│ synopsis: Loving Jeongin was easy—until success turned silence into distance, and one heartbreaking question shattered everything they thought would last forever.
You got used to loving Jeongin quietly.
Not because he didn't deserve it out loud, but because life with him became so silent that your love began to echo only in your head.
At first, it was easy.
Easy like the nights he stayed with you even though he had to practice the next day.
Easy like the times he stared at you when you thought he wasn't looking.
Easy like his laugh, the one that seemed like a parenthesis in your chaos.
You loved him with the certainty of someone who has found a home, and he hugged you with the awkwardness of someone who still doesn't know if he deserves to be loved so much.
There were days of unfinished movies, cold breakfasts because he stayed in bed with you, calls in the middle of the night just to hear your voice because the city was suffocating him and you were the only place he could breathe.
But then came the tour.
And the interviews.
And the broken schedules.
And you began to store your days in little boxes he no longer fit in.
"I'm fine, love. It was just a bad day," you lied.
And he, smiling without fully seeing you, said:
"I'm almost done. Just a little longer, okay?"
And you nodded. Always.
Because you loved him. Because you knew how difficult his life was.
Because you didn't want to be "one more who doesn't understand."
But one day you stopped understanding yourself.
He stopped asking you if you'd eaten.
He stopped stopping by your house because "time was running out."
He stopped reminding you of the Friday ramen sessions on your couch.
And you swallowed every absence as if it were part of love.
Until you couldn't tell if you missed him or the version of him who never came back.
And then that night came.
The rain pounded on the windows as if it wanted to break them.
You were sitting on the couch, your cell phone in your hand, looking at the message you'd read three hours ago.
"Are you coming today?"
He didn't answer.
Until he did.
After eleven.
Soaked, no flowers, no excuses, his face tired and his heart who knows where.
"Weren't you going to let me know?" you asked, not angry, just broken.
Jeongin left the keys on the table. He looked at you. Or so you thought.
And then he simply said:
"I don't want to fight."
But you didn't want to fight either.
You just wanted to know why it felt like I wasn't with you anymore even when we were in the same room.
You wanted him to tell you that I still loved you.
That it was still worth fighting.
"I don't fight, Jeongin. Just… do you still love me?"
The silence.
That damn silence.
"I don't know," he murmured. And his voice was crueler than any scream.
Then the words came.
In torrents.
The guilt. The tiredness. The broken promises. Your tears.
His gaze on the ground.
Your hands trembling.
His way of not touching you.
"I'm tired, Y/N."
"I'm tired too, but not of you. I'm tired of you getting tired of me."
And he didn't deny it.
And that was it.
Jeongin grabbed his jacket.
He paused for a second at the door.
"I'm sorry."
You didn't say goodbye.
Because you didn't know if it was goodbye.
Because you wanted him back.
Because you still loved him, even though you no longer knew how to love someone who left without moving.
You stayed there.
With the echo of his footsteps still floating in the air.
With his photos on your phone.
With the bitter taste of what could have been.
Description: Jeongin loves you to death. Based on Duncan Laurence’s “Loving You is a Losing Game.”
Warning: death, war, inferiority complex
Word count: 1.7k
Pairing: fem!reader x Yang Jeongin
A/N: Thank you to my SG friend for the military consult lol
Loving you is a losing game.
That’s what he thinks as he watches you fall to the ground. Time seems to stop, and in that moment, he sees your life together flash before his eyes.
He met you in high school. You were lab partners for biology, and he never thought anyone could look good in a lab coat until you walked up to him and introduced yourself.
“Hi!” you said. “I’m Y/N. You’re Jeongin, correct?”
“Y-yeah. Sorry you’re partnered with me; I’m not that smart.”
You laughed amusedly and he could feel a warmth spread across his chest. “Well, Jeongin, I hope I can prove you wrong. Biology’s really fun, and I think you’ll find yourself better at it than you think.”
Jeongin never once met anyone who had such confidence in his academic ability. Your words resonated with him, and in the end, he really did do better than he could have imagined. He didn’t exactly find biology as fun as you suggested, but he would study late into the night for that one class just because it was on something you liked. He would stare at the tips and pointers you hand wrote for him until they’re etched into his brain, and imagine that little smile of yours whenever he did well.
“This is the gallbladder, right? Next to the kidney? We need to dissect that out,” he’d once said.
“Right,” you nodded. Leaning towards the mouse pinned to your dissection tray, you began to pinch the gallbladder with your forceps. At that moment—one Jeongin thinks was sent from above—a strand of your hair falls into your face.
“Dang it,” you cursed, trying futilely to push it away with the non-gloved part of your wrist.
Jeongin, who was designated notetaker for the day, set his pen down. “Do you need help?”
“Yeah. If you don’t mind, can you grab a bobby pin from my pencil pouch?”
He bent down to your backpack and did as told, but was not expecting the heart attack he got when he straightened back up to see you leaning towards him.
“W-would you like me to put it on for you?” he stammered.
“If you don’t mind.”
Putting that bobby pin in your hair was the single most difficult thing Jeongin had ever done. The second most difficult thing was ignoring how hard his heart was pounding against his ribs afterwards.
“You’re pretty good at this dissection thing,” he comments, clearing his throat and trying to distract himself.
You beam. “You think so? I want to be a doctor when I grow up.”
“You’d definitely be a very good one.” Jeongin felt a little nervous. Would you still consider someone like him by your side when you are rich and successful?
What Jeongin thinks he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for with tenacity. For all three years of high school, he slaved through the most difficult of science courses just to stay by your side. To his surprise, you stuck by his side too, ignoring your more high-achieving peers’ dissuasion and their mockery towards someone like Jeongin.
Loving you is a losing game.
“Heyo,” you greeted him one lunch period, pulling a chair up to his desk like you’ve done every day for the past few years.
Jeongin quickly hid the barely-passing math quiz his teacher just handed him. “Hi, Y/N.”
You frowned, noticing his unusual demeanor. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he insisted, sipping nervously on his water.
You turned your head toward the chalkboard where his teacher had written the mean and standard deviation of the test. “Math?”
He signed helplessly and nodded.
“Do you need any help?”
He bit his cheek. “You’re already carrying me in chemistry; I don’t want to keep bothering you.”
“You’re not a bother. Besides, what are friends for?” Seeing that he wasn’t budging, you asked, “What do you want to do in the future?”
What did he want to do? That was a good question. He had gotten so used to just following you, he did not have much of his own direction. He did know that whatever college you were going to, he did not have much of a chance with, so what was he going to do?
You continued, “If it’s not math related, I don’t think you have to be so stressed about one grade.”
“But you’d never have done as poorly as this,” he couldn’t help but mutter.
You furrowed your brows immediately. “Jeongin, do you compare yourself to me?”
“Well, not exactly, but I— I mean, obviously, I can’t—”
“Jeongin,” you cut him off.
“I know I shouldn’t—”
“Jeongin.”
You only continued when you finally got him to look you in the eye. “I think you are brilliant. Really, I do. You have a unique ability to see different aspects of things I have never even considered. Sure, you may not score the highest on tests and exams, but the school system only measures one type of intelligence; it just happens to not be yours. It doesn’t mean you’re not smart, and it certainly does not mean you should see yourself as incapable. I look up to you, Jeongin. I wouldn’t if you weren’t worthy of it.”
Jeongin stared at you blankly after your speech. He felt funny. He didn't quite know how to put it, but it felt like you’d just turned his world upside-down.
“So, yeah!” You smiled, moving away from the serious tone.
“What are your future plans?” Jeongin asked in return. “It’s time to start applying to college soon.”
“I was actually looking into the military.”
“Military? But you don’t even have to serve.”
You shrugged, taking a bite of your lunch. “Med school is expensive. Besides, it almost guarantees me a job.”
Jeongin chews slowly. “But it’ll be hard.”
“But at least we’ll be together, right? When you enlist too?”
He nearly chokes. Your well-meaning, friendly words were too much for his heart. He knew you did not have the intentions he’d wished you did, but he couldn’t help but hope.
He really should not have loved you. Maybe then, you would have had one less reason to be in the army. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be here, with him, on the front lines of 38th parallel.
Loving you is a losing game.
“Sergeant, how are you holding up?” Your voice was staticy over the walkie talkie, but Jeongin was glad to hear it after trudging through trenches for the last couple of days.
“Hanging in there, Lieutenant.”
“Good. The North seems to be advancing. The medical team is approaching as a precautionary and to check vitals.”
“Roger tha—”
BOOM! A large sound interrupts all conversations.
“The North has activated one of our landmines! They are less than 500 meters away!” announced one of the men.
Jeongin threw on his helmet. “Fall in!”
“Be careful!” Your voice was barely registered as another bomb went off and the troop mounted their guns over the trench.
The battle was chaos. No training, no matter how thorough, could have prepared Jeongin for what he experienced. Bullets were everywhere, and he could not tell if he’s even still alive or if his body was just acting on its own with residue adrenaline. The enemy kept advancing no matter what he did, but his own men were dropping like flies.
“Push forward” He barked.
If his troop replied, he couldn’t hear it over the mines exploding and cannons firing. He led them onwards, shooting anything he could see without being able to even think about it. He was doing well—you were right about him being able to see things others couldn’t which allowed him to weave between enemy lines and attack where they were most weak. All his focus forward though made him neglect one thing: himself.
He knew as soon as he felt it under his foot.
“Fall back!” he cried, almost not quickly enough.
He could only pray his men did as told as he himself jumped as far away from the mine he just activated.
“Jeongin!”
The pain was excruciating. He ended up sprawled forward, and when he looked back through blurred vision, his entire right leg was missing.
“I— I— I—”
“Shh, shh. Don’t panic.”
His head falls back to the ground, dizzy. Still, he kept his eyes trained on you. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Over your radio, he could hear, “Lieutenant L/N, what are you doing? Retreat immediately!”
“If I don’t put a tourniquet on this now, you WILL die, Sergeant,” you declare through grit teeth.
“Just leave me. You’re going to get shot on this active field.”
“I’m wearing a red cross; they won’t shoot me.”
“Are you crazy? No one’s looking at who’s wearing what right now!”
“Just shut up and stay down!” You glared at him, eyes blazing with a desperation he’d never seen before.
“Y/N…” He wanted to tell you to run, but his world was quickly growing dark. He could barely even mutter your name.
“Just… just shut up.” You went back to tying off his dismembered leg.
“Y/N…” But if he had the time to tell you one thing, it’ll be—
“You can’t die. I won’t let you,” you sniffled.
“I lo—”
You were tying the last knot, trying to wipe your tears with your shoulder as you did so.
And that’s when it happened. That’s when he saw a bullet pass cleanly between your two eyes, and that’s how he comes to watch you fall, life already gone from your body, onto the ground with a soundless thud. He lays there, next to you, unable to do anything. With the last of his consciousness, he reached his hand out for yours.
Loving you is a losing game.
<Twenty years later>
Jeongin rolls his wheelchair into his office. He turns to the picture on his desk and salutes it. It is a picture of you, smiling with him the day he was promoted sergeant. He was so full of life back then. You were too.
… A broken heart is all that's left
I'm still fixing all the cracks
Lost a couple of pieces when
I carried it, carried it, carried it home
… I've spent all of the love I saved
We were always a losing game
Small town boy in a big arcade
I got addicted to a losing game
He peels his eyes away from you and goes to throw on his doctor’s coat.
… Oh, oh
All I know, all I know
Loving you is a losing game
