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“Would you hate me if I left Jeju?”
They’re sitting beside one another, arms and legs touching, feet dangling over the side of their favorite spot beside the Cheonjiyeon waterfall. The rock itself is rather small, too small for the two of them to have enough space, but they make it work. They don’t mind the skin contact. If anything, it feels natural.
The sky is slowly dimming, finally revealing the vast expanse of stars above that twinkle down on the two below. It’s quiet tonight. All of the tourists are gone because the park is closed; instead the locals come out of hiding, eager to enjoy the scenery they live amongst every day but seldom get to appreciate.
Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo. The younger won’t look Chanyeol in the eye, instead preferring to gaze up at the stars, but Chanyeol knows he’s fighting with himself. He can see the way Kyungsoo’s eyes waver, drifting back to the left on their own before Kyungsoo has to reel them in again, steer them back on track.
He looks down into the water, watches a koi fish startle and disappear into the depths once Chanyeol realizes it’s nibbling on his toe and shifts his foot away. The surface of the water ripples, but soon it calms and the night sky is reflected back at him. The stars are extra bright tonight; the moon is new, the sky is clear, and the air is still. It helps Chanyeol to remain calm despite the sense of dread creeping out from the edges of his mind.
“I don’t think hate is the right word…” he eventually manages, and when Kyungsoo finally turns to look at him, suddenly he can’t meet his wide stare.
“Then what is?”
Chanyeol huffs. “Disappointed?” he guesses, not sure of the answer himself. Kyungsoo leaving Jeju? The thought had never even occurred to him before.
He sees Kyungsoo frown out of the corner of his eye. “Chanyeol…”
“Are you actually leaving or is this just a hypothetical situation? Because if it’s hypothetical then I’d rather we stop talking about it.”
Kyungsoo swallows thickly. “My parents found better jobs on the mainland. We need the money, Chanyeol. We can’t keep living here when the bills are as high as they are.”
It wasn’t the reason Chanyeol was anticipating, but it hurt nonetheless. It was true that Kyungsoo’s family wasn’t exactly the most well-off; if anything, his family was the poorest in the town. More often than not Chanyeol witnessed Kyungsoo walking into the local food pantry, food stamps clutched tightly in his hands. It was typical for Chanyeol to give up half of his lunch to Kyungsoo at school, not that he minded anyway. And his parents often brought prepared meals over to the Dos, no matter how many times Kyungsoo’s parents insisted they didn’t need them.
On the contrary, Chanyeol’s family was one of the richest. The house they owned used to be their vacation home before they began to live on the island fulltime. Chanyeol had pleasant memories of visiting the island during the summer months and vague recollections of his Jeju friends being jealous that he came from the big city.
Chanyeol was a foreigner, a tourist. A transplant.
Kyungsoo was the native.
It didn’t seem right that he got to stay while Kyungsoo had to leave.
Kyungsoo shifts uneasily in his seat. The silence is deafening but Chanyeol doesn’t know what to say. He never really was good with words, that was all Kyungsoo.
“Believe me,” Kyungsoo begins. “I don’t want to go. But we don’t really have much of a choice.”
“You could move in with me,” Chanyeol blurts. Immediately heat rises to his cheeks when Kyungsoo gives him an incredulous look. “You can have our spare room. That way you can stay. You won’t lose all of your friends. You won’t have to leave.”
You won’t have to leave me.
For a second it looks like Kyungsoo might actually agree, but as soon as he lets out a heavy sigh Chanyeol knows it’s useless.
Something in his chest cracks then. He feels a heaviness set over him, an unbearable weight begin to crush his shoulders. Vaguely, he registers that his lip is quivering, and it takes every last ounce of his energy not to burst into tears. The comforting weight pressing against his leg suddenly vanishes and leaves a cold void in its wake. Kyungsoo turns away, absentmindedly rubbing his arms as if trying to keep warm.
“We already have someone lined up to buy the house. If they go through with it, we’ll be moving out by next week.”
Chanyeol’s mind is reeling. His eyes unfocus and his vision blurs as he stares into the rippling water below him. The world feels like its crashing down around him and he focuses on the hardness of the rock he sits upon in a desperate attempt to cling to any semblance of stability. He feels Kyungsoo’s stare piercing the side of his face—he’s expecting a response, but all Chanyeol can manage is a quiet “Oh.”
Kyungsoo sighs and digs the palms of his hands into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, practically a whisper.
“I love you.”
It slips out of him before he can think twice and the silence that follows is deafening. Chanyeol instantly regrets saying it, feels a giant lead weight drop in his stomach, and opens his mouth to brush it off and pretend it didn’t happen, but when Kyungsoo’s hand darts out and clutches his tightly, he changes his mind.
“I know.” Kyungsoo replies, almost disappointed.
He finally gathers the strength to look Kyungsoo in the eye. What he finds is raw sorrow and pain. It matches what he feels stirring around in his gut, slowly eroding him away from the inside. His breath hitches. “And?”
“And I wish I could stay with you.”
Chanyeol isn’t satisfied. “And?” he presses.
Kyungsoo’s frown deepens. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“And?”
His brows furrow in confusion. “And what, Chanyeol? I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You tell me you’re disappearing from my life, I confess my feelings to you, and you can’t even say if you feel the same way or not?” He’s irrationally angry, he knows. Kyungsoo doesn’t owe him anything, but the feeling of never knowing is a kind of pain he doesn’t want to experience.
Kyungsoo looks away, ashamed. His eyes glisten and reflect the night sky. “It’s only gonna hurt if I tell you what you want to hear.”
Chanyeol pulls his hand away abruptly. He scrambles to get upright, the twisting dread in his stomach making him feel queasy. He suddenly feels too hot, the open air too close against his skin. A fuzzy feeling begins to flood his mind.
“I want to hear the truth,” he chokes out. He needs to hear it. He needs this feeling to disappear.
A hand shoots out and grips his wrist painfully tight. Kyungsoo hauls himself off the rock until he’s standing face to face with Chanyeol. He never loosens his grip as he stares into Chanyeol’s eyes, pleading.
Suddenly, he’s enveloped in a hug. Kyungsoo nestles his face into the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. His breath is hot against Chanyeol’s skin and it sends a jolt of electricity shooting down his spine. Goosebumps raise across his entire body and he stands rigid, too afraid to hug Kyungsoo back.
“I love you too, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo breathes, a hint of tears in his voice, and Chanyeol smiles ruefully.
“You’re right,” he says. He raises his arms and wraps them around Kyungsoo’s torso, rests his chin on Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he watches a meteor sail through the sky before blinking out of existence. There’s an ache in his heart that he knows he won’t feel someday, but for now he lets it consume him, lets it tear him apart. “It does hurt.”