With Love, From the Other Side of the Apocalypse | Full Fic Preview
pairing: sunwoo x f.reader
rating: M (for suggestive and violent themes) | TW: death, blood, and zombie-decaying bodies
words: approx. 5590
genre: angst, romance, post-apocalyptic!au | childhood friends-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers, slow-burn
summary: When the world came to an abrupt end, the years you spent avoiding your hometown and those who came with it after graduating high school fell kaput. After months of solitude, you find yourself packing what you can and driving for days just to get back. Unsure of what you expected, you find yourself having to confront the mess you left behind. You're no stranger to a broken heart. Neither are they. You're the one who broke Sunwoo's heart, after all.
a/n the original one-shot I posted months ago can be found here // a teaser to the full fic I'm writing for E's 26th birthday !
Before the world ended, it always felt like there wasn’t enough time to spend as you liked. Yet, there always seemed to be plenty of time to be stuck in a plague of your own thoughts.
After the world ended, there was plenty.
Still, what with the world just having ended and the living, human population having been drastically reduced (not to mention the places you had wanted to visit were no longer easily accessible), you found that you still couldn’t spend your time as you would have liked. That left you with too much time. Time to think about food, water, about shelter, and medicine. But, above all, it left you with time to fester with thoughts that all began with a ‘what if.’
It meant you had time to think about your ex.
Before the world ended, you were able to ignore everything and anything that had to do with him.
It hadn’t been easy. You’d left home right after graduation for early freshman integration courses. You’d blocked his number and social media accounts. You’d even cut off your friends because they had been friends with him too.
But now you had time and no classes, assignments, or people to veer your thoughts in any other direction they could.
You’d tried stocking up on food, water, any supply you could think of. But, the outcome was always the same. You were alone.
You were alone, and yet, he was always there.
There was no avoiding him now. Every time you closed your eyes, he was there. Sweaty and still clad in his dirty soccer uniform, strands of his bangs clumped together and pressed against his forehead. He waited for you outside the classroom the teachers had chosen for tutoring that day. He leaned against the wall across the door, backpack slung over his right shoulder.
You always woke up in a cold sweat just after he came into view, and you pushed open the door only to lock eyes with him.
You shook those thoughts away quickly. It was easy. You just reminded yourself of the many years that had passed since you last saw him. And, if that didn’t work, you thought about the possibility of finding someone else just as alive as you if you went outside.
Eventually, that stopped being enough, and instead of shaking the thoughts of him away, you found yourself wondering how much he had changed before the world ended. How much older did he look? Did he still have the same impish look in his eyes he had when you started dating? Had he—
Whether you shut your eyes or not, your thoughts wandered, and he was always there, waiting for you. Sometimes he was the snot-nosed little boy that glared at you every time your moms stopped to talk to each other outside your elementary school’s pick-up gate. Other times, he was the tousled-haired, sweaty, high school sophomore that liked to pin you against the trees of the little forest behind the school’s soccer field after school and kiss you shyly under its shade.
His hooded eyes opened, and his bruised lips parted as the two of you tried to catch your breaths. The smirk that shaped his lips as he brushed his nose against yours taunted you.
Remembering the way he looked, remembering him, came far too easily.
It made you want to scream.
When the world came to an end, you found yourself at the laundromat, folding the clothes that had just finished drying. It hadn’t taken you long to notice that something was wrong, and when you finally saw blood begin to fall, you shoved the rest of your clothes into your duffle and ran.
At that point in your life, it had only been a pair of months since you finally graduated with your degree from university. It had only been a pair of months since you moved to a neighboring city instead of going home.
You hadn’t been sure you’d ever be able to go home, then.
You spent days moving from store to store when the world ended, hiding in break rooms and manager offices, only moving as much as you dared on each day until you finally made it home. It would be little to no exaggeration to say that you practically blacked out the moment you left the laundromat.
The only thing you could clearly remember was the moment you twisted your key into your apartment’s lock and stumbled inside.
Months had passed since that day, and you had yet to find another living soul. Thoughts of the boy who had broken your heart were the only solace you could find, even as your heart twisted at the memories.
Had he died? Where was he when died? With who?
You wondered, was he still friends with your friends? Had they managed to stay together?
You clicked through the pictures buried deep in your memory drive, finding pictures you swore to yourself you’d deleted.
You wanted to go home. You missed it.
But could you do it? Could you make it home?
You spent days questioning whether it was a good idea or not. It wasn’t. But, if you went home, what were the odds you would find anyone still alive?
Going home meant seeing all the people that had raised you dead and zombified. The friends you had cut off, the ones that had decided to study closer to home— would you be able to face them, dead or alive? And if he was there too?
What if he had gone home before the world ended? What if he’d been there when the world ended? Were you ready for your first encounter with him after the break up to be now? Now that he was a member of the undead?
The thought of it sent you reeling.
Still, you found yourself packing your clothes and toiletries into your large suitcase, stuffing everything else you couldn’t bear to leave behind into another. At last, packing all of your food, medicines, and first aid kits into duffle bags and crates, thinking about the distance you needed to cover to get to the nearest car dealership and own your first car.
Once you were there, you took all the keys you could find, frantically hoping one of them belonged to a car bigger than a sedan. Luck was on your side, though not without choosing to frighten you at first.
As you attracted more and more attention from the undead, cars blaring to life as you pressed the unlock button on each of the key fobs hoping you were near its pair, you found it was the last key you tried that belonged to a larger SUV.
You raced home, leaving behind the zombies you had amassed and half-eaten bodies of the dead, and pools of dried blood you were sure were going to follow you into your dreams.
Stragglers followed you on the way home, and you dared to hope that there wouldn’t be any on the lawn of your apartment building. There weren’t, but the same couldn’t be said about the lawn of the building across from your building or the street between the two.
They followed you as you parked, daring to block the doorless entry to the building with the right side’s passenger doors. After a few trips between your apartment, your car, and two zombies in the hall across from yours that you managed to slip past later, you had all of your things stuffed into the backseats of the car.
You could fix them into the trunk later, you told yourself.
That’s how you found yourself, weeks later, two towns away from your own, walking down the aisles of a quaint mid-sized market, pulling cans of fruit and frozen meat into a basket.
You’d spied the market from the gas station where you’d stopped to refuel your car. It was risky, but you’d taken the four refillable, red gas cans you spied and filled those too.
A thunderstorm had reached the town by the time you reached the store, and you parked haphazardly in the lane directly across from it, making sure the driver’s door faced the entrance.
You were soaked from the multiple trips back and forth you made. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care much. Not when the cold was helping keep the ice in the meat cooler from melting quicker. Or because the thunder and lightning that struck practically stunned the undead for minutes.
Inside the store, the silence unnerved you. Thoughts of what you’d find when you got to your hometown plagued you. The undead, undoubtedly, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stay there for long. Or, at the very least, you wouldn't be able to leave your parent’s house for a few days, weeks if the food held out.
You bit your lips as you walked down the aisles, contemplating the idea of grabbing spicy chips— or maybe barbecue— before continuing on your way.
Thunder rolled as you turned the corner and were forced to a stop like one of the zombies roaming outside, your heart caught in your throat.
He stood at the end of the aisle next to the one you had just come from, a backpack hanging from his shoulders and a duffle bag in his hands.
He stared at you, the same big brown eyes you remembered wide, a bandage on his cheek, and his lips parted in surprise.
There was a bag of bread in his hands, and he clutched it, his fingers digging into the slices and mushing them together.
“Y/N.” He whispered first.
You gulped.
Lightning struck outside.
“Sunwoo.”
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[I]
You had to be an idiot. There was no other way to explain what had compelled you to agree to follow him back to your hometown and to the rest of your once-friends. The look he had given you when you’d agreed. The way he had swallowed and said nothing afterward was enough to know he hadn’t been expecting you to agree, either. You were beginning to wonder what he’d been planning to say to convince you when he proceeded to shove the bag of bread into his duffle bag, then a few more from the shelves without turning away from you, that the thought disappeared just as quickly as it had formed.
Then he nodded to you as if he were asking you to lead the way. You supposed he was because you couldn’t conceive what else he might be trying to say.
The trek to the exit doors, the same ones you’d come through, was silent beyond the sounds of the storm. Without meaning to, you both stopped once you’d taken a step outside. Side-by-side, you both stood under the store’s protruding roof, sheltered from the rain.
Thunder boomed again before he struck a thumb toward the other end of the store.
“I parked by the loading docks.”
You motioned to your car a couple of yards in front of you.
Sunwoo nodded, “I’ll be right back.”
He stalled for a moment, staring at your car expressionless before turning on his heels.
Having caught the blank look, your gaze flicked back and forth between your car and his back.
“Do you…” you shifted, “Do you want me to give you a ride?”
He stopped and threw you a blank look over his shoulders. He was only a couple steps away, unprotected from the falling rain, but he made no motion to return. “No. That’s alright. That’ll just draw their attention, and then we’ll be trapped back there.”
“Okay,” you nodded. The word tumbled out awkwardly from your mouth, and you fought the urge to fidget and frown at him.
He stared at you for a moment longer, then nodded, turned back around, and kept walking.
It was unfair, you realized as you watched him saunter away, just how unaffected Sunwoo seemed to be after seeing you for the first time after so many years. Now you were sure he’d fared completely well after you’d broken up. It hurt you to accept that it was exactly as you had thought.
You waited until he turned the corner, shuffling past a group of stunned zombies, before sprinting to your car.
You shoved the basket of food onto the backseats and waited. It was uncomfortable. It felt like an eternity before you saw a dusty blue minivan turn the corner.
He drove at a turtle’s pace as if by driving slower, he’d be able to avoid drawing the attention of the undead. Instead, they began to shake themselves out of their thunder-induced stupor and shuffle in the direction of the minivan.
You could see packs of zombies over the entirety of the lot starting to turn in his direction. Though they had yet to swarm around his car like agitated bees, you could already envision it happening, and you dreaded it.
A handful already followed him from behind. You could see the figures clustering together through his windshields. At the sides, one or two zombies pawed at the back doors angrily. But it wasn’t until a group of seven crossed his path and blocked your view of the front of his minivan that you felt your fear turn into an indomitable terror.
Your hands moved without much thought, and you shoved your car key into the ignition. You twisted it and fought the urge to let go and hit the gas when the undead jolted toward you at the sound of the engine roaring to life.
Hardly a moment later, as if you had turned his car on instead of your own, he revved his engine and headed straight toward you.
He ran over the group of zombies in front of him, laying three of them under the wheels of his car and sending two others into the air. The last one in his way hit the hood of his car, staining the dusty blue paint job and the front windshield in dark red splotches that smeared when the zombie inevitably slipped off.
He skidded to a stop next to your car seconds later, tires screeching as they tried to grip the wet ground.
Your windows lined up almost perfectly. The space between your cars was so minuscule that you felt an absurd burst of road rage threatening to escape you at the sudden thought that he’d almost clipped your side mirror.
Eyes narrowed into slits, you’d been about to scold him when you finally looked at him, and the rage dispelled.
Sunwoo pinned you to your seat with a wide-eyed look. His chest rose and fell in quick succession, panting as if he’d run instead of driven. His knuckles paled ghastly from the grip he had on the steering wheel, and even though it was raining, you felt like you could swear his face was glistening because of sweat.
You took in the sight through the layers of glass between you. The amount of time the two of you spent like that, you couldn’t say, but at the very least, the undead had yet to surround either of you.
Eventually, your hand shot out blindly toward the button that would lower your window, but he shook his head.
You met his eyes, and he nodded forward, giving you another piercing look before letting his car roll ahead of yours and come to a stalling stop. He waited for you.
Once your car moved forward, positioning yourself to line up behind him, he surged forward. It was clear once they got going that Sunwoo had no qualms about ramming his minivan into the wandering bodies of the undead if they were in the way. If he had, he’d overcome it in the lot they’d left.
You frowned. The look you’d caught in Sunwoo’s eyes flashing in front of you every time you noticed another broken body coming out from under his car.
Every now and then, when lightning struck ahead of them, your gaze gravitated toward it, you’d catch Sunwoo’s stare in the reflection of his rearview mirror. Disconcerted, you looked away as quickly as she could each time. Eventually, though you were embarrassed, you found yourself looking too. When the rain was pouring too heavily to see much anyway.
Lightning struck while you stared in his direction, questioning why you found Sunwoo’s gaze on you every time it did. You found this time was no different. His big brown eyes stayed fixed on you for the couple of seconds it took for the sky to flash and lightning to strike miles ahead. Then everything was dark again, and your high beams just barely pierced through the torrents of rain.
Was he looking at you? His eyes reflected back to you, but really, wasn’t he merely looking into his rearview mirror? It was a basic driving rule, you insisted to yourself. It would be weird if he didn’t. You hadn’t owned a car, but you’d read the driving handbook and passed your road test. It was a habit essential to driving.
But, a smaller voice insisted, if it was a habit, why was it always when lightning struck.
Clarity, you rationalized, he can see through the rain then. He mustn’t care about crashing into other cars. After all, you yourself hadn’t seen another car galivanting down the road. And crashing into the undead didn’t seem much of a worry.
You breathed, exhaling as you nodded to yourself. Then lightning struck. Your eyes met his again through the mirror, and you knew.
The slow-moving car. The wide-eyed look he’d given you. The stare he held on you when lightning struck.
You couldn’t be sure, not without asking him, but it was as if he needed to make sure you were still there. As if he couldn’t believe you had agreed to follow him back.
Perhaps they were in agreement then.
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The rain had yet to let up when the two of you finally reached your destination, and you found yourself driving through the tall, iron-wrought gates of your old high school, looking up at the main two-story building.
Sunwoo had driven up directly to the gates, running over the zombies that stood stunned and in the way without a second thought. The two of you had stood there, cars stalling as the gates opened, for an absurd amount of minutes, it had seemed to you.
Then, with the gates screeching shut behind you, Sunwoo stopped and parked as he was, meters from the main entrance.
You were sure the severity of the rain hadn’t changed in the while it had taken for you to park directly behind his car. But, you could see them.
The doors to the main entrance had opened while you parked, and three figures filed out. They stood at the top of the five-step stoop, arms crossed as they waited for the two— or maybe just Sunwoo— to step out. He shot you a look as he opened his door. Though you weren’t sure what it meant, you stayed in your seat, too afraid to move. A moment later, when he slammed his door shut, not even the distance between you and the three on the steps, let alone the glass and metal that was the car encompassing you, was enough to muffle the chastising he was receiving.
“What the hell were you thinking leaving like that?!” Your breath caught in your throat. “In that damned car! Eric hadn’t even finished outfitting it!”
“Sangyeon,” Sunwoo sighed, though it nearly sounded like a groan.
“You couldn’t have brought anyone with you?! Taken Kevin or Hyunjae with you?!”
“Where did you even go? And why the hell did you bring someone back with you?!”
“New,” Jacob groaned. “That’s not fair.”
“Not fair? NOT FAIR?! WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF FOOD, AND HE THINKS IT’S A GOOD IDEA TO BRING SOMEONE ELSE TO FEED!”
New fumed, gesturing wildly in your direction. He stood on Sangyeon’s left, glaring at Jacob, who stood to Sangyeon’s right and merely shook his head at him.
“Can I speak now?” Sunwoo snapped. “Or is that too much to ask?”’
“DO NOT snap at them, Sunwoo.” Jacob snapped back in return before taking a deep breath. “You know they have a point. You shouldn’t have snuck out. You shouldn’t have taken a car that hadn’t been fixed yet. You shouldn’t have gone alone. What if something happened to you? Do you think we were just going to be able to let you go so easily? You have to stop being so reckless.”
Sunwoo’s shoulders sagged. “Sorry. I only went a town over to find food.”
“Alone,” Sangyeon growled.
Feeling chastised and a tad guilty that you were a voyeur to Sunwoo’s scolding, you clambered out of your car without a second thought and regretted it the moment you slammed your car door shut.
They stared at you as if you had just told them the end of the world had been nothing more than an elaborate prank. Eyes blown wide and their mouths agape, it seemed like they hardly even took notice of the torrents of rain coming down on them.
Meters behind Sunwoo, you were surprised they could even see you. For a moment, you thought they stared because they couldn’t see you. But the frozen looks on their faces that you were able to discern were enough for you to know that they did.
You swallowed and smiled shakily, raising a hand to wave hello.
The silence was impenetrable by anything other than the rain.
“Y/N.” Someone finally said. Sangyeon. You swallowed again, noting the lower pitch of his voice. You squinted, trying to make sure it was he who had spoken, but the pour of the rain prevented you from being sure.
Still, you went with your gut feeling and greeted them, stepping forward until you were standing next to a smirking Sunwoo.
“Hi.”
“Y/N.” New scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. He glared at you, and the flimsy smile you sported wavered.
Sunwoo nodded. “I brought Y/N back. Found her going down the aisles of that one market a town over. You know, the one by the town’s edge, where the team buses used to stop.”
Sangyeon nodded only once and slowly. Then, in the silence that followed, New scoffed once again.
“I brought back food, too, if you’re interested.” Sunwoo smiled thinly.
“Just get inside,” Sangyeon snapped before turning on his heels and stalking inside.
Sunwoo followed closely behind, and before you knew it, you were standing outside with only New and Jacob for company.
“It’s—”
New scoffed again, and though you couldn’t see it, you knew he had just rolled his eyes at you. He didn’t wait for either of you after that, choosing to pivot on his heels much like Sangyeon had and storm inside.
You waited for the school’s doors to clang shut, nearly flinching, before speaking again. “Three scoffs in less than five minutes,” you laughed, biting your lips afterward. “That’s got to be a new record.”
Jacob shook his head. He smiled kindly at you though small, and it took all the energy you had to keep yourself from sobbing.
“His record is five in five minutes now, actually.”
“I see.”
“Come on.” He waved you forward. “Let’s get inside and change out of these clothes before we end up with a fever.”
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The school’s cafeteria tables had been pressed and stacked against the sidewalls. It left the large room feeling like it was practically empty. Were it not for the four tables they had placed at the center like a square without corners and the hobo fire at the center of it all, you were sure you would have mistaken the cafeteria for an interrogation room.
The hallways themselves had been deserted while Jacob led you to the girl’s locker rooms and suggested you take a shower. Everything you needed would already be there, and he promised he’d leave you a change of clothes on one of the benches near the door for when you were done. He had even been kind enough to leave a note promising the pair of boxer briefs he’d brought were clean, though you had still hesitated.
Cocooned in the warm blanket Jacob had given you on the way to the cafeteria, sitting in front of the hobo fire, your back to the door, you realized it was the only kindness you would be receiving.
The cafeteria may have been intended to be a sort of center of operations, you judged by the boxes of food and supplies you saw stowed under a table, but at the moment, you felt as if it were moments away from becoming the interrogation room you felt it had just barely avoided becoming.
You could feel their stares, their eyes burning holes into you while you kept your fixed gaze alternating between the mug of tea Jacob had gotten for you and the pair of black sweats you now wore.
They were all here, at least, all alive.
Eventually, you lifted your gaze and fixed it on the glow of the fire emanating from the trash can. You hoped they’d think your mind was lost in the fire while you took them in.
Kevin studied you from the kitchen window where the lunch ladies used to serve the meals they’d prepared for the day. His face was thinner now you noted, more angular as he’d lost the baby fat you remembered. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, though, and you were sure he had already discerned things about you even you hadn’t noticed yet.
Jacob leaned against the window’s counter. Haknyeon and Hyunjae stood on either side of him, toying with the lunch trays in their hands. They had their backs to you, so you couldn’t see their faces clearly, and take in how much they had changed. You could tell they had gotten bigger, shoulders wider than you recalled. At the very least, you contended yourself with the knowledge that you could still tell it was them.
It didn’t take you much to reach the conclusion that the three were listening to Jacob recall how you had reached them.
Avoiding Kevin’s eyes, you moved your gaze toward Sangyeon, who was packing supplies into a box. Younghoon and Juyeon looked the same as you last remembered them. They hovered behind Sangyeon, looking over a shared clipboard.
It took you a moment to realize Sangyeon's lips were moving.
He had always been good at speaking without moving his lips much. You could guess what he was saying to them too. Their faces were blank in concentration, trying to give nothing away.
“It’s done!” Eric shouted happily, doors flinging open as he strolled inside. “I set up another room AND managed to fix the generator. Now where is she?!”
You were startled, nearly spilling your tea, and the tense silence of the room intensified. It didn’t take long for Eric to spot you, running to you even before you had turned fully around. He pulled you into a standing hug, squeezing you until you regained your bearings and returned his hug.
“Look at you!” He said when he pulled away. “You’re all grown up! I mean, we all are, but still.”
You chuckled, the tension of the rest of the room suddenly forgotten. “Me? Look at you. The last time I saw you, you were this tiny, scrawny little freshman crossing his fingers he’d make the varsity baseball team.”
He was far from the freshman you remembered. He was much taller now, and rather than scrawny, you could tell he’d spent a fair amount of time working out. His shoulders were wider, and while his face still looked like the Eric you remembered, it had also broadened.
Even his hair had changed. No longer the deep brown, he had dyed it white-blond, though you could see his roots starting to show.
“I did!” He laughed.
“Make the team, that is,” Q interrupted before you could respond.
The smile you had gotten because of Eric fell as you turned to look at Q.
It was the first time you allowed yourself to look at him since Jacob had brought you there. He sat in front of New, who had elected to give you his back. Sunwoo sat to his right with two girls you didn’t recognize on his right. You could feel the three of them staring at you. The two girls glared at you, though you didn’t understand why.
Sunwoo didn’t glare.
His stare was cold and emotionless.
You could hardly bear to glance at him, so you focused on Q, whose eyes pierced through you in a glare.
He didn’t look much different. His facial features, if anything, had only sharpened enough to signal he’d grown older.
In the silence that came after his words, one of his eyebrows ticked upward in challenge, and he let his spoon drop onto his food tray. “But you wouldn’t know that would you?”
You swallowed. The look he was giving you.
“Q--”
He sneered, “Changmin.”
“W-what--”
“It’s Changmin to you. You have no right to call me Q anymore.”
“I- I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” New scoffed without looking at you.
“New--”
“No.” He shook his head and, a moment later, slammed his spoon onto the table. “You have no right to call me New.”
“I’m sorry,” your whisper echoed in the silence.
New-- Chanhee, at your apology, finally turned and glared at you just as Q-- Changmin did.
“Whatever for?”
You flinched.
“Why did you even come? Did you think we’d be waiting for you? With open arms at that?”
“New.” Sangyeon snapped.
Rolling his eyes, he turned around without waiting for you to answer.
There was a lump in your throat, and it grew in the silence that returned. Tears threatened to escape you though you fought to keep them at bay with your gaze trained on the floor.
“I should go,” you whispered.
Though you didn’t mean to look at him, your gaze fell on Sunwoo before turning around. He remained expressionless, looking at you with cold brown eyes. He wasn’t glaring at you, but the grip he had on his spoon felt like enough for you to know what he felt.
Clutching the blanket around your shoulders, you were halfway to the doors when Jacob stopped you.
“Wait! Aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want to eat?”
“No, thanks.” You cast him a glance over your shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
You were halfway down the hall when Eric came running out from the cafeteria.
“Wait! Y/N, wait! You don’t even know where you’re going! I’ll show you to your room!”
You sniffed as he caught up with you.
“Oh. Oh, don’t cry. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. They--”
She shook her head and waved for him to stop.
Together, they walked in silence toward the entrance, where they took the hall opposite the door. He led her upstairs to the second floor and through the hallway, turning right when they reached the end.
“Your room’s all the way back here. It’s Mrs. LaCroix's old classroom.”
You nodded.
“I would have given you one closer to us-- most of us are downstairs, but all of the classrooms have already been taken. A few of us have rooms up here, near the stairwell. Mine’s the one right next to the bottom of the stairs if you need me.”
“Thank you,” you croaked out when you reached the classroom.
“Here,” he said, holding out a box you hadn’t noticed he was carrying.
“What is this?”
“Provisions,” he answered, smiling at you. “Blankets, some pillows, things to make the bed and your room.”
“Thanks, Eric.”
“You,” he hesitated, “You are staying, right?”
You hesitated to answer, studying the floor by his feet. You didn’t imagine you’d be welcome to stay.
But. before you could figure out your answer, he spoke again. “Sleep on it. There’s a sandwich in there. You should eat it before going to sleep. I know it’s been a long day. And the guys-- they’re just-- Sunwoo-- he’s--”
You nodded but said nothing in return.
He sighed. “I missed you, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”
“I missed you too. Goodnight, Eric.” The words came out quieter than you intended them to, but he heard them, and he pulled you into another hug before pulling away.
You watched him make his way down the hallway and disappear around the corner before entering the room Eric had prepared for you. The door had yet to close before you were slumping onto the mattress that had been laid on top of multiple desks.
You rummaged through the box, looking for the sandwich Eric had promised. It was the only thing that mattered to you now. You would eat it, focus on the textures and flavors in your mouth, and force yourself to forget everything else. And later, when the lights turned off, you would force yourself to sleep, though it wouldn’t stop your tears from escaping.
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