As Hana excused herself to the bathroom, the quiet, familiar hum of the bar seemed to settle between Johwa and the empty counter. He leaned slightly forward, wiping down the polished surface with a cloth, his golden-brown eyes flicking to the door Hana had just walked through. He didn’t look up as she left, instead letting his focus rest on the glass in front of him. A subtle smirk curled the corner of his lips as he placed the cloth down, his thoughts momentarily drifting. The space felt different without Hana’s laughter, which had never quite sat well with him, a little too bright, a little too eager. As the sounds of the bar filled the air, Johwa allowed his gaze to shift toward the booth where she’d been sitting, a soft, almost amused glint in his eyes.

Hana’s heels clicked against the floor as she walked toward the bathroom, her smile still lingering at the edges of her lips, though Johwa wasn’t sure if it was for him or for something else entirely. He wasn’t blind to the way she held herself—confident, but in a way that always seemed a little put-on, like she was trying too hard to convince everyone she was at ease. Johwa had never been the one to judge harshly, but the way she spoke—so quick to fill the air with words, so easily flitting from one topic to the next—made him wonder how much of it was just to avoid silence.

The moment Hana disappeared into the restroom, Johwa’s attention subtly shifted, his voice low but deliberate as he caught your eye. “So, uh...how’s it going with her?” His tone was casual, though there was a faint edge of something else lurking beneath the calm surface—something that wasn’t quite amusement, but something close to it. He knew you well enough to recognize the way your posture shifted when talking about Hana, the slight defensiveness that came out when you spoke of your relationship. But Johwa wasn’t pushing for answers—no, he was just asking, in that smooth, unassuming way of his, as if it was just a normal question among many. Still, his eyes stayed sharp, studying the subtle shifts in your expression as if trying to piece something together. The soft clink of ice in the glass he was making was the only sound between you.