:ㅤ(⌖)ㅤ𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃. 𝐈 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄. ⸻

• CHARACTERS 𓈒  ࣪  ִ Kian Ahn & Asani Kwasi
•TIMESTAMP 𓈒  ࣪  ִ May 9, 2025 [ post comeback ]
•W/C 𓈒  ࣪  ִ 2.3K words
•WARNINGS 𓈒  ࣪  ִ Kian once again doubting himself. Gaslighting himself into believing that he is healing which he is, but not fooling anyone about himself.
• SYNOPSIS𓈒  ࣪  ִ Kian being smothered with love by his best friend. Asani shows her best friend that she won't let him suffer in silence or let him believe that he isn't loved.

—

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? He knows it hasn't been longer than a few days since he talked to her. But how long has it truly been since he saw her face-to-face? Saw her smiling face staring back at him, trying to get him to smile.

Months right? Since Christmas? It's the fault of everything that's been going on. He usually would never forget something like that especially when it came to her.

He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning at nothing.
Was it too much to say he blamed it on his diagnosis? His avoidant personality disorder? Maybe? It's not like he'd been intentionally avoiding her. She was busy — a singer with her career to chase. He knew that.

She was supposed to be his best friend. His best friend.

The girl who forced him to play Barbies when he didn't want to. The same girl he punched a guy for in high school — and nearly got suspended over it.

Kian let out a sharp sigh and pushed away from the desk, the chair rolling back with a soft creak across the floor. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands tangled in his hair.

The phone sat there like a reminder, quiet and accusing, waiting for him to stop making excuses. Once again, he sighed reaching forward to take it when the screen lit up. He raised an eyebrow as he grabbed it, checking who texted him or better yet which app sent him a notification. But to his surprise, it was a message from her.

Sunbeam ☀️: Are you going to open the door or what?

He looked surprised. For a moment he didn't move until without thinking he was out of his room and at the front door of the house. No one was home beside him. His dad was at the coffee shop along with Yari. And god knows where his two older brothers are.

His bare feet padded down the hallway, the old floorboards creaking just enough to remind him he was alone. The house was quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the distant honk of a car passing outside.

He hesitated at the door for half a second, hand hovering over the handle like his body had to catch up to his brain.

The door creaked as he pulled it open — and there she was.

Asani stood on the front steps, hoodie zipped up to her chin, curls all over the place, thumbs still in the sleeves like she hadn't expected to be seen. For a second, she blinked at him — like her own message had played a trick on her. "Y-you're here? I hadn't expected you to be the one that answered the door. I thought I would have to explain to your dad again why I was here. But holy shit.....Kian." She spoke staring at him.

Kian blinked at her, stunned into silence for a second. Then a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hi."

She let out a shaky little laugh, half-disbelieving. "Hi?" he didn't know whether she was saying it back to him or if she was asking it like a question. "I was worried about you for chrissake! You hadn't bothered to answer my texts or my FaceTime, sure you answered my calls, but you didn't tell me what was happening. You didn't answer any other questions I asked you. I was just hoping that maybe your schedule was too busy but when I learned your group had to come back and you weren't on any of the stages or anything I was worried."

Kian blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I didn't want to worry you."

Asani's eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady. "You don't get to decide that for me. You're my best friend. My best friend since I was a tiny human, who was just starting to understand the world. You're the same person I learned to explore the world with. And so if you're feeling down or upset or anything I want to know why. I want to know if I can help you through that. But I can't if you don't let me in or tell me anything. And it doesn't help that we're both busy. You live in Korea here. I'm constantly working on new music here and there. Regardless of if you think I'm busy, I will always be there to listen to you rant or just talk about anything. Because you're my best friend and I'm never going to put something before you. I hope you know that, Kian Theodore Ahn."

Kian said nothing. Instead, he stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. The house was quiet except for the soft creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.

Asani dropped her bag by the door and pulled out the food she'd brought. They settled into the living room, eating in a comfortable silence that felt like its own kind of conversation.

After a while, Kian finally spoke, his voice low and steady. He told her about his mom — how things had gotten harder for her lately, how that weighed on him more than he wanted to admit. About the diagnosis, too — the avoidant personality disorder — and what it meant to feel like he was constantly pulling away even when he didn't want to.

Asani listened. Not interrupting. Just listening.

When he finished, she finally looked up, eyes steady and soft. "Wow, she hit the bottom of the barrel, didn't she?" She said rolling her eyes as she looked at him noticing him looking a bit unsure and tense. "I say I'm healed from it but what if I'm not? What if I'm avoiding everything because it's true? What if I.... don't deserve to be loved? I don't care. I don't need validation." He spoke as she paused looking at him with a solemn look.

Kian had her long enough to know when she knew he was lying or just saying stuff he didn't mean. He looked away running his fingers through his hair. "Don't look at me like that. I'm serious. I'm better. I don't care....what she thinks about me. She's not my mom anymore, Asani. I couldn't care less about that woman. I'm tired of wasting my time and energy when I'm not getting anything in return. I'm supposed to be her son for Christ's sake! Why do I have to fight for her love when it was supposed to be mine from the beginning? But you know what I'm happy for her and Nathan. I'm happy her new son gets that love. But screw it. I'm not the screw-up. She's a horrible mother and I hope that haunts her for the rest of her....life."

His voice cracked at the end, and he looked down, jaw clenched, fingers curling into the sleeve of his sweatshirt like he needed something to hold onto.

Asani didn't say anything right away.

She didn't flinch. Didn't try to shush him or tell him he was wrong or that she understood exactly — because she didn't. But she let the silence settle between them just long enough before quietly shifting a little closer on the couch.

"You're not perfect." She says slouching against the couch beside him. Her hand brushes against his, deliberate but unspoken, fingers resting just close enough to feel the warmth. "You've never been and you never will have to. So what if she didn't show you love? I know that's your mom but at this point screw her, Kian. She doesn't deserve you. You're the best thing that happened to your dad, your brothers....and especially me." She sighed, standing up slowly, then reached down and gently tugged at his sleeve. "Come on," she said softly, "let's get you off that couch."

Before he could protest, she pulled him up with her—steady and sure. Their hands found each other's, fingers intertwining naturally, warm and familiar. The small height difference made her have to stretch just a bit to reach him, but she didn't mind. Instead, she tilted her head up, meeting his eyes with a calm confidence that seemed to say, I've got you.

They stood there for a moment, hand in hand, the quiet in the room growing thick with something unspoken. His gaze softened as he looked down at her, and hers lifted to meet his, steady and unwavering. It was like the rest of the world had fallen away — no worries, no pressure — just the two of them, close and real.

Her thumb traced gentle circles on his palm, a small comfort that felt larger than either of them expected. And for the first time in a long while, Kian felt a flicker of peace settle inside him, quietly promising he wasn't alone. "I see you, Kian. All of you. And I don't want you to keep hiding from the people who actually love you back. So what if one person doesn't love you....so many other people do. I know I do. And will never stop loving you regardless of if you do something stupid or hurt my feelings. Kian I'm just tired of seeing you hurting because of a woman who doesn't deserve you. I want you to be happy and stop worrying about her because at the end of the day that will do nothing for you."

She took a slow breath, then stepped closer until her body was pressed lightly against his side. Her hand tightened around his just a bit, seeking more than comfort — seeking connection.

Without a word, she leaned in, resting her head gently against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. His arms wrapped around her slowly, holding her like a promise.

The room felt smaller, warmer — the silence now full of everything they didn't need to say.

"I don't want you to keep avoiding things just because of her. I want you to be Kian again. I want back the boy who used to help me put those brush out my curls, help me braid my hair even if you are a bit heavy handed. The one who made me laugh with his horrible jokes. The one who showed me that precious smile of his that he never showed anyone else because he was afraid they wouldn't like it. I want Kian back. My Kian back." She lifted her head slightly, eyes searching his, waiting to see if he still lived there somewhere beneath it all.

All she saw was tears. Her breath hitched softly as the tears traced silent paths down his cheeks. Without hesitation, she reached up, cupping his face gently with both hands, thumbs brushing away the drops she hadn't realized were falling.

"Kian," she whispered, voice thick but steady, "it's okay to feel this. You don't have to carry it alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, the weight he'd been holding shifting—just a little—as if finally allowed to breathe.

For a long moment, they stayed like that—connected, fragile, and real—two old souls finding their way back to each other.

—

The room was quiet again, the kind of stillness that came only after everything had been said.

A soft hum of the city filtered through the cracked window, barely noticeable over the steady rhythm of two heartbeats slowing down. The lights were off now, the room dim, washed in the soft glow of the streetlamp outside.

They lay side by side on his bed, shoulders just barely touching, both staring at the ceiling in silence. Neither of them had spoken since they'd curled beneath the same blanket, but there was no tension—only calm.

Asani shifted slightly, her curls brushing the pillow as she turned her head to look at him. Her eyes lingered on his profile, quietly taking him in. "Kian?"

He blinked slowly, still staring upward for a beat before turning his head toward her. Their eyes met in the low light, the space between them suddenly feeling even smaller.

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Yeah?"

She didn't say anything at first. Just looked at him — long and quiet — like she was trying to read the parts of him he didn't know how to say out loud. Then, gently, she reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from his forehead, fingers light, lingering just a second too long.

Nothing needed to be rushed. Not here. Not with them.

So she just whispered, "You're loved, I promise. Don't ever forget that." She leaned in slowly, the blanket rustling softly between them.

And then — a kiss. Light and fleeting, pressed to his cheek with the kind of tenderness that only comes from years of knowing someone's heart.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes one last time, then let her head fall gently onto his shoulder. Kian didn't move.

He felt the echo of her kiss still lingering warm against his skin, and something in him—something tight and tangled—finally let go. He didn't need to chase what was never his. Not anymore.

Not when he had this. A home that wasn't a place, but people. His dad, always steady. His brothers, chaotic but constant. Yari, who still lit up every time he walked in the room. Friends waiting for him back in Korea. And Asani—who never let him forget who he was, even when he couldn't remember it himself.

His mother had chosen her absence.

But the people who mattered had chosen to stay. And maybe that... maybe that was enough. He let his eyes close, the weight in his chest just a little lighter, and leaned the side of his head against hers.

Finally, he let himself rest.