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Ever since, the day the love of my life died, my whole world crashed. I was the one to blame, if only I hadn't tried so hard she wouldn't be dead right now. If only I had stopped her from sacrificing herself for me, I could've saved her but it was too late.
I couldn't save her so it's all my fault for not trying hard enough for her. The day she died was the day my whole being left with her. As my days go by after the rebellion saved me, hyuna and I have gotten closer in more ways than one. She kept me company every time I was down and held me when I was broken. Sometimes we would go drinking and things would escalate a bit further than what I intended. With every touch I always think to myself
This isn't betraying sua isn't it? I'm just grieving. I'm not replacing her, she's still the one in my heart. This is just temporary
Hyuna can never compare to the lips that sua pressed against mine, never compare to the way sua and I danced with each other under the sheets, not with her rough gestures, her lips clashing against mine while she kisses me desperately after we had too many to drink, not with the way her touch repels my skin because it feels like betrayal towards the love of my life. We both know were grieving the one we love and it feels wrong to do this constantly whenever we feel desperate.
The next morning always felt heavier than the night before. The silence would creep in first, slow, suffocating, replacing the laughter, the clinking of bottles, the way Hyuna’s voice tried to fill the empty spaces in my head. I’d wake up with the same thought clawing its way back to the surface
She’s still gone
Hyuna would still be there sometimes, sitting at the edge of the bed, back turned, shoulders tense like she was holding herself together by a thread because she knew she was falling, she never intended to but it was hard not to with the way mizi treated her and the way she always smiled at her like she was her world. But she knew she was just a replacement, that mizi never truly saw her as her but saw sua in her eyes.
Other times, she’d already be gone, leaving behind nothing but the faint smell of alcohol and something bittersweet I couldn’t name. We never talked about what we were doing was wrong in so many ways.
Not about Sua.
Not about what we were doing.
Not about how every touch felt like both comfort and punishment.