countless tears. endless nights spent with your head down. days where you’ve been unable to acknowledge the sun. it’s been months, you know it has, and you’re finally able to admit it to yourself. it’s over now, though. it’s done. you’re done.
“i’m done.” you say out loud, triumphantly brandishing your laptop in the air, though not in a manner too spirited. dropping $2000 worth of technology would put a damper on your rare good mood. “the chapter that had me stumped, i’m finally finished.”
“that’s great, baby!” jeno’s exclamation is muffled from under the throw blanket that’s eternally on your shared couch. it’d been yours before you’d moved in together, but now it fell comfortably in the shared asset category. you hear your boyfriend shed the blanket, groaning softly as he sits up and stretches before allowing his feet to settle on solid ground. his footsteps are subdued by his socks, the navy blue ones he only wears at home.
jeno drapes himself over the back of your chair, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. he radiates warmth. you allow yourself to sink back into him, just a little.
“what’s it about?” he murmurs into your hair. you steel yourself.
you breathe.
you speak.
“this chapter's about how you said there was nobody else, and then you got up and went to her house. over and over again, night after night.” jeno’s breath hitches, and the hands resting against your shoulders stiffen. you keep going. he doesn’t deserve the chance to pause and process everything: god knows he’d never extended you that courtesy.
“somebody saw you with her last night and sent me photos, so you can’t even deny it. you gave me your word, said stupid shit like ‘oh, don't worry about her,’ but i guess it’s my fault for even listening, huh?” the question is rhetorical, and you push on as you shift so jeno isn’t touching you anymore. you turn to face him.
“you’ve been reckless with me,” there is a tremor in your voice, backed by pure anger. “i hope she isn’t worth it in the slightest. i hope the two of you are perfect for each other in that you ruin each other, and i hope you both go to hell.”
you don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming your laptop shut before standing up from your place at the dining table. a friend of yours has been kind enough to sublet her place until your lease period ends as she’s out of the country for work, and you’ve been slowly but surely moving your essentials over to her place all this time. you’ve already signed your lease for a studio apartment for the upcoming year as well. the only duck you’d had left to get in a row had been the matter of dumping jeno, but as you hear a quiet, choked sob come from behind you, you can’t help but feel that you’re finally free.
Omg I’ve missed you sm 🥲 but here’s my request! Jaemin and the song is lowkey by niki :))))
hiii love here it is!
warnings: suggestive
“haven’t seen you before.”
he has a cheshire cat smile, the top two buttons of his slinky dress shirt are unbuttoned, and his hair is mussed in the way that you know it must’ve taken him twenty minutes in front of the mirror to get it just right. his head’s dyed the prettiest shade of peach you’ve ever seen on hair, and a couple of tasteful silver rings decorate the nimble fingers of the hand that’s currently on the bar countertop, inches away from your own fingers.
you take note of all of this as you drag your eyes up from your phone, raking your gaze over him as a form of appraisal. it’s as you meet his dark eyes that you decide you’ve picked your poison. your hunt is over for the night.
“how sure are you about that?” you ask, pressing your lips into as coy an expression as you think the stranger in front of you deserves. he doesn’t take a seat at the empty stool right by yours, opting to stand in front of it instead. he’s looking directly down at you, and although the club is hot with bodies, something about him makes goosebumps rise on your skin. you take a swig of your whiskey to warm yourself up, acutely aware of his eyes on your lips, your neck, your chest.
“think i’d remember you,” he replies with ease after a moment, as if he hadn’t paused to admire you. perhaps it wasn’t admiration at all. when you lock eyes with him again, all you see is hunger. it’s like looking in a mirror. “i’m jaemin.”
“(name),” you response, circling the rim of your glass with a finger. you allow yourself a small smirk. “i’m not one for pleasantries. want to go somewhere more exclusive?”
jaemin finally rests a wide-open palm against your waist, tightening his grip just enough for you to feel it. he leans in, and you can feel just how salacious his grin is when he murmurs a soft “my bedroom’s vacant, king-size bed.” before dragging your earlobe between two of his teeth.
“we can leave whenever,” you whisper back, voice sultry. you wind your arms over his sculpted shoulders, drink long-forgotten. “so long as we keep it lowkey.”
“it’s just a waltz,” jisung laughs, extending his hand out for you to grasp. “it won’t kill you.”
“it totally could,” you reply, brows furrowing out of mock indignation even as you fight to keep the smile off of your face. “i could trip over your big ass feet and faceplant and break every tooth i’ve ever had and -”
“i’ll find someone else to dance with, then.” your boyfriend makes a big show of retracting his hand alongside his invitation to dance, though he’s purposefully slow enough that you grab onto his wrist, effectively stopping him. unlike you, he makes no effort to hide the playful grin on his face as he hauls you up onto your feet.
“absolutely not,” you scowl, slotting your fingers through his before he gently tugs you along onto the dance floor. it’s the moment in between songs. you wait until he sets a hand against your waist and presses his cheek against yours to keep speaking. “you’re stuck with me. this is fate and that’s a fact.”
jisung presses a soft kiss against your cheek just as the string quartet starts up again, and you pull him that little bit closer.
hiii i love you omg!! this is my new fav song thank you for dropping it into my inbox holy fuck. anyways here goes
“you’ve never called me perfect before.”
his cheek is smushed against your knee, and his matter-of-fact statement comes out muffled because of it. there’s no bitterness there, no underlying annoyance: he’s merely observing out loud.
“do you want me to call you perfect?” the words are smoother than you expect them to be as they leave your tongue, given just how long you and your lover have sat in silence. you’re careful as you brush his hair out of his eyes, over and over and over again. your blue blouse’s bishop sleeve caresses the edge of his jaw and the curve of his neck and shoulder as you do this, but he says nothing of it.
“no.” hyuck turns over so the nape of his neck fits over part of your thigh. his eyes meet yours as best they can.
you do nothing but hum in understanding. donghyuck reaches a pastel yellow button-down clad arm up, gripping your wrist light between a thumb and pointer finger before pulling your hand away from his hair. he presses a chaste kiss to your wrist, right at your pulse point.
“no,” he continues, a corner of his mouth quirking up. “it’s why you’re so special to me.”
you suppose there’s a weight that comes with being the very sunlight that warms a room. expectations color your boyfriend’s personal atmosphere, pressing down on him constantly to the point where you wonder if he remembers what clear air is like. perfect is an obligation for him; something he has to be.
lee donghyuck is loud, and sometimes, though it’s rare now, he takes jokes too far, and he’s achingly stubborn, and there are times you swear the mischievous glint in his eye is backed by a sliver — just a sliver — of pure sadism. you like him because he’s your beautiful, brilliant boy, full of love and life and laughter even when the world seems against him, and you love him despite his imperfections. he appreciates that you’re there to remind him of the fact that he has any at all while keeping him grounded in love rather than fear.
you keep him feeling human.
“recently, everyone says they’re seeing less of me,” he sighs, his smile slipping again, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair once more. “i could do better if i had energy. be like i used to be.”
“who you are now is just as wonderful as who you’ve been,” you finally say something full of substance, recognizing that he needs a real response from you this time. “and if it’s energy you need, we have time to rejuvenate over your break. together, if you’d like.”
“god, i made date night all mopey.” hyuck laughs, though you can tell he’s delighted at your implication that you’re ready to spend his much-needed upcoming vacation time with him. he’d been worried about asking. you laugh with him, shaking your head as a form of letting him know just how endeared you are by him.
“break together, huh?” your boyfriend continues, gently moving your hand away from his hair before sitting up straight on the gingham blanket that’s laid out on your living room floor. picnic simulator. he crosses his legs before reaching over and tapping gently on the side of one of your knees, silently urging you to unfold your own legs. once you’ve done so, hyuck wastes no time in swinging your calves over his lap, craving closeness in whatever ways he can get it.
“i can picture it now, us walking straight into the sea, laughing as waves come rolling to my knees.” the hope in his voice is tangible, an unspoken question in the air between you two. you nod, leaning close until your forehead is against his before replying.
“what a place we’ll be in, side by side, safe and fine.”
“i can’t fucking believe -” you cut yourself off, watching as mark swings open your front door and quite literally walks out into pouring rain instead of continuing to argue with you. for a moment, you’re absolutely stunned, and then a beat passes and you can swear you feel smoke coming out of your ears.
how fucking dare he?
before you can get your head straight, you rush out after him. your boyfriend is out in the middle of your cul-de-sac, arms outstretched, face aimed upwards as if welcoming the weather. upon hearing the tell-tale slam of your front door, mark turns towards you. saying anything is futile — he’d have to shout to be heard over the rain — so he simply stretches an arm out towards you instead.
you suppose it’s for the better, you think, as you let your rage evaporate off of you and walk towards him, hardly minding getting soaked in the process. his warm fingers find your own and pull you into him, and you can’t help your yelp of laughter as you start to forget whatever petty thing the two of you had been fighting about moments earlier.
“let’s just have this right now.” mark’s lips are against your ear as the two of you embrace, and you can hear him clearly despite the chaos of your surroundings. you don’t know if he catches your hum of agreement. he pulls away only to cup your face between his hands, and you reach up to move the hair plastered against his forehead so he can see you better.
the two of you meet in the middle, rain-soaked and battle-hardy, but you swear it’s the sweetest anyone’s lips have ever tasted against your own.
you sigh, lightly running your fingertips over your unsent letter. the words are in dark ink, written with a new pen against stationary johnny had gotten you as a spontaneous gift. it’d been the sweetest gesture anyone had given you in a while, a simply ‘i thought of you while at the market’ if anything, but it had damn near broken your heart.
even then, you’d known that the first thing you’d use it for was to write an ode to your ex. it’s more of a run-on sentence than anything, a stream-of-consciousness, a style mark hates having to read. the two of you hadn’t seen eye-to-eye on much.
he respects my space and never makes me wait, and he calls exactly when he says he will, he's close to my mother, talks business with my father, he's charming and endearing and i’m comfortable
“love?” johnny’s voice floats down the hallway, and you realize you hadn’t heard him use his spare key to get into your apartment. you check the time on your phone, and it tells you what you’re afraid to hear: you only have about fifteen minutes to get ready for date night.
“give me ten!” you respond, voice lighter than you feel, and you get up to shut your bedroom door just as your boyfriend yells back a cheery “sounds good!” before what sounds like him settling onto your couch. the smile that crosses your face is tiny, but genuine. he really is a good man. sensible and incredible.
your smile turns into a sigh all-too-quickly, and you chance another glance back at your letter.
but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it's 2:00 a.m. and i'm cursing your name, we were so in love that we acted insane and that's the way i loved you even though we were breaking down and coming undone, it was a roller coaster kinda rush and i never knew i could feel that much and that's the way i loved you
your last written ‘i loved you’ is smudged, and you remember crying as you’d written it in the late night, early morning of some day some time. you and mark had had plenty of good times, but you’d had just as many bad ones: a coupling bound to implode. you think of the sweet man reclined on your couch right now, waiting patiently for you to come out into the living room so he can tell you how beautiful you look, and you find yourself adorning another melancholic smile.
