Work Text:
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“minnie?”
“yeah sungie?”
“look at those! they’re hydrangeas! that’s my favorite flower!”
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maybe jisung should have noticed in seventh grade that minho wore long sleeves a lot. maybe he should have noticed the bandaids lazily thrown on his wrists, or the faint markings.
if he did notice, maybe minho would have stayed.
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minho found it cute that jisung would sketch hydrangeas on his homework, or draw them on his arm.
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minho hated how he was able to find something to hurt him even more. he didn’t know that was even possible.
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minho hated this. everything. the one person he loved didn’t know. he didn’t know how much the words “you’re my best friend” hurt. they weren’t supposed to hurt.
jisung didn’t know how much it hurt minho when he said “i love you.” minho knew that it wasn’t the same.
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i love you
i’m in love with you
minho hated that one little word could change everything.
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it broke minho’s heart to not be able to see jisung everyday like he used to. he knew that the other would move on though. minho knew that the one he loved deserved better.
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it was getting worse.
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june eighth.
11:23 pm.
shaky hands wrote a note.
sobs.
minho wanted to end this.
his head hurt.
ibuprofen would do it? right?
he felt nothing.
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my sungie,
hi. if you’re reading this, obviously something has happened. it’ll be really embarrassing to say all of this is i survive.
i don’t want to survive. not just because i will have to face you, but because i shouldn’t be alive. i’m sorry, i was never the one to be fighting. i just want to rest.
don’t blame yourself. i have felt like this even before you came.
i shouldn’t write much. you always said i was easy to read. maybe you’ll understand then. nevermind. if i was that easy to read, you should have seen this coming.
i love you. not in the “i’m your best friend” way. more. i’m a coward, i know. yell it to the sky please, i still want to hear your voice after i’m gone.
with love,
minho
p.s. don’t do the same thing i did. i want you to live.
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jisung hated this. he hated the way he didn’t notice.
he hated the way that the note was written with shaking hands. he hated the way that he could see drops on the crumbled page.
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most of all he hated the way that a bouquet of hydrangeas laid on the floor of minho’s abandoned apartment.