Title: Rejection
Characters: Eunhyuk/Eunhyuk
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 600
Summary: Parts of a love he couldn't leave behind swallow him whole on his way out the door.
A/N: This is.. Pretty much how messed up my mind is right now. If you are not good at seeing images behind words, this might not mean the slightest bit to you. It might be weird to some, very strange to others, but it is as it is now, because this is what came out of me. The first piece I write in weeks after having a writing slump. I don't expect anything from myself anymore.
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There’s words at the tips of his fingers but they won’t come out. He just sits, stares at the screen and thinks that maybe – just maybe – this is all it gets. But then there’s flashes of memories and distant giggles and laughter, and he figures that there’s more than this, but he just doesn’t have it at the moment.
So he paints his questions to the world with the brush of his life and he tears her words straight out of her mouth before she can even say them. It’s funny how she does so much yet so little at the same time, while somewhere distantly far away, he sits and watches her, wondering how it would be if she used those hands for what they were meant to instead of for the work she does to pay her bills.
But it’s useless, trying to make holes in what she considers her daily routine, because he knows she will just fill them up again with to do’s and to let go of’s. She’s silent as she walks through the hallways of her future, doing some interior designing in her mind. She picks the paintings that will grace the walls, writes the invites for the ones she wants to walk there with her as she smiles that toothy smile that is so her.
He figures it’s time for him to turn away and look at his own hallway of the future, but he sees nothing but black and empty, a world that deserves no paintings or guest invites, because who would he want to drag along into something like that? He tried to make it look brighter by installing some lights and adding some variations, yet it all seems useless as the floor is covered in dust and the electricity doesn’t work.
For once, he finds himself really thinking that maybe – just maybe – this is all it will get from now on, that somewhere between blankets and faded jeans he lost touch with reality and she will not come back to him, but it’s hard to really accept that idea, so he lets go of it again. There’s a slight touch of gentle in the way she closes the door in front of him when he tries to enter her hallway, but there’s also a certain feel of finality that makes him realise this is really it.
So he drags himself back to his own place of darkness and despair, tries to stumble his way from one door to the next, clinging onto the little strands of hope that are his insanity. It feels alright to go insane if it takes him through the day, so he just lets go of his mind, his desires and runs, runs with eyes wide open into the vicinity of his life.
Two steps before he reaches freedom, he stumbles over reality and falls face down on the floor with no hopes of getting up again and he feels like it’s alright that way, so he doesn’t try to get up anymore, despite the hands pulling at his shirt and arms. He feels like going down is the only chance of getting away of it all, so he doesn’t care about the ones he leaves behind and just falls, dives deeper and deeper into the forgotten.
It’s five years after the break-up when he dies due to a drunken driver hitting him on the side of the road, but the last thing he sees before darkness pulls him in is that toothy smile that is so much her and he lets go with a smile.
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