, taking a deep breath as I tried to gather my thoughts. "I just… I don't know how this works. How any of this works."
Jun smiled softly, stepping forward again to gently take my hand in his. "We'll figure it out. One day at a time. As long as you're willing to try."
Seong moved closer as well, his presence solid and grounding. "We won't rush you. We'll go at your pace. But we don't want to lose you, Censia. You're important to us. To both of us."
I felt a lump form in my throat, emotions swirling inside me as I looked between them. They were offering me something that terrified me as much as it tempted me. A chance at something new, something unconventional but real. Something worth fighting for.
After a long moment, I finally nodded, my voice barely audible. "Okay. I'll try."
Jun's smile brightened, and Seong's expression softened in relief. For the first time in days, the crushing weight on my chest seemed to lift, just a little.
Jun pulled me into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around me protectively. I let myself melt into him, closing my eyes as I rested my head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, comforting, a reminder that maybe—just maybe—I wasn't as alone as I had thought.
Seong joined us, his hand resting lightly on my back, and for the first time, I didn't feel out of place between them. It was strange and overwhelming, but it was real.
We stood there for a while, just holding each other, the three of us in the quiet of my small apartment. Outside, the city buzzed with life, but inside, it was just us—our own little world.
Eventually, Jun pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting mine with a soft smile. "How about we get out of here for a while? Maybe go to our place, have a proper talk, spend some time together?"
I hesitated, but the idea of getting out of my apartment—out of my own head—was more appealing than staying here, drowning in my doubts.
"Okay," I agreed quietly.
Jun beamed and grabbed my hand, leading me toward the door. Seong followed close behind, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe things wouldn't be perfect. Maybe it would take time. But as I stood between the two of them, I realized I was willing to try.
And that, for now, was enough.
---
The next morning came with an unexpected warmth. I woke up to find Jun already out of bed, but the sound of quiet conversation in the kitchen told me I wasn't alone. I stretched, the events of the previous night flooding back into my mind. It wasn't perfect, but it felt… good. Better than I'd felt in a long time.
I climbed out of bed and wandered toward the kitchen, where Jun was standing by the stove, flipping pancakes while Seong sat at the table, reading something on his phone.
"Morning," I said quietly, not wanting to break the peaceful moment.
Jun turned to me with a grin. "Morning, beautiful. I made breakfast."
I couldn't help but smile as I walked over to him. "You didn't have to do that."
"Of course I did," he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "You've been through enough. Let me spoil you a little."
Seong glanced up from his phone, giving me a small smile. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make my heart skip. He was trying, just like me.
As I sat down at the table, Jun placed a plate of pancakes in front of me, then sat beside me, his hand resting on my knee under the table. Seong continued reading his phone, but every now and then, he glanced up at me, his expression soft.
It wasn't perfect, but it was progress. And for now, that was enough.
Maybe, just maybe, this could work after all.