❛·° closed — @brsejoo.
HE TRIED NOT TO THINK ABOUT it anymore: all it ever did was open old wounds that didn’t heal correctly ( they never did and they never would ). loss wasn’t a weight that diminished with time — all it did was wear him down, and zemin was tired of being tired. he was tired of the anger, the bitterness, but at the end of the day anger was such a simple feeling compared to anything else. he wore it like armor on a soldier. he wore it without regrets.
even then, the boy broke, every once in a while, and the universe reminded him just how lonely he was — and that maybe, he truly stood alone in his struggles. he remembered a simpler time, one where sejoo had been one of many colors he painted his days with, and zemin had clung onto the older in hopes of maybe, just maybe, one day being something more.
puppy love was pathetic. he had learned the hard way.
when zemin lost his parents he had lost sejoo too — ridding himself of the older, discarding him like their friendship had never mattered. but it had, and seeing him around inevitably still hurt from time to time.
it was just his luck that he found himself accidentally locked into a smaller reading room in the library alone with sejoo. the door was jammed and zemin let out another groan as he tried to break it down once more, not being able to stand the thought of another minute shared with sejoo. soon though, the young hunter had to admit the defeat. «fuck this fucking door.»