꒰6:22 p.m.꒱ With one hand on the small of your back and the other holding your hand delicately, Jongdae sways both of your bodies to the soothing rhythm of the lyrics he sings. Your head rests against his chest, its gentle reverberations from his hums caressing your cheek and spreading through your body, warming you like the honey-colored rays of the sunset that spill into the kitchen of your shared apartment. Since your eyes are closed, you miss the tender smile that he gazes down at you with.
A/N: So it’s Jongdae’s birthday and I decided to write something for it. This is a quick read though. I hope you all enjoy this. Also, please send lots of love to Jongdae. ❤️
Living alone has its perks. You didn’t have to take into account someone else’s needs or “rules”. You don’t have to clean up anyone else’s messes. You could decorate your place to your liking. And of course, peace and quiet.
At first you didn’t mind having to live alone. You were excited, actually. It was your first time to have a place of your own. Growing up, you’ve shared a room with your sister. Even in college, you had to rent out a place with a roommate because you couldn’t afford a solo room. But now that you were working and with a stable job, it was basically all you could ever ask for.
When you moved into your place, you literally spent the whole day decorating your bare apartment to make it more homey. You bought plants and paintings and shelves which you filled with your books. It was perfect for you in the first month. But after that, you started to dislike the quietness of your apartment. Sure, you had friends but they had their own lives too. You couldn’t dare ask them to spend every possible time with you, although you were sure they’d drop everything for you.
Another thing that you hated with living alone was that there was no one to comfort you when you were scared. You were almost never scared of anything, quite frankly. Except this time. It was raining. Well, you weren’t scared of the rain itself. In fact, you loved it. For you, it meant growth and cleansing. But what you absolutely hated and were scared of is the thunder and lightning. These two only meant destruction to you. So when you heard the thunder booming and saw the lightning flashing, you couldn’t help but whimper.
You buried yourself in your bed with tons of blanket. It was your attempt to hide. Being alone made everything else worse. At least when you shared your room with your sister, she’d talk to you about things she did that day so you’d get distracted, or when you were with your roommate, she’d blast off loud music to overpower the sound of the thunders. Right now though, you were alone. The thought of being alone in such gloomy weather was enough to bring tears in your eyes. What started as a lone tear turned into a river of tears. You were crying and then the next thing you knew you were wailing and sobbing.
With your state, you almost didn’t notice the knock on your door. At first it was just three consecutive knocks, but when you didn’t answer, the knocking became more frantic. The sound was continuous and loud enough to get your attention. Without thinking about it, you went straight to your door, completely forgetting to compose yourself and to wipe the tears off of your face.
You were shocked to see your best friend, Jongdae, by the door. He was wet and he was breathing heavily, looking like he just ran a marathon. You stood there frozen and blinking for a couple of seconds. Jongdae’s frantic look morphed into something softer.
“J-Jongdae?” You sniffed.
“I’m late, aren’t I?” He asked.
“For what?” You silently said.
“You’re crying.” He engulfs you in a hug. “I’m sorry I’m late, I should’ve been with you earlier. I know you’re scared.” He said it with such a soothing tone, you almost cried a new batch of tears.
“Ssshh, darling, I’m here now.”
He leads you back into your bed and cuddles with you. If there wasn’t a thunderstorm tonight, you would have blushed at the position. You rarely ever cuddled with him, despite him being your best friend for the longest time.
After a few minutes of silence, he starts singing softly, filling the air with his angelic voice. You immediately calmed down. Right there, in his arms with his voice softly on the background you felt safe. You were safe.
You relished in the moment. You try to engrave this memory, this feeling into your mind because you were on borrowed time. The fact that he dropped off everything, including time with his girlfriend just to come to you and comfort you meant a lot to you. But it also brought a familiar kind of ache as you wondered if you were always going to be his priority, at least during thunderstorms. But for now, you don’t dwell on those thoughts. For now you were safe. For now you were with Jongdae, even if it was just borrowed time.
Prompt: #83 for @trishmarieco – “We finish it the same way we started – together.”
trishmarieco said:
Hi, sweetie! I'm unsure if you're writing for Jongdae but if you are, can I request #83 - “We finish it the same we started - together.” for the drabble game but as platonic best friends?
Pairing: Kim Jongdae x reader
Genre: friendship au / roommates au / a little sad-fluff
Warnings: none
Word count: 1146
“Where did the instructions go?” Jongdae heaved and whilst you also struggled to help him hold up the back of the cabinet, you managed to let out a breathy snort.
“Oh, those ones you claimed you wouldn’t need to make this?”
“Not funny,” he panted, gesturing to put it down and then leaned over it to catch his breath. “This isn’t working.”
“Should we leave it for another day?” you offered and with a defeated smile, your best friend nodded.
“We’ve got plenty of time to make it.”
And that was how it went for over six months. You didn’t know how you and Jongdae managed to make the process of the cabinet building so difficult. The instructions were found, only for the bag of screws to be misplaced. A few weeks later they appeared in the bathroom cupboard and there was a half-hearted attempt to get the piece finished. Only then, you had unexpected guests turn up at your shared apartment and it slipped off the back end of the priority list as work picked up for you both.
There were always a million reasons why you hadn’t gotten it done.
And now, there wasn’t much time left.
“I’ll finish that cabinet before I move out,” Jongdae announced and you smiled wistfully, rather wishing to leave it untouched in the spare room if it meant your best friend would stay on. All you had known was your life here with Jongdae. You had been neighbours as kids and best friends before you could even talk. Moving in together when you shifted out of home had made the best sense to you and you hadn’t realised just how accustomed you were to having him around every day.
It wasn’t as if he was moving cities and you’d never see him again. But you could already feel the emptiness of your home whenever you found items missing from their usual spots. It was going to be a new chapter for the pair of you.
And whilst you were incredibly happy for Jongdae moving on to the next chapter in his life, you couldn’t help the bitter feeling that came with being left behind.
You were finally going to be on different levels in life and that scared you.
“Y/N, have you seen the legs for the cabinet? They’re missing!”
You cleared your throat and called back in response. “Nope, haven’t seen them.”
“God, when will we ever finish this thing?!” he replied and you sighed heavily as you looked towards the wardrobe you had hidden them within.
Still, Jongdae was determined to get it done.
“Isn’t it heavy?”
He grunted. “Hold the other end.”
You did as he requested, though your heart wasn’t in it. “Have you – got – OW!”
“Are you okay?!” Jumping to his aide as he hopped around on one foot, you cringed at causing an injury. “I’m sorry!”
“It’s like this cabinet doesn’t even want to be finished!”
Chuckling softly, you turned to look away from him, blinking back your emotions quickly. You knew when the project was completed, he would leave.
“I found the legs!” Jongdae chimed the next day, holding the packet up victoriously. “How they ended up in the laundry room all this time, I don’t know.”
“Is that where they were?” you bluffed, sipping on your tea all too quickly. “Funny that.”
“Not long now!” he told you as he strode by you and your stomach dropped with each further step away.
You woke with a start, taking in your surroundings before you felt your heart ease. When you were certain you could breathe comfortably, you slipped out of bed, padding into the living room and over to the kitchen to retrieve some water. It was then when you saw the light on in the spare room.
Confused, you headed in to find Jongdae bending over the cabinet. “What are you doing?”
He jumped at your voice and then smiled grimly before turning back to the cabinet. He hadn’t made much progress on his own and you sighed. “Want a hand?”
“You don’t want it made, do you?” he mentioned softly as you crouched across from him, your gaze moving up to his. Jongdae smiled knowingly. “You never change, Y/N.”
“And you really want it finished.”
He nodded. “It’s stupid really. But I feel like I can’t leave you behind with anything unfinished. Even though I can drop by whenever, I feel this need to have everything in order for you since I won’t…”
“I hid the legs and kept moving them around the house,” you confessed and Jongdae let out a small laugh. You joined him, shaking your head, your tears splattering onto your pyjamas. “I guess it was the same for me. If you didn’t finish it, I had an immature thought that it meant you couldn’t leave.”
“We’re being foolish for a pair of adults, huh?”
You nodded. “It’s just a cabinet for goodness sake.”
“No, it’s something we started together,” he countered, sharing a sombre look with you. “It’s our project.”
“Well then, what are we waiting for?” you asked, wiping your hands on your pants and reached for the instruction manual. You then grinned over at Jongdae. “We’ll finish it the same way we started – together.”
The cabinet ended up in its final resting spot in the entryway to your home. You smiled at it when you opened the front door and Jongdae stepped inside, his hand immediately smoothing over the top of the furniture.
You laughed. “Do you come to visit me or that cabinet?”
“The cabinet, of course! I can’t see that when I come to meet you at the office.”
Rolling your eyes, you turned to look at the simple decoration you had on top of the piece of furniture. Your favourite photo of you and Jongdae sat in the middle of the other photos, the pair of you building blocks together as children. It seemed fitting to place it on top of the cabinet and you could tell Jongdae appreciated it too.
With him no longer here, you found yourself using that cabinet for everything. From leaning on it when you put on and took off your shoes each day and night, to storing all your key essentials and your extra goods in case of an emergency, it felt as if you still had a bit of Jongdae looking out for you with the cabinet.
You were just as fond of it as Jongdae was.
“So, you asked me over for what?” he wondered and you grinned, leading him into the spare room where you had opened up a new box, the supplies carefully set out to begin working on.
“Want to help me make this crib up?”
Jongdae grinned. “What about your husband?”
“I figured since we’re old pros at this, we ought to try and make something else together.”
Omgggg your Jongdae scenario was *chef’s kiss*!!!!!!!! Can u do a continuation pretty please? Maybe with 6 or 13!!!
😅...is it too late to complete this request?? sorry for the long wait, life happened oof
---
Jongdae + 6. “ Why didn’t you tell me? “ & 13 “ Shhh. I know. “
word count: 1.5k
Jongdae has made futile attempts to talk to you during his stay at the hotel.
You didn’t have it in you to wake up and have the same dance with him again, so last night, after Jongdae had fully succumbed to sleep, you wriggled out of his warm embrace to go home to your cold, empty bed that Jongdae once inhabited. Did you regretted it? Maybe.
Finally, a few days later, the charity event was due and you had no time to contemplate getting back together with Jongdae. While you weren’t the event planner, you still had responsibilities in partaking the event as the venue’s manager. Like taking the hits of any mishaps that arises which, with this event planner-- a snooty woman who finds no fault in her character, doesn’t hold herself accountable, and blames you for not having enough lights installed or not “providing competent workers”.
“Please give me permission to strangle this woman,” your assistant mutters under her breath besides you.
“Not if I do it first,” you retort back as you marked another task off your list.
The charity event is nothing if not just another opportunity for the richest of the rich to flaunt their wealth and make pretentious remarks about other’s personal business that was frankly, was none of their business. It was another glamorous night for the wives of some 40, 50, 60 year old men to gossip and spread groundless rumor around and their husbands to blatantly ogle the more “fresh meat”, whether for their sons and daughters to potentially marry for business gains or because men were gross and gazed at women as if it were a sport.
You laugh at the back of the room with your fellow workers as CEOs after CEOs and benefactors alike went on stage to give their speeches, spouting bull like how this charity helps people in need(which it does to some extent, you don’t argue that) and that pledgers should applaud themselves for being so benevolent(this, however, you scoff).
“I seriously doubt any of these people have a real benevolent bone in their body,” Yumi whispers to your small group, causing everyone to erupt into stifled snickers except for you.
If it wasn’t for the man sitting at one of those tables, you would’ve agreed wholeheartedly. You couldn’t when the man you love and showed you love was part of it.
You’ve tried with great effort to not find Jongdae in the mass of power and money hungry individuals but it wasn’t hard when he shined in your eyes. He’s dressed it an immaculate suit that he’s probably wearing for the first and last time. His raven hair styled to perfection, his posture stiff as a rock as he listened to one of the leading competitors of technology in medicine explain how pitiful sick individuals were and how much they need this group of millionaires to support them. You could look past the snobby character of these people, but the words they spouted was certainly something you’ll never let by-- something you never got used to while dating Jongdae especially. You watch the light in Jongdae’s eyes dimming as he glares vacantly into the air, and he stays like that for a few seconds, until he turns and meets your eyes. From where you stood in the shadows, you’re caught off guard that he catches your eyes so easily-- too easily.
He finally breaks it off when the audience starts applauding, for what, you don’t know, but him turning away finally pulls you out of your trance and you’re faced with the same reality that you were so viciously struck with when you first came to the realization: you and Jongdae can’t work.
Your heart feels heavy, constricting as it presses against your lungs and causing knots in your stomach to form. You feel utterly sick to your stomach as memories rushed through your head-- the condescending look, the animosity in his eyes as he told you to stay away if you knew what was good for you.
Before you know it, you had escaped and found yourself on the patio. There’s not a single soul around you, and making sure of that, you finally let yourself break ever so slightly. You curl into a squat, balling your arms around your knees, at the far corner in case someone does end up walking in. Breathing in for 4 seconds, releasing with 8, and repeating until you feel your racing heart begin to slow.
Suddenly, you feel a hand on your head, resting its weight enough to let you notice its presence. Had it not been for the all too familiar scent of Jongdae, you would’ve looked up and swat the person’s hand away. Now, you freeze in place, unable to look up because you knew it was him.
“Baby, look at me.”
You can’t.
Jongdae gently tugs off your hair tie, letting your hair fall from it’s ponytail, and as he threads his fingers through, you feel him massaging your scalp in a caressing manner.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was nothing to tell,” you answered vehemently, finally looking up at the man. God, he looked absolutely breathtaking. Intimidated by his stature hovering over you, you move to stand up while he follows. You continue speaking, “Your father was, is right. We don’t belong together. You’re you and I’m me, and that’ll never change, Jongdae.” You shrug your defeated shoulders. “Some things we just can’t change.”
His expression hardens when he hears your words. “Oh, you mean like my love for you?” He bites back.
“Stop. Stop it, Jongdae,” you stammered, backing up when you feel him leaning in.
“Well, you said it yourself, Y/N! Some things we can’t change. I still love you, and don’t try to bullshit me and tell me you don’t feel the same way. I know you do, too. I can’t change my father, but who the hell is he to change our love? You really think I care that we come from two different worlds? Fuck, Y/N, I was ready to get on my knees and propose to you! And then-- and then you go and tear my whole world apart and let me think that you really didn’t love me anymore. Do you know how much that broke me?”
Of course you knew. Jongdae, busy man or not, had spent the first week after you had broken up, begging you to reconsider, demanding to know what had gotten into you to cut him off out of the blue. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that it was his father who had infiltrated all these negative thoughts about your relationship with Jongdae. He made you doubt your ability to “survive” in the corporate world, to love Jongdae the way he deserved, and that’s where it truly affected you. Jongdae may be able to shower you with love and anything in the world he could buy, but what could you give him in return if not love? Sometimes, love isn’t enough.
“If you think it was easy for me,” you whispered, shaking your head which caused the tears that were brewing in your eyes to fall. “You weren’t the only one who was hurt. Do you even understand the shit I felt when I had to listen to your father as he told me how worthless I am to you? How easily you could replace me because I’m nothing-- a nobody? How me being with you was getting your name tarnished because you were supposed to marry one of his business partner’s daughter?”
Jongdae’s face contorted as he listened to the spiteful words that came from his own father. “I’ve told you before, Y/N, that I never promised him my hand to any one. It’s my fucking life, too.”
“And it’s not a life you would want to be spending with someone like me, Jongdae.” Your face cracked a smile, if nothing else, it’d hurt too much trying to fathom a life without Jongdae. More tears fell and before you could react, Jongdae was a breath away from you, thumbing the fallen ones from your cheeks.
“There is nothing in my life than you that I am sure of. You are my life,” Jongdae whispered on your skin before sealing it with a kiss on your forehead. And you really did believed him. Jongdae was the light of your life as much as you were his. He never once failed to make you feel loved, to make you feel more than enough for someone like him. In fact, he never pointed out that your lives were so different. He came into your life with full intent on loving you despite all else because you meant something to him. You meant the world to him.
“I,” you started but choked on a sob. Trying again, you mustered everything you had in you to let him know exactly how you felt. “I love you.” It felt like a weight had been taken off your heart; it soared with immense love-- love for this man in front of you who crushed you in a backbreaking embrace.
“Shhh. I know,” Jongdae hushes your sobs as he showered you with kisses on your head, ear, cheek, until he reached your lips. “I love you, too.”
Summary: A poet reminiscences about his old lover and their relationship in his new anthology, reminding himself of the importance of sincerity, and that love words are just as important spoken aloud as they are printed on paper.
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3
AUTHOR’S NOTE: since Jongdae’s Barista AU has been doing so well, I decided to switch the roles, so that Jongdae is now the poet. Also, April and a Flower is art in its purest form. So excited for Dear My Dear
Word Count: 4169
Jongdae walked out of his publisher’s office, his brand new book clutched by his side. His knuckles turning white with the force of his grip on the hardback copy - the very first printed one.
His fingers felt the rough green material cover, focusing on its imperfections. The book felt heavier than it was; rougher. He could feel the effort with which he bled ink into paper, and he could hear the clicking of the computer keys like a ghost of an echo in his ears. This was the heaviest book he had written. Not because physical weight, nor the number of pages that had ended up in the final print. No, it was a different type of weight. The weight of a heavy heart; crushing his chest, beating despite the damage. It was the weight of emotional baggage he had spilled- the printing ink might as well have been made out of his tears
I spilled all my love for you
As ink on paper
How could I forget
To fill you up first.
Yes, this anthology was born of pain, and regret; and somewhat bitterly, he thought it was best one he had ever written. It was heavy, and so damn hard to write he had spent many a sleepless night staring at the lined paper of his notepad, locked away in his office. Alone.
It had been a long time since Jongdae had been this hollow, a cavern carved out of his chest, the inflamed tissue now a home for despair rather than a heart.
He had only himself to blame. Jongdae did not shy away from admitting his wrongs. The least he could do was admit them and leave behind any self-pity festering in his broken heart like an infection.
Instead he did what he knew how to do best; he spilled all his sorrows and apologies as ink onto paper.
Ironically, that ability, this dysfunctional coping mechanism, was the very reason he was in the predicament in the first place.
Your love for me was like an inkwell; never drying
And I,
I was like a pen,
Which drew from you forever.
I did not notice,
How you dried up in silence,
Blinded by the illusion of your infinity.
Sometimes the best things in your life; the best people, leave. Sometimes you leave them. It is all a vicious cycle of life. A part of life he had recently became intimate with. Nothing lasts forever. All is finite. All good things must come to an end.
Still Jongdae’s biggest regret of all, was the fact you didn’t have to be finite.
If only he had paid more attention to you, instead of drowning in ink and pretty words, he could have continued on. With you by his side.
He had left the building of his publishing company, glancing up at the sky. The heavens were heavy this morning, overcast with clouds so dark and looming day had taken on the look of night. There was no rain yet, but Jongdae was sure that at some point the clouds would be unable to hold their weight, and the rain would come in a violent storm. Like any other summer.
The inkwell is empty and when the pen immerses
It comes back dry,
Leaving the words I wanted to write,
To remain a whim.
The ride back to his apartment was quiet, the sky still ominous, but Jongdae knew that the calmness, and the stillness were bad omens. The calm before the storm. The only question that bugged him was when the sky would open, pouring its tears onto the ground from the sky in a hail of bullets.
He wondered how loud the heavens would roar as it happened. Would it feel as if the windows were shaking? Would he be able to feel it in his bones, despite tucking himself away in his apartment?
Would it shake him the same way you leaving him did?
He doubted that- nature didn’t have the same kind of power. A storm was not a woman; although it was eerily similar in its magnitude.
He flicked through the anthology, finally taking the time to appreciate the work and effort put into its creation. The cream coloured pages stared at him with hundreds of ink eyes. Their looks were accusing, and among the black letters, he saw you. Your eyes, clear and sparkling in the way they looked at you, your smile bright. He reminisced the adoration with which he looked at you those the last few years, eyes wide and sparkling at everything you did. The corners of his lips quirked upwards in a cat-like smile at the happy memories.
Finally, after the present settled over him again, pulling him out of the happy daydream, his smile fell, and the light feeling in his chest, and the way his heart beat a little faster at the memory of your soft lips against his left him too. It left him cold and aching despite being hidden away safely within his home, His heart nestled safely in in his chest, protected by the cage of his ribs.
Light brown eyes moved to look out the window, the world outside brightened by flashes of lightning. On the table before him, the vase of red tulips was wilting, the petals falling gracelessly against the windowsill, no longer their vibrant red, but rather a burgundy colour fading into brown.
Like flowers on the windowsill,
I forgot that unlike the ones growing wild in meadows,
The rain shall not come water you,
And that dew shall not condense on you like the pearls,
Which I never gave you.
You sat in your old room, surveying its blank walls. When you moved out, your parents took down all the posters, and drawings you stuck on the pastel green paint. It was the decision you made at thirteen, and the decision you cursed all your Uni years. A decision you had accepted over time. Now you found the colour soothing and familiar, and in a world where you were always moving, you were glad for the little comfort it brought you. It was still your room.
Now, with the turn of events, you moved back, and you were ready to reclaim your space; the tubes and frames at your feet were the beginning.
One photo was staring at you, of you, a little younger, smiling along with the man beside you. You were in a meadow filled with wild flowers you had frequented with you mother when you were little. You remembered the raspberry bushes you used to pick fruit from, and you remember making flower crowns from the chamomile growing there.
You had taken that man there. Showed him all your favourite things; the meadow, the raspberry bushes, the sketchbook filled with gouache paintings. He showed you the ink splattered notebooks and the small coffee shop at the end of the street.
But the sunny days were over. The storm raged outside, thunder clashing in the darkness. And the raspberry bushes were gone too, and concrete blocks had taken their place.
And the man no longer showed you the world with ink stained fingers either.
But he had not showed you anything for a long time now, even before you left your shared apartment. So you left him. It had felt like he had left you a long time before you did.
Your mother’s voice broke you from your musings, and you left your room surprised to see her standing in the corridor with a brown package. She handed it to you wordlessly and disappeared into the kitchen. The look she gave you was piercing, and there was a certain amount of concern floating behind her soft eyes. You tightened the grip on the flimsy paper that wrapped around the object, and you could already feel that it was book.
For a moment you didn’t understand why it came; you certainly didn’t order one, but the look in your mothers eyes was enough to tell you who it was from.
“So he did finish.” You murmured, hands tearing at the paper in desperation, giving way to the soft green of the cover.
Flowers in April
The golden lettering was delicate and beautiful, and you wondered why he mailed it to you. You were no longer together. You walked out months ago. You were moving on.
Opening the book, your attention was caught by the handwritten note on the front page, the black pen standing in stark contrast against the off-white paper.
“To my muse.
I thought it would only be fair to give this to you, after all you had suffered because of it. You should at least know why you were suffering.
I’m sorry for all my shortcomings.
- Jongdae”
Your eyes followed the trail of the pen, his handwriting familiar from the little notes he used to leave for you, and the shopping lists that were stuck to your fridge.
The ache of your heart was familiar too, familiar from all the nights he ignored you, and every time you sat at the dinner table alone with only the tv to keep you company. The heart in your chest ached for your loneliness, but it also ached for the home that was long gone, the home you did not wish to return to and the man who occupied it now. This time, he was the one eating dinner at the empty table, sleeping in bed alone and you had no pity for him left.
But you are not a flower,
You were a woman.
You are a woman.
And I,
was not a pen,
But a man.
Jongdae listened to the thunder raging outside, shaking his windows, turning his day into night with anger.
That was one of the ways You and the storm were different. You did not shout, you were not like the storm, shaking the windows in their frames and destroying things in the wake of your rage. You had left quietly, given back the keys to your shared home, and before he could protest, make an excuse for his absence, you had left without a word, leaving no trace behind but the cracks in his heart.
7 months ago
You came back from work, ready to order takeaway and watch films with your boyfriend. The weariness in your bones weighed you down as you made your way up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to climb under a blanket in the living room, wrapped in Jongdae’s arms.
The door opened, and you caught the sight of him at the kitchen counter, his phone in hand, calling someone.
“Jongdae, do you want pizza?” You asked, looking up at the leaflet you had stuck on the fridge. You turned to face him, weariness leaving your bones at the hope of spending the evening in peace. The lightness does not last long, and he crushes it in his hands, unknowingly, without a thought.
“I’m busy.” The words leave you heavy. You know them too well now it seems. Jongdae had been like this for a while, more preoccupied with phone calls and writing than sparing you a moment. Just like you, he seems tired, but for a different reason. One you do not know, and one is not willing to share.
“What about watching a film later?” You try again, hoping. Being foolish. Deep down you know the answer already, feel the rejection before it comes. Your heart has been breaking recently. The cracks started growing deeper, and you don’t know how to mend them.
“I don’t know.” He tells you, his soft voice cold and indifferent, eyes not looking at you when he speaks, and with another crack, you realise he hadn’t looked at you since you arrived.
PRESENT
You had walked out of your office, your hands now empty as you left your portfolio and necessary documents with the client. You had finalised the designs this week and everything was ready for editing.
You were given the task of illustrating a reprint of a popular book series recently, and you had been very proud of your work. So far it was one of the biggest projects you have done. It seemed you were riding the lucky wave. Your boss had given you a slight raise as you moved to a better position at the company. This project had been a success, and the company was contracted for another project, and the clients had requested you.
It was time to celebrate.
You had invited your friends out for a few drinks later that night.
The bar had a chic vibe to it. Everything was made of sleek wood and toned down colours, coupled with the dim lighting and pretty chandeliers, it was a perfect place for you to unwind and gloat your success. You didn’t get to do it every day.
You were sipping on you third cocktail, your three friends laughing at some work gossip. It had been a pleasant night so far. That is, until you caught the eyes of Jongdae’s publisher. The woman had averted her eyes when she saw you looking, but you could still make out the displeased look on her face, and the sour curl of her red lips.
The black dress she was wearing was fancy. Fancier than what you wore, but it did not bother you. not until your eyes found the one person you hoped not to see that night.
It was not that you hated him. It was not that you loathed him. It was that you resented him. For how he had treated you; spent the last months of your relationship ignoring you. As if you didn’t live right there with him. As if you didn’t share his bed. As if you were not irrevocably in love with him.
Your heart broke all over again, seeing him here, with the beautiful woman opposite him, when he had said he was too busy to come here with you.
His eyes caught yours. Their soft brown drawing you in with their warmth. He was still familiar, he still looked too much like home to you. And in your slightly intoxicated state, you saw the regret and remorse bubbling behind the kaleidoscope of browns in his irises. Or maybe you just wished to see it.
You didn’t want to find out.
“He’s here.” You turned to your friends, and the moment they realised who you were talking about, they had made their way to the bar.
“Can we get a tequila?” Your friend asked, bringing over a whole bottle of the alcohol, along with four shot glasses.
“What’s that for?” You asked, surveying the glass wearily.
“For the fun of it.” She told you, the cheeky smile that formed on her lips matched the flame in her eyes.
“You are beautiful. Never forget that.” She told you as you took your first shot.
Only when I had lost you, I realised
That you, like an inkwell
Needed to be filled.
And like a flower,
Needed to be watered;
With words of love,
Looks of awe,
With warmth.
6 months ago
“I’m eating with the editors.” Jongdae told you as he fixed his tie in the hallway mirror, barely sparing you a glance into the kitchen. You had spent the last hour making his favourite, hoping against hope he would stay for dinner. Turned out you were trying in vain.
“I thought we could eat together.” You told him, your voice small, barely above a whisper as the hope fuelled elation left your body.
“Not today.” Jongdae said, his voice softer, sounding resigned as his shoulders hunched a little. He had been feeling tired lately, bored. For now, he wanted to leave. Get out of the familiar four walls, breathe in some fresh air.
Dinner with the editors was a good reason to leave. Besides, he was in the process of writing his third anthology, and it was an important meeting he had to attend. Jongdae needed everything to go smoothly.
His hands fell to his sides when he stopped fixing his tie, and you barely heard the quiet goodbye that left his lips. Or maybe you just imagined he said it. Lately, you couldn’t figure out which it was.
Tears burned the back of your eyes, but you didn’t let any spill. Outside, Jongdae had put his head in his hands breathing deeply, before getting in the car and driving away.
You felt him climb into bed late in the night, but he never moved closer. He used to brush your hair back and kiss your forehead before falling asleep, but now he stayed far away, and you had been colder in your bed with him than you would feel with a stranger.
And your heart broke.
PRESENT
Jongdae found your form in between the tables, eyes glued to the side of your face, feeling more like a spectre than a man. His heart roared in his chest, beating against his ribs the way an animal beat at the bars of their cage. The way it had not done in months. For a moment, the moment that lasted a split second when your eyes met, he felt more alive than the last few months.
His anthology had been a success, and he had come in to celebrate that. Still, the biggest celebration, better than wine and better than gin, was the sight of you.
His publisher had seen it, the way his eyes fell on you, again and again. Jongdae, for the life of him, could not understand the way her lips curled when she caught your eyes. He was too preoccupied with stealing glances your way to pay attention to her.
Everything about you called to him, reminding him of his love for you. Reviving the passion you had shared, setting his whole body aflame. The sight of you flowed over him like water, cold and refreshing. He was awake. For the first time in forever he felt lucid.
“Well done Jongdae. Your anthology had just become a bestseller.” His publisher told him, reaching over the table to hold his hand. He brought it back instantly as if it burned.
Over the course of the last months he had figured out what he done wrong. He had admitted his shortcomings. And he had promised himself to be better, for you. He was not going to ruin it tonight.
Sitting among your friends, you were glowing. Dressed in your best dress, eyes sparkling as laughter bubbled from your chest. It was a warming sight, like watching flowers unravelling in the spring. And his heart wretched when he realised, he wasn’t the reason for your joy any longer.
Now, you, like a wildflower,
Are experiencing spring again,
After a harsh winter.
You are spreading your petals,
And green leaves.
And I, like a fool,
Stare at the empty windowsill,
Not seeing you.
I cannot water you anymore,
And pearls, like dew
I cannot give you.
He watched you stand up and make your way to the exit, and without a moment of hesitation, he was out of his chair too, making a bee line to you, heart pounding at the idea of you.
He caught you by the elbow as you turned away from the bar.
“Jongdae.” You warned him, voice low as you stared right into his eyes. Jongdae’s eyes were soft when he looked at you, and you could make out their glassy sheen of tears in the darkness.
“I know what I did wrong.” He told you, sincerity lacing his voice, thick with remorse and deeper than usual. You could feel the desperation rolling off of him like waves.
He was wearing a nice suit today. A deep grey with a bluish tinge, and a white button up underneath. His fringe was parted, exposing his forehead and the straight brows that furrowed as he looked into your eyes, searching for something. Whatever it was; forgiveness or hate, he didn’t find it.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
“That is how I find out?” You spat. He knew you were talking about the anthology.
“You didn’t call.” You accuse him, poking a finger against his chest, and he lets you.
“I wrote it.” He tells you, silently begging for you to understand. But you won’t. Not this time. You had told him already; tell me what happened, tell me why you didn’t talk to me.
Instead, he wrote an anthology, spilling all of it on paper. Just like he always did. Just like you suspected he always would. And you had grown tired of that. He spilled all his emotions onto paper, dressed hem up in pretty words and rhymes. Devoted his time into doing so. By doing that he left you alone, and as he spilled all the love he had for you somewhere else, you were left to give him your love. Over the last months of yoir relationship, all the little acts of love had ceased to exist. There was no notes left on the fridge, there was no flowers on the vase on the table.
“You did.” You tell him, disappointment rolling off your tongue, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
The whole world now knew you broke his heart. The whole world knew you left him without a word. But did the world know how he had left you, months before you left him? How you had sat at dinner alone and slept alone. Did they know that? Did Jongdae tell them that? Did he write about his faults?
You didn’t know, and you didn’t know if you wanted to find out.
“Y/N.” He starts, but there is nothing that comes out of his mouth, and you shake your head. Desperately wanting him to understand. Because despite everything, you still love him, but you cannot live like this, like a stranger that shares his bed at night.
“I don’t think you figured it out quite yet.” You tell him when he stays silent, not knowing what to say. You find it amusing. A poet lost for words.
“I didn’t pay attention.” He confesses, looking defeated.
“I locked myself away and tried to run from you.” He tells you, walking closer, his wide eyes looking straight into your own.
“I was too proud to say something was wrong. Too proud to admit that I was doing something wrong.” He admitted, hands balled into fists. For a moment he averts his gaze, looking everywhere but you, before bringing it back to you, eyes red with unshed tears, shoulders shaking with frustration.
“I wasn’t sincere. I should have told you then, that I love you, instead of keeping it to myself. I thought you knew, but no one can read minds.”
“I’m sorry.” He tells you, and you know he is apologising for his actions. All but the writing. You could see the ink stains on his fingers even now. You had accepted him writing, locking himself up for a week and coming out a dying man. You have accepted that. But you have not accepted the way he treated you then, and you were not going to accept ever again.
“I’m not ready to accept your apology.” You tell him, voice even, and you seem calm as he looks at you with the hopeful spark fading from his eyes.
“Why didn’t you just,” You begin, searching for the right words, “Why didn’t you tell me then?” You finally ask, referring to the poems in the anthology. Love poems- all directed at you, written from the very beginning of your relationship.
“I didn’t know how.” He admits, wrapping his arms around you, burying his nose in your hair.
“You should have done this earlier.” You tell him, hugging him back, feeling like you have come back home for the first time in months.
“I know.” He whispers, caressing your hair, bringing you closer by the shoulders, until he envelops you.
“I know.” He mumbles again, and you listen to his heart beating out of his chest.
You move away, letting him go, before giving him one last look.
“I’m glad you know. Goodbye Jongdae.” You tell him, your voice soft, without any hint of malice. You seem content. You feel content. This was you leaving on your own terms. You loved him. of course you loved him. Sometimes though, you think, love is not enough. It does not keep you warm at night, or less lonely. Sometimes love is not given equally as it should. So you leave, walk away without turning back, knowing now where it was that he had spilled all his love- into words. You thought, that maybe, just maybe- Jongdae loved his words more than he loved you.
Jongdae followed your retreating figure walking back to your friends, glowing like the sun. As he was left in the dark night outside the bar, alone.
Summary: You loved him for years. You knew that. He knew that. Everyone knew that. The looks you give him isn’t so surprising to anyone anymore. But, to your pleasure, that didn’t stop you two from being friends. And that also didn’t stop the fact that he’s in love with someone else.
I // II // III // IV // V // VI // VII // VIII // IX // F //
“Where were you last night?”
You hummed, “somewhere.”
“I saw a car pull up at 4:00 a.m, though.” Joy joined in, smirking at you, “ooh, getting down and dirty.”
“Don’t, we’re eating,” you widened your eyes at her, “and maybe if certain people didn’t leave me, I would’ve been home earlier.”
“I already said sorry!” Ria complained, groaning, “blame him!” Pointing at Sehun, hearing that, he made face, imitating Ria with a mocking tone.
“What happened last night anyway?” Chanyeol asked, getting more food for himself.
“I got sick.” Sehun lied, he saw you raising your brow at him, he smirked, “we would’ve told her to come home with us but she was busy flirting with someone.” He shrugged.
Not surprisingly, the whole gang started to cheer, you felt embarassed, you’ve always been the center of attention of your friends, especially in this kind of topic, but it never failed to make you blush.
You, unknowingly, lifted your head to see how he reacted. Your shyness immediately turned into burning jealousy when you saw him nuzzle and pepper Mina’s neck with little kisses as she beautifully laugh at the comments of your friends about your lovelife, putting his arm around her.
You sighed, will it always be like this?
Weeks have passed, and yes, it has always been like that, and I tell you, it had been hard. Mina and Baekhyun have been closer than ever. You can’t even remember the time you last talked to each other alone and have your bestfriend all for yourself.
The treatment towards Mina became warmer, too. It started when you practically begged your friends to stop treating her like that because you couldn’t stand the hurt on Baekhyun’s face when he caught the energy the gang has been giving Mina whenever they talk to her. You didn’t want him to hate you, you didn’t want him to think that you’re the one who started the hate towards the girl he loves.
You had always been in the corner, and cluelessly paid attention to him, to them. It’s like the automatic response once he enters the room is to stare. You’ve seen him shower her with hugs and kisses when he thought no one was looking, you’ve seen how he smile at her, you’ve seen how he gave her his undivided attention. You’ve always felt like crying, but right now? You’re looking at them as he does just that but you’re not feeling anything anymore. You’re finally numb and you’re not sure if it’s a good thing or not.
You can’t help but imagine yourself in her position. What would you do if he treated you like that? You felt your heartbeat quicken by just the thought of it. No, I’d pass out everytime. You sighed, wishful thinking always gets the best of you.
The funny thing is that you’re trying to move on. You might stare at him, a lot. But, you’re trying. You’ve been meeting Jongdae once and a while and he’s been giving you new lists of people to date everytime you meet, it was ridiculous, yes but you can’t help but smile at his shenanigans.
You thought he was a silent one when you first met, mostly because you were the one who did all the talking when he drove you to a certain part of the city. Eventually, he opened up to you and oh god, was he loud?
Your phone vibrated, you laughed as soon as you saw it:
From: jon deep
let’s meet, i’m in the coffee shop rn, and if you’re not here in 15mins i’ll force you on a date with a viking
To: jon deep
what’s wrong with vikings you’re being really insensitive
From: jon deep
>:(
You wasted no time, you stood up and fixed your things, getting ready to meet him.
You cleared your throat to get their attention, “I’m going out for a while,” you told them, smiling shyly.
“Meeting loverboy?”
“You should invite him here for a drink, you know, we would like to meet him.” Junmyeon looked at you, clearly not asking you to introduce Jongdae but telling you to introduce him.
You briefly nodded, Junmyeon is that friend you can never say no to because you’re somewhat afraid of him even if he’s a great friend and a sweetheart.
You left without noticing his stare as you walked away.
“You’re a minute late, missy. You really wanted that date, huh.” He immediately teased you the moment you entered the cafè, rolling your eyes, you took a seat.
“What, now?”
“Oh yeah, okay,” he started, clearing his throat, “so I met this guy named Jae and he’s amazing, he sings really well-”
“Baekhyun sings really well, too. I can’t with Jae.” You said, hiding you smile as you sipped from the iced coffee Jongdae bought for you.
You were, absolutely not, going to a date with anyone you don’t know, but seeing Jongdae like this, driven in finding you a guy to meet so that you could finally move on from Baekhyun makes you laugh so you let him. He’s adorable.
“Oh, okay…” he lifted his head and stared ahead to think, “what about Baekbeom? He’s-”
You cut him off, “really? Baekbeom?” You emphasized the word ‘Baek’ to prove your point.
He giggled, “okay, maybe not.”
He continued on suggesting men to you, hoping that he’d catch your interest but you always found an excuse as to why you can’t date the guy for the rest of the time. He gave up the moment you rejected the 6th guy and whined at you for being so picky.
“Oh, and Jongdae…” he hummed, “my friends wants to meet you…”
He snapped his eyes at you, “why?”
“They think I’m dating you,” you sighed, “I tried to convince them that I’m not but they won’t believe me,” you pouted, “they’re planning to have a drink later, would you come?”
"Of course."
“Stop staring at them.” Jongdae whispered right beside your ear.
You whined, “I can’t.”
It’s been hours since this party started. You introduced Jongdae to them and it actually surprised you that they welcomed him, telling you that it’s because you’ve been smiling a lot lately, and they think it’s because of him, which made you blush the whole time. Jongdae talked to them as well with his enthusiasm and playful nature, they loved him even more.
You’ve been drinking since then, venting out your frustrations to Jongdae as he sat beside you in a corner, watching you glare at the happy couple. You’re partly glad that they don’t notice you like that because that would’ve made you look bitter but a part of you wanted them to know so that they could stop touching and kissing each other.
You sighed, “I need to breathe.”
You didn’t wait for his reply and stood up, bringing a bottle of beer with you outside.
The moment you stepped out, the cold wind hit you. Your hair flying away from your face, the wind drying your tears as you drank. I thought I was numb already, you laughed bitterly.
You sat down and went for another sip of the beer but you found out it was already empty. You sighed, lying down on the grass, you stared at the stars glowing above you as you wallow in self-pity.
As you were getting lost at the sight, you felt something brush against your arm, “they’re beautiful, aren’t they? The stars.”
The moment you heard his voice, you felt like crying. You felt like breaking down because you finally heard his voice, the voice you’ve been wanting to hear close to you like this for the past month. Your heart ached for him, so much that all you wanted to do was to grab him right there and indulge yourself with his warmth.
You smiled, “They are.”
Silence embraced you for a moment. Though, it’s neither tense nor awkward. It was comforting. This is the first time you felt peace growing inside you. You knew he remains your peace even if he was the one who caused the chaos. Your peace.
You felt his hand coming in contact with yours. He held your cold hand in his, warmth spreading through your whole body. “I missed you, angel.”
This time, you couldn’t hold back the tear that escaped your eye, sliding down your cheek all the way down your ear. You breathed, “me too, B.”
You stayed like that for a while, his hand firmly holding yours, his thumb softly tracing shapes on your soft skin. You two breathing slowly, you closed your eyes.
“What if she’s the one?” He whispered, barely audible yet you heard it.
You felt the familiar pang in your chest, tears stung your eyes, you chuckled, “she has always been your one.”
As if on cue, you heard her voice calling his name, you were sure he heard him too yet he didn’t move at all. It took few more calls until he removed his hold on you and helped you stand up.
He smiled, “duty calls.”
“Yeah.” Forcing out a laugh, you looked at your feet. After one last hold on your shoulder, he was gone.
The tears you’ve been trying so hard to stop, started streaming down your cheeks. You stood there outside covering your face with your hands, letting all the tears and pain out.
Once you calmed down, you walked back inside, flopping beside Jongdae, he called your name, “hey,”
“I… I thought of coming outside to comfort you but I thought you needed space.” He said, worriedly, his hands sliding down and up on your back to comfort you.
You drank another one and another one and another one, to your pleasure, Jongdae didn’t stop you, he knew you needed that.
His hand never left your body, you looked at him. Your eyes hazy, you felt dizzy after all the alcohol you consumed. You broke the eye contact and blinked for a few times, trying to clear your vision, “I think you should rest.”
He stood up, starting to help you when you stopped him, your hands tightly gripping his arms. You looked into his eyes, whispering, “thank you.”
Unknowingly, you’re coming closer, your eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips, your head throbbed. He breathed your name, you looked at him, “please, take it all away.” Unshed tears blurred your vision, “please.”
“Hey,”
He was so close you felt his controlled breath, he smelled so nice, it made you feel even more lightheaded, you looked into his eyes one last time before you leaned in, your lips touching his.
Sometimes you really can’t believe your bad luck. The city is so big, and yet you have to meet him here, in the middle of the street. You try to take a deep breath as all your brain can think is Seriously?! What are the odds?
Jongdae looks at you from the distance and he freezes. You realize what probably shocked him and you want to laugh, but you just can’t. You can’t move actually. You want to run, to go away, to disappear. But your body isn’t responding.
It’s been two years. Two years since you broke up, and you haven’t talk to him. Not even once, not a text, not a phone call, not even a reaction in your Instagram stories. Anything. To be fair that was easy because he blocked you from every social media he could. It’s OK, you actually asked him to do it. You thought it would be easier that way.
Silly you.
You watch as he gets closer to you, hesitating at every step. You see everything in slow motion and you hear a shy “Hi” coming out of his lips, but you can’t think properly. You finally react when he speaks again, louder this time.
“Can I hug you?”
You raise your head to look at him. He looks handsome, his hair shorter and his eyes more tired that you were used to. But still so, so handsome.
You nod and try not to cry when his arms embrace you. It’s an awkward hug, you realize he’s tense around you, and you remember your first thought when you saw him freezing earlier.
Exactly. He’s looking at the baby sleeping in the pram in front of you.
He smiles as you know he does when he wants to be polite. But his eyes are something else. An expression you can’t totally read right now. Affection, but distance at the same time. He’s unsure of what to say and you see him shyer than before.
“Is- Is she your-”
“No, no… She’s my niece.” And you can’t keep talking because a nervous laughter escapes your mouth and you want to die.
“Oh” he sounds surprised. “Oh!” he lets out again, this time with a little chuckle of relieve. “She looks just like her mother.”
You know it’s true. And you know he feels like an idiot for not saying anything else. You want to tell him everything about her, how proud she makes you, and how much you love her. And you also want to tell him how much you miss him. But you feel so nervous that your mouth opens to say something even worse. You can’t help the words coming out of your mouth and you regret them instantly.
“My Sundays are not the same without you.”
You feel paralyzed, and yet he starts talking immediately. He answers you confidently, but with hurt clear in his voice.
“You know we both agreed on this. We knew it would be hard, and of course we miss each other. But you wanted this.”
You just hear him talk and it almost sounds like he had the speech prepared, and you wonder if he ever had this same debate with himself.
He probably did.
He keeps talking and you can’t think straight. He, on the other hand, seems more confident about what he’s saying and all the shyness is leaving his gaze. “You even made me block you from every social media platform!”
You sigh. As if that would stop you from thinking about him. As if that would prevent you from asking your friends about his life. You really wish you could block your feelings. Stop missing him, stop wanting him so bad.
You wish you could say that. You wish you could say so many things. I thought it would be easier, for starter.
I wish you could understand me.
I still think about you every day.
I still love you.
But you know that won’t help. Even though he probably loves you too. Because what you had was so deep, so extreme, that you’re sure you both will never be able to love so much again. You’ll never feel as loved and wanted as you did when you were around him.
You remember how everything felt perfect if you were together.
The thing is, everything was extreme between you two.
“You are right” you pant, finally, and you wonder how long you were immerse in your own thoughts and memories. “We both agreed on this.” You try to sound as calmed as you can as you keep talking. “Things were not working out, Jongdae”
“We argued almost every day.” Is all he can answer. This time you know it’s not a speech. This time the feelings are real. And now, just like you, he looks unsure and upset. He’s looking at the floor and you think that he’s probably regretting so many things as well.
“We did. It was not healthy.” You stop talking because you really don’t want to remember all the arguments and fights. They still hurt you and it was obviously affecting him too.
His hand moves to the back of his head and he takes a deep breath while playing with his hair. At that moment you hear your niece starting to cry, and you take her in your arms.
“I know princess. It’s starting to get cold, we should take you home to mommy.” And just like that you smile at him, reaching over to give him one last awkward hug.
Jongdae doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you as you walk away, humming a soft song to the baby.
You knew he probably has doubts as well. And even if you try really hard not to think about it, even if you know you have to move on, deep inside you think you can’t do it. You know you miss him and you feel no one would ever love you the way he did.
You feel dizzy and stop your walk, trying to make your mind one last time.
One final decision.
You take a deep breath, and feeling brave, you turn your head to look behind you.
He’s not there.
Of course he’s not.
You grab your niece tighter, closer to you, as all the tears you’ve been holding finally come out.
“Don’t worry about your aunt, princess. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
