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Jisoo met him in college.
They were the same age, born on the same year but the other male was born on October 4, a birthday fitting for an angel. Yoon Jeonghan, perfect and ethereal angel from the heaven flitting here on earth, majors in business administration whereas he majors in a pre-medicine course. Firstly, they were classmates in some minor subject Jeonghan was behind at, and everything felt easy and right between them. It felt like they knew each other for years. Yoon Jeonghan was charming and easygoing; he was an enigma that made everyone look at him and be in a trance. There was never a dull moment when they talked, and they almost both have the same interests. They would study together and would group in assignments and projects—it became an automatic unspoken thing between them.
It’s not like Jisoo didn’t enjoy it.
He loves it.
He loves the attention Jeonghan gives him, even when they’re just walking and Jeonghan stops to brush his hair away from his face or send him memes in chat. He loves it when Jeonghan puts an arm on him, or leans on him too closely while he reaches out for the milkshake on the table.
It wasn’t that hard to fall for somebody like Yoon Jeonghan, and Jisoo was living proof of it.
Jeonghan does him first one night in a party.
He isn’t very drunk that much yet, just enough for Jisoo to feel buzzed and slightly dizzy when he moves too fast or too drastic. Jeonghan just finished a conversation with one of the varsity players, and when he walks towards him Jisoo feels like everything is in slow motion. It was cliché, but Jeonghan makes him feel like he’s inside a movie.
“You fine? You look pale.” Jeonghan tells him, as he puts a hand on Jisoo’s neck feeling it.
“I-I’m fine.” he almost chokes up on the words, and the back of Jeonghan’s palm is still there.
Jeonghan adjusts his hand, gently holding him by the neck and Jisoo’s mind is short circuiting.
The room feels hard to breathe in, but Jeonghan gives him the air he needs when the older male pulls him in and kisses him deeply. He smells like alcohol, a whole lot of it, and tastes of it—as well as eagerness and hunger.
He gives in too easily, with his resolve being out the window the moment Jeonghan’s lips crash into him more than waves in the ocean lapping the shore. He melts a little bit the more he touches him.
It feels electrifying, and Jisoo feels a million tiny light bulbs flicker open inside of him.
Even though during the day they are not together, at night their bodies are intertwined—where Jisoo’s mouth would desperately call on to Jeonghan’s name as he grips the sheets tightly. Jeonghan’s sweat trickling down bit by bit as he moves skillfully on top of him, and even in the middle of such a thing Jisoo thinks he’s beautiful. Even as he explodes inside of him, after he reaches his high, and they spend the rest of their night lying down on the bed, Jeonghan fast asleep just like he usually is after coming—Jisoo feels lucky, grateful.
That he’s there.
That he’s with him.
That he gets to feel him skin against skin.
That Jeonghan needs him.
He smiles in his sleep knowing that he’s somebody relevant in Jeonghan’s life.
He sits on Jeonghan’s lap on one of the fortunate times that he gets to have extra time with him.
Jeonghan is reading some article on his phone, while he plays with the strands of Jeonghan’s hair.
“Massage my scalp.” Jeonghan asks of him and he does, playing into Jeonghan’s request. Jeonghan closes his eyes and leans back, making little sounds whenever Jisoo would press on a certain part on his scalp.
Jeonghan then pulls him in so he can bury his face on Jisoo’s neck, and slowly inhales him.
Jisoo’s hairs raise and he shivers a bit from the gesture.
Jeonghan is whispering sweet nothings in his skin, and he closes his eyes to tattoo it in his mind. The more he talks, the more Jisoo feels that he keeps falling in a pit. The more Jeonghan’s hands caress his thighs or leaves soft kisses on his neck the more he couldn’t crawl back up to the mainland.
Jeonghan keeps on taking him to his own world, and Jisoo wants him to. He lets him.
If you ask Jisoo anything about Jeonghan, there’s probably only a little amount of percentage of probability that he wouldn’t be able to answer. The things he knows are not only literal stuff seen by any other eye, but also things that Jeonghan probably didn’t even know about himself. That was how confident Jisoo is about knowing Jeonghan.
Everything came easily for them, their chemistry flowing like silk in the wind. Time flew like that as well.
Time passes by so fast, and suddenly it’s senior year and he and Jeonghan are on their last year of university now, which means Jeonghan finally caught up on all the subjects and minors he was taking–in conclusion, he had less daytime for Jisoo. It was fine by him. They texted each other, and Jisoo also has classes he had to tend to, so he was also preoccupied. However, there are times when he missed Jeonghan the most, especially when he felt weak and anxious about things. Jeonghan was his pill, the only thing that would ease and relax him.
His friends were there, and they could do so much to distract him, but by the end of the day it’s Jeonghan who he craves for—who his heart and body longs for.
It’s a very rainy Sunday morning and he’s sick, and he stays the whole day in bed.
He feels horrible, his head is pounding and his nose is clogged, his whole body is freezing on the inside but his skin feels hot to touch, and his whole body feels heavy that it literally drags him down. He already threw up the contents of his stomach and he couldn’t bring himself to get up and cook or even drink his medicine.
He falls asleep and wakes up only to muster the energy to drink water, then pass out again. It happens numerous times that Jisoo has already lost his sense of time, and the next time he wakes up Jeonghan is standing beside the bed, squeezing a small wet towel from a basin.
“You have a fever. I wish I could’ve come sooner.” Jeonghan says to him, before putting the damp towel on his forehead. “You should’ve called me, but ah—it might’ve been hard—nevermind.”
Jeonghan gives him food and medicine and looks after him even as he continues passing out and waking up again.
He wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to, but the words run dry in his mouth when Jeonghan asks him if he’s feeling better, or that if there’s anything that he needs. It was another side of Jeonghan he has seen just now, and it’s something he felt that was so genuine about it. He wants more of it, undeniably.
Jeonghan would always tell him he is busy, and that he doesn’t have time—but the moment he does, Jisoo eagerly lets him in the room in their apartment and lets him have his way. They move as if they haven’t seen each other for years, and they long for each other as if it was physically painful to be apart.
Jeonghan would always be a bit too excited, and Jisoo likes it when he’s like that. He likes thinking that Jeonghan missed him so much that the thought of already just being with him makes Jeonghan physically feel like he’s on fire and Jisoo is the water that can put him out of this suffering of being eaten alive by the flames. He returns fervently, showing Jeonghan how much he missed him instead of saying it. Actions always spoke louder than words, especially with Jeonghan.
Jeonghan was talkative outside of their circle, but when it’s just them he would always usually speak less—it was with Jisoo where he could only show his real self, where he can unwind down and not pretend to be something or someone else. He didn’t have to impress Jisoo, or be classy with him or refined. He never felt the need to justify himself with Jisoo, because the younger would always welcome him with open arms.
Hong Jisoo loves to think that he is a safe haven for Jeonghan, and maybe he is.
“Who’s Yoon Jeonghan dating now again?”
“Who’s that?”
“The son of the senator?”
“I think he just dumped that philosophy major girl? They didn’t even last a month.”
“I thought he dated that guy from liberal arts?”
“Oh, he dated that guy. They lasted for 2 weeks. The first half of the month.”
“The same time as the theater girl?”
“Yup.”
“Wasn’t he dating that guy, from where was it? The dude with the perm?”
“My friend went to their shared class. She said they looked like good friends.”
“Good friends could translate to boyfriends.”
“I think he dated the pre-med dude. Anybody who gets near Jeonghan is bound to be his victim. It’s not a stretch.”
“I vaguely remember his surname starts with Hong.”
“He’s such a playboy—“
“It’s so fascinating that he’s always had dated people who never even realized they were sharing Jeonghan with like, 2 or 3 people tops everytime.”
“I heard he goes for the quiet aloof types.”
“He’s a horrible guy. I would avoid a guy like that if it comes for me in a 100 mile radius.”
“Don’t speak so fast, Jeonghan might catch you as a victim next.”
“I heard from the rumor mill that he’s really good in bed.”
“I bet you also heard from the rumor mill that birds can’t fly.”
Jisoo pretends he doesn’t hear. It's getting harder though.
His fists are clenched tightly as he tries to focus on his paper in the coffee shop. He has his airpods on, but it’s been so long since it was actually playing music. His breathing is heavy and shaky.
He wanted to defend Jeonghan, or say something for his honor.
But what does he say?
Jeonghan never made it clear what they were. They only did what they do.
Jeonghan has never told him his feelings for him, but he made him feel a lot of things beyond his imagination. Jeonghan talked about the most mundane things with him and told him some of his secrets, the same way he held him in his arms and run his fingers in his hair.
He feels lied to and cheated, but at the same time he thought if he has the right to be. They were never anything. There was no label. But he allowed it to go this long, because every time he sees Jeonghan his eyes are blinded, and his mind is clouded.
Suddenly everything about them was vague.
He felt as if suddenly he didn’t know who he was. What he is to Jeonghan.
“What are we?” he musters the courage to ask the next time they meet. Jeonghan is putting on his clothes while Jisoo wraps himself with the blanket on his bed. Somebody called Jeonghan for an urgent thing that he couldn’t put off—and Jisoo can’t stop but think of the girls in the coffee shop and how they talked about Jeonghan.
He has never doubted Jeonghan before. But now, there was an inkling of something, a crack in the concrete wall.
“Hmm?”
“What are we? The two of us?”
“We’re fuck buddies.” Jeonghan doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he says it, tugging on his jeans so he can zip it up.
It’s not like Jisoo expected anything else to be said. It was Jeonghan.
“Why are you suddenly asking?”
“Nothing.”
“Did someone ask you about us?”
“No, nobody did.”
“Good. What happens between us stay between us, okay?” Jeonghan stands in front of him, shirt half untucked and hair still mussed.
“But why?” he almost whispers.
“I don’t want them to ruin this good thing that we have.” Jeonghan says simply, sincerely in Jisoo’s ears. The older male reaches for his hand and holds it and gives it a little squeeze before he lets go and finishes dealing with his clothes.
When Jeonghan leaves and Jisoo is left alone spent in his bed, he doesn’t cry. Even though he half expected that he would.
Instead of tears, there was a heavy weight in his chest pinning him down.
He has always believed and clung to everything Jeonghan said and promised ever since they met. He trusted him with every fiber of his being. But now that a line has been drawn, it feels as if he is on the other side of the road, and Jeonghan is driving on the opposite.
Jeonghan will have to keep on driving, moving forward—while he’s nothing but a hitchhiker who nobody wants to pick up from the side of the road.
He goes to the brightest place he could find in the district that night, and drinks himself to oblivion.
He wants to forget, at least for a while.
He tastes his own salty tears— finally— mixing with the burning alcohol. He drinks bottle after bottle, until he couldn’t feel his own legs and he can barely open his eyes and carry his own weight. The bartender takes his phone from his pocket, telling him he’s calling speed dial.
He jerks awake when somebody holds him by the arm, and he cracks open his eyes to see Jeonghan assisting him in standing. He briefly talks to the bartender, and Jisoo is way too drunk to function.
“Why did you drink so much when you can’t handle yourself drunk?” Jeonghan chastises him as he walks him to his car. “You look like shit, Jisoo.”
“B-because—you—you did this—“
“I did this to you?”
“Yes.”
Jeonghan doesn’t talk on the drive back, or maybe he did, and Jisoo just couldn’t hear. Just like how he’s purposely avoided hearing things he didn’t like sometimes. It's much better that way.
Jeonghan invites him to a party for his graduation. He graduates earlier because he has a different semestral tim eframe than Jisoo’s pre-med course.
It’s in his house, a huge mansion atop a hill overlooking most of the city. There are a lot of people, mostly Jeonghan’s batch mates from his major. Jeonghan introduces him to a bit of his friends, and even goes so far as dragging him to see his room.
“I’ve never brought anybody up here. Except you.” he proudly boasts as he opens the door for Jisoo and it’s a big room, but not as excessive or lavish as the rest of the house. It’s very simple and aesthetic. There is a huge glass window that overlooks the city, and it’s beautiful.
Everything is so, Jeonghan about it.
When he looks back Jeonghan is sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You like it?”
“Yeah I do. It’s pretty.”
“You know who else is pretty tonight?” Jeonghan smirks as he asks.
“Who?” he asks, even though he kind of knew what the answer was already.
“You.”
“I’m not pretty. Nothing of that sort.”
“You downplay yourself too much. You’re perfect.” Jeonghan tells him as he places a hand caressing Jisoo’s cheek. He takes a sharp inhale when Jeonghan’s hands move up, sweeping his bangs away from his face.
“I’m sorry. If I hurt you.” Jeonghan whispers, as if he’s scared the words will break as he says it.
They have sex on Jeonghan’s bed that night, taking their time doing it. Jeonghan holds his hands and kisses him gently as he whispers Jisoo’s name—and it feels like the first time, when they met, and he began falling in a Jeonghan shaped hole.
“I won’t leave you if you don’t leave me.” Jeonghan whispers in his ear when he spoons him after, and he gives out a nod in reply.
There is suddenly a possibility, a newly attached light bulb of an idea, a percentage of probability that Jeonghan is feeling the same way towards him. It will take time, he thinks, but he was always good at waiting.
Now that Jeonghan wasn’t attending university anymore, Jisoo felt very detached from it. He has to spend more weeks, months , without Jeonghan’s presence in the campus anymore.
He went to classes and talked to people when they talked to him first, but he was mostly just buzzed in anticipation to go back to his apartment and wait for Jeonghan. The older male's full absence from the campus has made him realize that he wasn’t that much involved or attached to studying, or the people in it. Even his circle of friends from before seemed far away, and Jisoo doesn’t know how to salvage it—or if he even should.
He tries to get through the last few weeks in peace.
He has made a new friend in a form of Lee Chan, a freshman math major who he always ate lunch with since they share the same floor in the apartment complex. He hasn’t told him about Jeonghan yet, and he’s still debating internally if he should. Jeonghan is a precious somebody to him, not just any other person—and he wants to treasure him as much as he could.
“Jisoo hyung, don’t you have a love life? Friends?” Chan asks him one time they were doing homework in the coffee shop across their apartment.
He nibbles on his lip debating whether he should say yes or no—but just ends up smiling vaguely.
Sharing Jeonghan and what Jeonghan means to him is off the table this time.
“Who was that you always hung out with on campus?” Jeonghan asks him when they finally meet up. Jeonghan has a job already, having a senator as a father—it wasn’t that hard for him. It never was for anything, to be quite honest. “I still have eyes and ears on you.”
“Chan?”
“So, it has a name.” Jeonghan says it like he has eaten something bitter, and it left a lasting taste on his mouth.
“We’re friends.”
“Friends.”
“Seriously. He’s a freshman who lives in the same floor that I do. There’s nothing between us.”
“There better not be.” Jeonghan spits out, as he loosens his tie.
This was the first time Jisoo has seen him like this, it’s as if he was jealous.
“Are you jealous of him?” Jisoo asks, trying not to hide the hint of excitement inside of him. Jeonghan! Jealous! Two words that keep on looping on his head that seemed so foreign before but is right in front of him at the moment.
“Why would I? When I know I have you here with me now? Come here.” Jeonghan beckons him to come towards him and he does, just like always. Jeonghan kisses him as he cups his face with one hand, while the other goes down to explore him. He has always loved the way Jeonghan ravishes him and takes him, and when Jeonghan goes to suck on his neck he throws his head back giving him more access.
It's enough for Jisoo, but then again mostly everything Jeonghan related is. If there was anything else to address that time, it had already long been gone in Jisoo's head.
Jisoo’s graduation day comes up and his mom and uncle flies from the states for it. It was fine, he missed them so finally getting to be with them again is comforting. Jisoo still has to go to actual med school after this, so it’s not like his journey is done already.
Chan is also there, and he gave him a graduation present.
Jisoo keeps on looking around, waiting for one particular person to show up. He’s still actively in touch with Jeonghan, and the older promised he’d be there. Jeonghan never breaks his promises.
He waits until it was nighttime. He tries calling him but nothing comes through. He sends a hoard of text messages even as he ate with his mom.
Are you coming?
Where are you?
Text me back.
Are you still coming?
Call me.
Can you at least tell me if you’re fine?
You promised.
He doesn’t reply when Jeonghan texts him to come over.
Jeonghan tries calling him and he rejected every single one, even going so far as turning his phone off. It’s better that way.
He’s cleaning in the apartment when somebody knocks on the door, and when he peeks on it Jeonghan is standing, wearing a suit and looking upset. He stands by the door, not knowing whether to open for Jeonghan or not, but then he remembers he should be upset at him, so he holds it in a bit more, going back to the floor he was sweeping. Jeonghan’s knocking is getting louder, up to the point where he’s almost banging the door.
“Why weren’t you opening the door?” Jeonghan steps in inside even though he didn’t let him in, and Jisoo just goes after him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why weren’t you answering my calls?”
“Why weren’t you answering my calls and my texts that day? Not once, Jeonghan did I ever ask for something from you. It’s one thing. Just one thing. Just because you promised me, and you broke it.” he’s shaking from anger as he yells at him, and his emotions are beginning to build up like a volcano. “I deserve an explanation.”
“I had an emergency meeting.”
“That’s it? That’s your huge explanation?”
“Not the whole world revolves around you Jisoo. I have work and my life that I need to tend to.”
“Don’t you think I don’t know that? I was just asking for a miniscule thing.”
“You don’tᅳ”
“It’s always been about you Jeonghan!”
“That is not true.” Jeonghan points at him, and he swipes it away from him.
“All this time I’ve turned a blind eye to the things that you did, and did everything you pleased, and when I wanted you to be with me it’s the time you weren’t even present. I don’t ask for something expensive or grand. I don’t need luxury. I don’t need whatever material thing you can afford. I only wanted you.” Tears are streaming down his face as he clenches his fists on his sides, and Jeonghan is staring at him. Jeonghan scoops him for a hug, his lean body encapsulating his frame, keeping him warm.
“I’m here now okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I broke my promise. I’m here now. Don’t cry.” Jeonghan repeatedly tells him as he strokes his back, calming him down. “You’re important to me, okay? Don’t ever think otherwise.”
“I’m important to you?” he repeats.
“Yes.”
Jisoo tries, he really does, but resistance is futile and his walls always come crumbling down and resolve crushed when it comes to Yoon Jeonghan.
His plan was to work for a bit for the break as he prepares for the entrance exams, and successfully he gets a part time job close to where Jeonghan works.
Everybody is nice to him, and they treat him like an equal. He works the whole day and Jeonghan would come to pick him up from the office most times so they can eat out and then go back to his apartment. Sometimes they bring food in and eat there, spending their time together.
One of his co-workers ask him if that was his boyfriend picking him up, and he has to politely smile at him and say he’s just a good friend.
Which is true. Partially.
He never asks about Jeonghan’s love life. He doesn’t want to hear and know. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It’s not like Jeonghan volunteered to tell either. It’s a silent agreement between the two of them. He likes to think that he isn’t dumb, and that all of this will pay off for him in the future.
He and Jeonghan seem like a domesticated couple, yet they are not. They only fuck around, and act like really good friends. It’s not even acting for Jisoo anymore. He’s gotten used to it.
It’s okay. If it’s for Jeonghan it’s okay.
Recently, the older has been getting warmer, sweeter like creamer on coffee. It reminds him of their old days, and the light bulb inside him flickers relentlessly. When Jeonghan’s touches linger longer, when he gives him an extra kiss, when they talk longer than they did under the sheets, Jisoo feels euphoric. He soaks every second like a sponge, every touch and every word. If it was something that materialized itself, he would have probably put it in a special box and kept it safe from everything and anything.
Even after all this time, the hope is still alive in himᅳand he knows this small light could become something big and bright between the two of them.
He holds on to that.
That’s why he always chose to stay. If somebody asks himᅳ if Jeonghan asks himᅳ he wouldn’t bat an eyelash to say he would stay.
He doesn’t know how to comprehend it.
It doesn’t make sense to him, but at the same time it does.
He wants to throw up, and so he does, in the bathroom, twice. He feels sick in realization, and the pain in his chest is blooming to a tenfold.
Jeonghan doesn’t even have the decency to tell him in person. He sends it through a text message, without any further explanation like they never had something going on for so long.
I’m getting married. Please don’t contact me anymore. I’m sorry Jisoo. I really am.
It comes like a boomerang out of nowhere. Jisoo is shocked beyond belief.
Of course. Of course he's getting married.
He even had the audacity to apologize, and Jisoo has already thrown his phone at the wall in rage. He throws anything that he could see, plates, books, figurines, as if it had any difference and it would change everything.
He’s mad but at the same time disappointed and upset, and his throat is already clogged up beyond comprehension. He’s desperately gasping for air as he wails. If he probably cried himself to death that time it wouldn’t probably make a difference to him.
He should’ve known better to ask Jeonghan a little bit more, or improve himself in bed, whatever it would’ve taken it for him. Jeonghan knew his whole world, everything about him, but he barely knows a fraction of the things that orbit Jeonghan and his life. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he lacked. Maybe he brought it upon himself. Maybe he deserved this shitty life.
It doesn't take him a lot, before he can get to the hall where Jeonghan is getting married.
He's not invited. If it mattered at all.
Everything looks sickeningly perfect, that he hid behind a column for so long. He’s shaking, and it's clear that he doesn’t belong there. He can't relate to anything he is seeing. People in suits, people who look like they are important somewhere. Lavish accessories, and jewelries twinkling when lights hit them. A world different from his.
Jeonghan has kept him in a bubble between the two of them, perfectly isolating him from contaminating everything else in his life. He has always been a smart man.
He takes a peek at the hall, where people are happily talking to each other and eating and cheering for the married couple. They’re celebrating a happy marriage. Jisoo is mourning for himself.
Jisoo sees a woman, pale and pretty, who has her arms linked with Jeonghan. He wants to scream, he wants to yell at her and maybe pick a fight, but he doesn't. Instead, he focuses on Jeonghan, tall and lean wearing a suit while talking to the guests. Jisoo feels like he’s barging in on another person’s territory, but when he sees Jeonghan’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, he feels grounded.
Jeonghan was his ground, the stable earth who he moves on. But right now, the ground is shaking, shifting away from his footing, and he’s fallingᅳwhile the ground stays as it is.
Jeonghan locks eyes with him, and there is a flash of alarm, then he whispers something to his wife, and she lets him go. Jisoo watches as Jeonghan makes his way to go to where he is, and when he’s in front of him Jeonghan gestures for him to go out. He follows, moving to where Jeonghan is lightly pushing him. His touch is electric still to Jisoo, even in a situation like this.
When they’re outside, it’s empty and nobody else is around.
“Why are you here? I told you to never contact me again.” Jeonghan is furious, gritting his teeth at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I knew you would do this. What else did I expect?” Jeonghan says like it's a matter of fact. Like he really knew Jisoo would go into hysterics and pull off something like showing up to his wedding venue uninvited and try and cause a scene. Jisoo suddenly feels the lack of trust.
“You’re not answering my question.”
“You’re not answering mine either.” Jeonghan shakes his head. “Just leave. Don’t call me or text me.”
“Why her? How long?” he asks still, solely for the purpose of trying to find a flaw on it so he can get back Jeonghan. Maybe pleading works.
“Does it matter? Her family is rich and has connections. My father wanted me to strengthen the ties. I have so much to lose.” he sounds impatient now. “Seriously, leave. You have no place here anymore.”
“You don’t mean that. Jeonghan.” he says in a voice that he himself doesn't recognize. But really, who really is he without Jeonghan?
“I do, Jisoo.”
“I love you. I always have.” he knows he is desperate, and Jeonghan knows it all too well. What Jeonghan doesn't know is that he really means it, from the bottom of his heart peeled away from the walls of that pumping vessel stripped raw and offered to him unconditionally.
He loves him, and all Jeonghan has to say is that he feels the same. He has to.
“That doesn’t matter anymore.”
"But did it matter before?"
"I could easily get you in bed." Jeonghan doesn't even bat an eyelash when he was quick to answer the question.
"Was it always about that?"
"What else? I told you. We were what we were, and we did what we did. There was nothing more than that."
It's cruel, and it comes out exhausted. Like Jeonghan had been wanting to tell him this the whole time, but for some reason he hasn't. Maybe to save Jisoo from eternal damnation.
He can’t stop the tears from his eyes as he reaches out to grab Jeonghan by his arm.
“Did you ever even feel something for me after all this time? Did you ever even love me?”
“What do you want me to say to you?” Jisoo knows Jeonghan is getting impatient. He wasn't the most patient person on earth, even a minor inconvenience erroring three times in a row would be enough to throw him in a fit. Jisoo wonders if Jeonghan's wife knows that; things that only Jisoo knows and notices.
“The truth, Jeonghan. Don't lie to me, I just want the truth."
Jeonghan firmly takes his hand off him.
“I have never.” Jeonghan says nonchalantly. "I don't love you Jisoo." As if it were that easy. Maybe it was for him. But for Jisoo it wasn’t.
"Not even once?" he pushes, his voice almost a whisper that he can barely hear it himself.
“Don’t ever pull off something like this again. I’ll report you to the police.” is what Jeonghan responds to him.
Jeonghan goes back to the hall, not even sparing him a glance. He feels minuscule, shrinking down to the smallest particle. Everything feels numb, and his eyes are blurry. The very same eyes that are not blind but unseeing. All this time. Every step equates to a painful jab in his chest.
So he walks. He doesn't know to where, and why for, but he walks.
At some point he crashes into something, and he thinks he falls but all he's feeling is a numb sensation that started from his fingertips travelling to the rest of his body. He knows this one. When there is a lack of oxygen in the body, the blood vessels become either blocked or numb. People who smoke or get nicotine one way or another in their system experiences this situation, but for him instead of cigarettes it was Jeonghan.
He has had so much of him in his system that it is clogging every crevice of him, his body, his mind, his whole existence.
Chan spots Jisoo just outside their apartment complex. He still has his backpack on from lessons, and he calls on to Jisoo but he doesn’t seem to hear him. He jogs over to where he is, sitting in one of the benches overviewing the park.
“Hyung.” he calls to him, but Jisoo is unresponsive.
He leans down to look at the older male who seems to be looking at something. He looks but finds nothing particular, just a field.
“Hyung.” Chan shakes his arm, but then sees blood on his hands that came from the older.
Jisoo’s arm is profusely bleeding, and his torso is also blood soaked. Chan tries to inspect if there are any bullet holes in his shirt (shooting isn't rampant in Korea, but Jisoo is really bleeding enough to the point that Chan thinks he got shot)
“Hyung what happened? Let’s get you to the hospital. Hyung. Look at me.” Chan pats Jisoo’s cheek urging him to look but Jisoo doesn’t seem to hear or feel him at all.
Chan tries to carry him alone with all his might, but Jisoo doesn’t even try to bear his own weight. He’s like lead, and the lack of effort made Chan lose his balance. The younger male reaches out for his phone and tries dialing one of his friends.
“Did you hear that?” Jisoo croaks out. He sounds so distant, even though they're just beside each other.
“Hear what hyung?” Chan says as he presses his phone against his ear, hoping one of his friends picks up before he decides to call 911.
“He said I was important to him.”
“Who said? Hyung. You’re bleeding. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“He said he’ll never leave me if I don’t leave him, so I didn’t.”
"What are you saying hyung? Who were you talking about? Hyung?" Chan asks him but Jisoo just stares.
Jisoo used to have dreams as he slept before.
He would dream that he was back in LA, but he was in the desert.
He’s not a human in this dream. He’s a tree. A Joshua tree.
Instead of hair he has leaves or what seems like it, and instead of arms and a body he has a series of ugly twisted branches. His whole appearance itself seems to be cactus like, and it's usually what people would consider as ugly because they don't have a pretty outer shell or aesthetic looking branches.
There are pretty trees, and there are ugly trees.
Jisoo thinks a Joshua tree is one of them.
But what matters is that he needs not be tended to, nor does he need water or food or feel emotions. He lives on, because that’s how he is meant to be.
Jeonghan would be a porcupine in his dream, small and pointy. He would approach him and envelop him in a hug. His pointy body does not hurt Jisoo, but neither does Jeonghan feel hurt from the thorns he has. He would dream that they were meant for each other.
Jisoo would always wake up from it, but he always wishes one of these days at some point he doesn't.
He'd rather be a tree.