something more
ruwonidâ:
he doesnât want to deal with this. he wants a pack of cards to materialize in his hand, so he can toss them in the air, shout 52 card pickup and bolt for the door. but johyun had left him an out, enough space to laugh it off. nope, haha. mustâve gotten drunk as fuck off that soju i cut with fucking grapefruit juice, of all fucking things. an entire half glass of soju really fucked me up. no recollection. nada. zip. zilch. âremember what?â he says, sticks some wobbly looking smile in place. like heâs trying his hardest. like he doesnât feel like trash doing this. saying this.
he doesn't remember. or he doesn't want to. johyun doesn't quite know which he thinks it's worse.
because here he is, standing in front of this boy who was just a friend until weeks ago, raw and exposed; completely undone by his lips and ruwon doesn't even remember. johyun feels foolish, stupid. humiliated. he feels like his clothes, his barriers, everything has been taken from him and he stands here, completely shown. and ruwon doesn't even remember. and to think johyun has been completely consumed by the memory, a mess of fingers and lips, the ghost of ruwonâs fingertips against his skin haunting him every night until he couldn't sleep anymore. and ruwon doesn't even remember.
what had changed everything for johyun was nothing but alcohol speaking louder than reason for his friend. friend. friend is the word here and it settles at the bottom of his heart like a curse. johyun steps away from ruwon until he is out of reach. he doesnât want to look at him. he doesnât want to be looked at.Â
and itâs not ruwonâs fault. itâs not anger or anything like that that fills johyun like poison right now. itâs a sense of shame that heâs tired of feeling, something that he feels so deep it aches and burns. heâs not angry. even if ruwon doesnât remember, or even worse, if right now heâs pretending not to. if for him he prefers to lie than tell what he really feels on johyunâs face. what could be so horrible he doesnât want to say it? maybe johyun should be thankful. some little mercy, that is. maybe ruwon truly is a good friend. one of his last ones. and johyun shouldnât ruin this.Â
even here. even as he knows with stark certainty that for him things have changed. that in himself things have changed. that when he looks at ruwon he doesnât see only a friend anymore, someone to sit down and chat with, someone to be cool with, someone to chill. that thereâs a part of him that craves so much, so deeply, so intensely for what they shared in ruwonâs room that night. something ruwon doesnât even remember. or doesnât want to. fuck. he doesnât even know.Â
âi-,â johyun starts, once again, pauses, speechless. he doesnât know what to say. he backs away until heâs closer to the door and then looks up, meets ruwonâs eyes. thereâs a sharp pain in his heart and he ignores it, tries a smile. hopes that his face doesnât betray him this time. hopes ruwon doesnât notice the hint of pain in it. he tries his best, though, âyouâll have to figure that one out yourself.â
and then he turns around, opens the door. breathes only when he closes the door.Â







