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Jeonghan wonders why he hasn’t gone insane yet.
The multiple emotions he felt in a span of less than a day was absurd. But then, he figured going from realizing his long-overdue fondness for his ought to be enemy, then crying at some park ‘til one in the morning, to sitting face-to-face with the same boy on a comfy couch was just as absurd.
Anyways, speaking of absurdity, Joshua seemed indifferent.
As if nothing happened at all.
As if they didn’t just argue in front of the very friends they hid everything from. And as if Jeonghan didn’t just confess over text to having things they had non-verbally but mutually agreed not to have: Stupid feelings.
Whether or not Joshua was playing the ‘pretend-everything-is-okay’ card—much like Jeonghan was—he wouldn’t know. The boy probably just had too much to drink and if that wasn’t the case, then he still wouldn’t know why Joshua would do that.
Okay, maybe he did know of one reason, shoving it at the very back of his thoughts and dismissing the slight ache it sent spreading across his chest.
He promised himself it was the last anyways, and if there was something he wanted his last with Joshua Hong to be, it was to be able to be with him, spent time with him, and love him without rules, without boundaries, and without those dumb accords.
If he can pretend that those really don’t exist (Fortunate for him, Joshua is already doing him a favor by acting the part) even for just this one time, then he will. For the last time, he will.
“Does it hurt?” Of course it does. But as Joshua reaches to touch his blood-stained lip with a pout casting his own, words laced with nothing but concern, he can’t help but stare, wondering if this was what it would have felt like to have Joshua as his boyfriend, like the real romantically-attached kinda boyfriend.
One could only wonder, they say.
“It does.” Jeonghan barely whispers, feeling the results of all the sobbing he did taking effect, he knows the younger still heard him no problem when the corners of his lips tugs downwards more than they already were.
“Stay here.” Joshua says, rummaging through their kitchen before disappearing into the dark halls to their rooms, he comes back with an ice pack and a small white kit. A remarkably obvious cross symbol embroidered on top, too obvious that anyone assuming what it was would think of the same thing.
Joshua sits himself in the same position as before, maybe an inch or two closer this time, something inconspicuous yet Jeonghan noticed, he always does.
He also noticed how close their faces were when Joshua softly pats his wound clean, how he can feel Joshua’s breath—which smelt a lot like artificial strawberries and alcohol—brush pass his chin and how the rim of his eyes tinged red, much like his, except his was visible even a mile away. “What happened? Umiyak ka ba?”
Joshua only snickers, eyes focused on the side and only on the side of his lip, though Jeonghan doesn’t fail to catch the astounded look he made for a split second.
“I should be the one asking you that.” He says as an answer instead before reoccupying himself with setting the ice pack onto Jeonghan’s skin, looking pretty unbothered about this whole thing, especially for what had gone down earlier.
Especially when Jeonghan did what he did and said what he said.
Shouldn’t he be mad that he had broken their pact or… sympathizing with how he can’t reciprocate his feelings back or… something, anything other than… this?
Jeonghan did want answers, though he couldn’t really bring himself to ask so bluntly. He settles for the assumption that Joshua indeed was playing dumb, ‘cause he was pretty sure he saw the little check mark indication for when the other line had already read the messages. And the mere thought of how Joshua knew how he feels, read the messages he poured his heart into yet still, still acting like he knew nothing made him feel a lot of things.
Nevertheless, he composes himself, refocusing on the mindset he had established for the night. Kalimutan mo muna, kalimutan mo muna, kalimutan mo muna, he chants in his mind, last na talaga ‘to . Intaking a deep breath like it was gonna hex him into forgetting kind of worked… in a mental sense at least. As if this day didn’t happen, as if he didn’t just have the biggest heartbreak of his life, in a blatantly concerned mumble, he finally seizes the courage to ask. “Ba’t ka umiyak?”
“I didn’t, what are you—”
“Ba’t ka umiyak?” Jeonghan reiterated.
Joshua halts, detaching the coldness from numbing Jeonghan’s lip and finally meeting his gaze with a sigh. “Why did you ?”
“I asked first.”
With an eye roll, he gives up trying to dodge his question and as seconds gradually fly by, his demeanor softens at the recollection of the events from earlier. “I feel… really bad, for not doing anything when Wonwoo did that to you.”
Joshua brings a careful thumb to Jeonghan’s face, making his skin tingle under his touch as he gently traces around his wound with utmost care. Seeing a physical reminder of something he felt really guilty about wasn’t helping at all, knowing he can’t really undo what was done. “I’m really sorry, Hannie. You got hurt tuloy and it’s pretty much my fault.”
Jeonghan chuckles. “Umiyak ka kasi nasuntok ako?”
The younger sends him a glare, the idea of slapping the smug grin off his face was tempting, but he slaps his arm instead. He was lucky he had that bruise. “Not just ‘cause of that.”
A fond smile is all Jeonghan responds with, too occupied with watching the way Joshua was pouting to listen to him rambling, scrunching his nose up and sustaining an angered look meant to warn him but does nothing except widen his smile. Adorable.
Maybe this masochistic idea of his wasn’t that bad.
“—Anyways, long story short, it wouldn’t have happened if I just agreed to do your stupid dare, and I would have if I wasn’t mad at you.” Joshua proceeds, turning away to reconsider his words. “O-Okay, maybe I still wouldn’t have but the point is, it’s your fault.”
“Oh, kala ko ba ‘pretty much’ sa ‘yo.” Jeonghan snickers, but furrows his brows soon after the other part of Joshua's babbling which quite frankly, he wasn’t able to comprehend since he was busy with staring, sinks in. “Teka, galit ka sa ’kin?”
Joshua doesn’t answer, his ears flushing cherry red from the rage caused by the bitter memory. Well, he looked more embarrassed than angry, to be honest. And Jeonghan looked more perplexed than sorry. “Anong ginawa ko?”
“I don’t know.” Joshua crudely says, “Go ask that girl who watched your game which by the way, you also didn’t tell me about but whatever, who am I to complain right?”
And it clicks, the brain magic spell thingamajig really did seem to do the trick because Jeonghan may or may not have forgotten about that. He spouts the brightest smile he has ever had in quite some time. Unfortunately, a smile only Joshua Hong could evoke, it seems. “Ahh, si Sam. Sige, siya tanungin ko teka.”
Jeonghan acts to reach for his phone from his back pocket when Joshua audibly huffs in disbelief. He was on his feet before Jeonghan could even grab the tech, attempting to walk away from the situation. Though very much failing to do so when Jeonghan tugs him by the wrist, making him fall back down on the couch, supposedly the couch that is. Not when Jeonghan positions himself to make him land in the comforts of his lap instead.
“Seloso ka pala?” He teases with a laugh as he wraps his arms firmly around Joshua’s waist, caging him in, because one—in case he tries to walk away again—and two—just because he can. He tries to ignore how neatly his hand fits each crevice, like their bodies were made for each other.
Instead he watches as Joshua avoids any form of eye contact by burying his face into the nook of his neck, too embarrassed to face him, the bridal-style position he was in wasn’t helping either. If he can’t get away (he wasn’t trying to) then might as well make the most of it, ‘cause in all sincerity, he missed this.
Jeonghan missed this.
Being wrapped in each other’s warmth, the feeling of butterflies floating about in his stomach, not a care to the outside of the world he created in his mind just now. Just the same moon that comforted him, the stars that sang to calm his sobs, the night that witnessed the endless stream of his tears, him, and Joshua.
And though they don’t say it verbally, they know, staying in each other’s arms, drowning in the comfort that is silence and Jeonghan’s little circular rubs on Joshua’s lower back was more than enough than the mere words of ‘I miss you’.
That’s when Jeonghan starts to hope that maybe there’s still a way, maybe they can resolve this, and maybe Joshua will return his—He halts the train of thought before it can lead to anything. He opts to get rid of the pointless ideas getting to his head by ironically distracting himself with the subject of said pointless ideas.
In the softest tone, he mumbles. “Why were you jealous?”
“Can I be honest?” Joshua responds in the same gentle way.
“With me baby, always.” Jeonghan barely witnesses how Joshua blushes in the dimly-lit room, seeming to process the endearment he hadn't heard in a while, and well, Jeonghan couldn’t help but bite back a grin.
“I wasn’t really jealous…” Joshua defends when he manages to collect himself, pausing in between to rethink his words. “Okay, maybe a little, but I was more scared than jealous.”
Jeonghan listens attentively, ceaselessly stroking spirals on Joshua's skin as assurance for him to keep talking, to comfortably open-up to him. It brought him solace and he was certain it did Joshua as well when his tensed shoulders loosened.
“I was scared that…” Joshua hesitates, something about the way his gaze falls to his hands rather than directly into his eyes tells Jeonghan it was bothering him a lot. Whatever it was, he appears to be having difficulty putting it into words when he opens and closes his mouth, before finally settling with an easier response. “Nevermind.”
He shifts to sit beside Jeonghan rather than on his lap, creating some space between them, which Jeonghan fully understands and doesn’t take offense from.
“Shua.” Jeonghan coos. “You know you can always tell me anything, right?”
“Yeah, No, it’s—” ding!
Joshua was interrupted by a familiar chime, perhaps a cue from the outside world that Jeonghan was talking about. It sounded a lot like a notification alert and by instinct Joshua whips his head around to find the source.
“It’s mine, ‘wag mo na pansinin.” Jeonghan deadpans and urges Joshua to carry on where they’d left off, wanting to seize the chance of Joshua finally opening up to him.
“Well, I—” ding! Another follows through. “You should check that.”
“Okay lang, mamaya na.”
“Jeonghan, it’s two in the morning, it could be an emergency.” Joshua holds a stern expression, his one of many covert acts to get his way under any circumstance. And true to words, Jeonghan obeys, reaching for his pockets and quickly skimming the words through the preview of his lockscreen.
Joshua didn’t mean to pry, really, only catching a glimpse of Jeonghan's apparently very familiar wallpaper before it fades back to black and he says, “Nope, kaibigan ko lang.”
“Wait, what’s that?” Joshua looks at him with a curious glint in his orbs, brows furrowed the slightest. Jeonghan turns his phone back on without giving it second thoughts, the bright light from it shining vibrant shades of purples and greens on their peering faces. “Isn’t that… isn’t that my old painting?”
“Oo.” Jeonghan casually responds, too casual, Joshua thinks so.
Joshua only grows more confused despite receiving a clear answer to his question. So he delves it up with another, “Why do you have a pic of that?”
“Kasi pinicturan ko.”
Joshua clicks his tongue at his nonsensical reply. ”Well, I know that, but why did you take a picture is what I’m asking.”
Jeonghan carefully examines his face first before anything, it was similar to the looks he got from his friends when they asked him about his ‘unique’ —he knew they meant unsuited for a personality like his—choice of wallpaper, undoubtedly wondering the same thing Joshua probably is now. Usually he’d shrug it off and say nothing, but it was Joshua this time, so he takes a moment to recall the old memory. It takes him a while though, reconstructing words to form the story he was about to tell. A simple story he never once told, not known to anyone but himself.
A totally unbiased exception this one time wouldn’t hurt, he figures.
“Remember the first time we met? Pumasok ka dito, basang-basa kasi umuulan n’on and then… introduced yourself as my new dorm mate, may bitbit ka pang canvas na nakabalot, mas malaki pa sa ‘yo… I wondered nga kung bakit eh.”
Jeonghan unconsciously lets a tiny smile decorate his face, the fondness in his eyes doesn’t falter when he continues. “I asked myself bakit? Why go through the hassle? Pero n’ong iniwan mo muna ‘yung painting mo dito sa labas at pumasok ng kwarto mo, I took a glance para tingnan kung anong laman and then I realized… I realized kung bakit mo siya binitbit kahit gan’ong ka-hassle ‘yon sa byahe. And that’s when I snapped a pic.”
The stillness of air from before resumes, and Jeonghan watches as Joshua’s expression changes ever so slightly, processing the words that left his mouth. When he eventually does, his expression falls into a scornful look. “You still didn’t say why—”
“Nagandahan ako,” Jeonghan doesn't let him finish his sentence, a chuckle following suit when the younger sends a raised brow his way. “Sa painting… pati sa gumawa.”
It takes Joshua a second or two to comprehend, visibly flushing as warmness spreads across his cheeks, a weak smack to Jeonghan’s chest was something he deserved. “Liar, you hated me.”
“Me?” Jeonghan scoffs, though the beam of his lips doesn’t disappear. “Baka ikaw, wala pang one week, sinusungit mo na ‘ko. Tsaka, why would I even hate you?”
“Ask yourself ‘cause I'm pretty damn sure that painting now has a very elementary-like sharpie drawing of a dick that even has an angry face on it.” A sarcastic grin adorned Joshua’s face, a sour memory taking the better of his emotions. “An angry peepee. Who else could have done it if not you, huh?”
“I would never do that to you, anong bang tingin mo sa ‘kin?” Jeonghan defends calmly, suppressing a laugh at Joshua’s unexpected vocabulary, the tone of his voice contrasting Joshua’s riled up one.
“Then why do you have a picture of it before it was vandalized?”
“I told you, unang araw mo pa lang dito kinuhanan ko na. After that wala na, I remember going to basketball practice kasama si—” Jeonghan cuts himself off as realization dawns.
Joshua notices his abrupt halt, “Who?”
“I… I think I might have a solid clue as to who, kailangan ko munang i-confirm though.” Jeonghan composedly explains, shifting in his seat. “I really didn’t do it, and I’m sorry that happened to you. I loved that painting, maybe not as much as you did but still, I took a pic pa nga kasi I found it beautiful eh. You trust me naman ‘di ba?”
He could practically see the cogs turning by the look on Joshua’s face, somehow throughout the time they spent together, he was easier to read. Easier to understand, compared to before at least, and it induces the warmest, smallest smile in him when Joshua nods, “I do.”
“Wait, is that why you hated me?”
“Yeah…” Joshua admits, quite embarrassed himself. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed—”
“No, it’s fine.” Jeonghan was quick to assure, he figures if it was the last night to be able to talk to Joshua like this, then might as well clear some ill feelings. “Teka tangina? All this time, we could’ve been friends. Gulat ako ang sungit mo bigla sa ‘kin, nanahimik lang naman ako.”
“I’m sorry na nga.”
“Hinde, I forgive you naman, it’s just funny to think na what we started as wasn’t even our own fault. Pero since we’re at it, I’m sorry rin na I went overboard a few times, but believe me when I say na hindi ko sadya ‘yung tinamaan ka ng bola.”
“Oh yeah, I remember.” Joshua’s eyes curve into crescents, moving to sit closer, putting the weight of his dazy head on Jeonghan's shoulder. “You have no idea how much I mentally murdered you in ways I never even considered possible.”
“Ang brutal mo naman.” A teetered laughter echoes through the room.
“As if you didn’t do the same thing.”
“Never.” Jeonghan proudly denies, “Though I did undress you in ways I never even considered possible.” Jeonghan mocks, laughing at the way Joshua scrunches his nose in disgust but still succumbing into the light laughter alongside him.
Maybe Jeonghan was being hopeful when the thought of being splayed across their couch in lazy limbs, hustled close together but not quite cuddling like this could be a routine between Joshua and him. Desperate, even, when he badly wishes it to be reality. But when the laughter dies down, silence replacing in its stead, he comes back from the imagery, hopes dissipating into nothing but the quiet air. Realizing yet again, and again, that they could never be, not when Joshua wasn’t on the same page.
Jeonghan clears his throat as if it would clear his fuzzy mind. “Did you uh… had fun with your friends?”
“Hmm.” Joshua hums in agreement, lids falling shut, probably feeling the drowsiness brought by the deep night kick in. “They tricked me into drinking a lot. I hate them.” Joshua chuckles, the last sentence flying out of his mouth like a reflex more than a sentence he actually thought through. “But I feel a bit better now, I think.”
“You think?” Jeonghan chortles incredulously at his self-doubt, especially in a sentence like that. He receives a feeble shove on his shoulder from the latter’s own.
“Shut up.”
They fall into soft fits of laughter once again, at a volume only they could hear, but it doesn’t last longer than the one before.
“Speaking of your friends pala…” Jeonghan starts, hesitant. His fingers play at the sleeve of Joshua’s shirt to somehow distract him from everything else. “Ayoko makialam pero sinuntok ako eh, ‘di joke lang.”
Joshua frowns, still feeling responsible for the bruise he had acquired, but he stays silent, probably too tired to talk as he settles on watching Jeonghan fumble with the hem. “You do know that Wonwoo guy likes you, right?”
“Wonwoo?” Joshua cocks a brow to the side, confused but not quite. Something tells Jeonghan the younger knows a lot more than he lets on when the question doesn’t surprise him. “He’s just… a really protective friend.”
The childish urge to laugh and do a little goal celebration like they do in soccer was strong, but the thought of himself being seen as much less than a really protective friend to Joshua makes him stay grounded. His label wasn’t any better.
“It takes one to know one.” A slurred mumble from under his breath couldn’t quite reach Joshua’s ears, then again, Jeonghan didn’t want it to reach his ears.
“What?”
“Wala, ang sabi ko, ba’t ‘di mo patulan? He seems like a nice guy, for you, at least.” Jeonghan displays a sarcastic smile, nodding slowly as if he was compelling him to when in reality he wanted to do quite the opposite. Something courageous, coming from him especially.
Though unlike him, Joshua has his own blunt way of handling such situations. “Are you jealous?”
Jeonghan almost chokes on thin air, “Huh? No—“
“You sound jealous.”
“Hindi nga—“
“You are.”
“Am not—“
This time he was cut off by a pair of lips on his, too short for him to react but sweet, the slight tug on his bottom lip was a detail he couldn’t miss. And if that didn’t make his heart skip a beat, Joshua leans in to whisper in his ear, like a child telling a magical secret. “Don’t be, you’re the only one I kiss like that after all.”
To say he wasn’t flustered-which is a rare occurrence coming from the usual doer himself- would be the biggest lie, he was stunned. Having Joshua inclining into his chest, pretty dark-brown eyes looking up at him through his lashes with that pretentiously innocent little grin wasn’t helping with getting rid of the burn on his cheeks nor calming the rapid beating of his heart.
Was this the consequences of finally unraveling buried feelings?
Being well-aware—no, hyper-aware of it?
Soaking every nanosecond spent with Joshua Hong like it was his lifeline?
‘Cause it definitely felt like it.
It reminded him of the night it all started.
The similar serenity of the deep, cold night, the same dimly lit living room with only a lamp casting a warm light on the side of their faces and even the alcohol clouding his mind, overtaking his system—only this time it was overtaking Joshua’s. And of course, the exact couch where everything occured.
It was really just like their first.
But this time it was gonna be their last.
And as Joshua slowly caves in, alluring aura surrounding him as he pushed him to lean on the armrest, eyes dead set on his lips, he knew deep down he didn’t want it to be.
Jeonghan didn’t want this to be their last.
Joshua was so close, so close that Jeonghan didn’t know he was holding his breath. His heart was beating a million times per second, afraid that Joshua would hear how fucking in love he was with him. Oh God, he never felt this way, he didn’t know what to do.
It felt like hours and hours had gone by, merely staring into the depths of each other’s eyes.
Before finally, finally their lips touch and Jeonghan instantly falls into a hazy trance, he lets the moment last, engraving every second of it in his mind. They kissed a lot, but somehow this time felt different, so different. In a slow and steady pace, he moves against Joshua’s lips like he was a valuable artifact, slow and delicate, carefully cupping his cheeks to fit into the palm of his hand.
He could feel the sting on his lip, as if reminding him what he was supposed to be doing and it definitely wasn’t to lay there with Joshua hovering on top of him, letting him do whatever he pleases. Letting him capture him with a kiss so enticing he forgets about everything else. This wasn’t right. But the thought of breaking it off immediately goes over his head when he feels Joshua’s tongue push pass his lips.
The sweet and unhurried pace earlier long gone when Joshua straddles him, tilting his head to angle their faces just right. One second more and Joshua’s hands find their way to his scalp, tangling, and pulling, and running it through the softness of his hair.
Their lips don’t separate for more than a second, eagerly mending back together when they shift slightly. Repeatedly, again and again, until they eventually run out of breath. Short and rapid pants ensue, and all Jeonghan could do was lean his forehead against Joshua’s, too exhausted to even open his eyes.
He could hear the younger breathe heavily, the scent of strawberries and some alcohol somewhere within much more prominent with their faces so close. “Strawberry candies don’t cover up the smell of alcohol that well, babe.”
“I wasn’t trying to cover it.” Joshua replies, puffing as he slides a sly hand under Jeonghan’s shirt. “It was for someone who loves strawberries.”
Jeonghan can’t help the broad smirk forming, a light chuckle escaping his mouth at Joshua’s cunning words when the boy presses their wet lips together once again. His restless hands burning the skin under Jeonghan’s cloth, while the older settles to tighten his hold on his waist, pulling him until he’s all squeezed up against his chest, every inch of their heated bodies touching.
And he wonders if Joshua could feel his heart pulsing like them making-out was a first.
Wonders if he was the same.
Their lips part and as if programmed, Jeonghan latches onto Joshua’s neck. He was no artist, but painting the smoothness of his skin with contrasting rough, open-mouthed kisses as his medium was an expertise of his he’ll proudly brag if he could. Sucking on an obvious spot wasn’t something he’d usually do, but for the sake of pissing Joshua off when he wakes up next morning, reminding him that this happened, that they happened, he does so with a sly smirk.
Maybe it’s the way Joshua subtly kisses the top of his hair while he trails feather-like kisses on his collarbones, or the way he purposely brushes his fingers against his or maybe, maybe it was the way his sparkling eyes looked deeply into his, somehow telling him to stay, to be with him, to love him. Maybe all those led to a hopeful thought, a thought that maybe there is a way. A way to not end this at all.
A way where it involves Joshua Hong and the off-chance of him liking Jeonghan back.
He knows it was a huge gamble, but it was a game he was ready to lose.
More than ready, even.
“W-Wait—” peck “Ba—” peck “Shua, teka teka.” Jeonghan pulls away, hands holding Joshua back by the shoulders. When Joshua finally looks at him in confusion, gaze still heavy, he glides his hands upwards to hold his face in his hands, making him look straight into his eyes. “I-I want to tell you something.”
Shit. He swallows hard, the sudden pressure of confessing right then and there getting to his mind. And when Joshua stays there, watching him with an impassive look, he contemplates backing out. Contemplates telling him it was nothing and carry on.
It wasn’t like he had a shot, right? If he did, even the slightest, Joshua wouldn’t have done nothing at the bistro. If he did, Joshua wouldn’t hide what they have. If he did, he’ll know that Jeonghan was struggling to hold onto a mere agreement. If he did… he’ll know.
That’s it, this was a bad bad idea. Nope, he wasn’t gonna confess. Good for Katniss Everdeen but the odds weren't in his favor at all! Oh god , why would he even think about confessing when all he was holding upon as assurance was Joshua calling him baby one time, maybe two, okay whatever, oh and the fact that Joshua was jealous… not that it translated to love or anything close but—you get the point, there’s no way on earth he was gonna confess—“I like you… a lot.”
He takes a moment to process what he just blurted out, and when he does, he curses himself internally. He was a mess, mind all fuzzed up, his hands quivering. Something he didn’t even experience once in a game of basketball, yet somehow experiencing right now. Joshua Hong does a lot of things to him, it seems.
But like he said, he was always ready to lose before the game even started.
And when all this is over, at least he can say that he tried, right?
Fuck it.
“Who am I kidding?” Jeonghan shakes his head, feeling like his heart will come out of his throat everytime he opens his mouth. “Mahal kita, Shua, m-matagal na. Not as a fuck buddy or anything else… but as you. As the one who I got to know, the one who… loves to paint his feelings instead of showing them, the one who keeps me up all night, the one who has this… tough-guy facade pero baby naman ‘pag kami lang.” Jeonghan chuckles, voice almost in a whisper. “The one I find comfort in.”
“Jeonghan—”
“‘Di ko sinasabi ‘to para ma-pressure ka or ano… but it’s really been fucking up my mind, and… and I—”
“Jeonghan—”
“—I know we agreed to—”
“Jeonghan!” The intensity of Joshua’s voice makes his world stop. “I know.”
He has this shame and remorse, and sadness divulging from his expression that makes Jeonghan dread listening to what he has to say next. “I read your messages. And I know… you don’t mean any of that. Listen—Jeonghan, you’re just infatuated. You’re just drunk. This isn’t what you really feel—”
“Tangina.” Jeonghan whispers incredulously. He lost.
The familiar sting on the brim of his eyes emerges again, he looks up and tries to blink away the tears he desperately didn’t wanna show, especially not in front of Joshua. “I wish, Shua. I wish I wasn’t sober, n-na sana ‘pag gising ko, makakalimutan ko na lahat, ‘tong putanginang feelings ‘to mawawala. Pero h-hindi eh, hindi gan’on kadali ‘yon, Shua. ”
The silence was deafening, and here Jeonghan thought his eyes couldn’t produce more tears by how much they already did this night. It was exhausting to cry, let alone to cry because of the person that brings him comfort most. And if that happened, what then?
“Jeonghan, I’m sorry.”
He questions how two simple words could strike that painful ache in his chest. It felt like his whole being was being torn apart, tears uncontrollably falling in ringing silence. Stinging him like an arrow to the heart, breaking it into shards he knows will never be able to mend back as good as it was. Perhaps it was because he knew what the apology meant, behind those mere bitter words were a lot more, but even then, he never knew it would hurt as much hearing it from Joshua himself.
He was ready to lose, sure, but he definitely wasn’t ready to feel the loss.
And much like their first night;
He walks away.