Characters: Donghae, Hyukjae
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2.135
Summary: Losing something dear is the wors feeling there is.
A/N: I wrote this because I made a new friend and she seems to bring something to life in me that consists of Eunhae, angst and so many things I just can't explain. I told her I felt like writing broken Eunhae and then I just did. So this is broken Eunhae. It's all angst, all of it, and so far it made two people cry already. Yay. Hope you enjoy. If not... Hope you don't notice me sneaking away at the side to escape your wrath.
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There’s something about being sad that is hard to let go of.
Something about crying that makes you want to crawl into a heap of a mess and cry forever.
Something about getting hurt that gets you to take the bloody knife and stab yourself a few times more just because.
Losing something dear is the worst feeling there is. Especially when you’re so utterly convinced you’ll never lose it that you’re too blind to notice it slipping away until it’s gone. There’s a kind of finality in losing what you love the most, a feeling of everything ending, even when you still have so many possibilities to go on. The world seems like a dark place, reality gets turned into a twisted kind of hell and sleep is a sanctuary of peace and happy dreams you never actually want to wake up from.
He’s tired. Tired of trying. Tired of holding on to things he’s being forced to let go of. He’s trying to figure out ways to ease himself out of this thing they have become but it’s not working. It will never work. And somehow, he doesn’t really want it to work. He wants to keep holding on.
They’ve both been screaming at each other for a while now, sore throats, dry mouths, hoarse voices. He doesn’t even remember what started the fight, he just knows that at some point it started and now they’re yelling things the other’s not even listening to anyway.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, but the other is too busy yelling over the sound of his own disappointment to notice. He feels the tears seeping into his eyes, ready to make their way over his cheeks, but he turns away before they can. He doesn’t want to show how much he still cares, so he takes the other’s angry shouts at his back as he retreats to their room, closing the door behind him and crawling into bed.
He allows himself to cry there, under the compact privacy of the blanket, until he feels like he’s going to pass out because of a lack of oxygen. When he sticks his head out from underneath the blanket, the air in the room is cold on his wet cheeks and he feels stupid for crying over stupid things. He feels stupid for loving a stupid person too, but then again; two stupid people together should match perfectly, no?
He lets his eyes slid closed and tries to sleep, tries to lose himself in the vastness of his imagination, even though he knows he won’t be able to for at least another hour. It’s right when he feels himself float off into oblivion a select few hours later that the sound of the door opening and closing wakes him up completely again. The bed dents a little under the other’s weight and soon there’s fingers gently stroking his cheek, brushing over the skin that’s still sensitive from all the tears.
“You should undress a little.” a soft whisper reaches his ear. “You’re going to be cold tomorrow morning.” He murmurs something of a disagreement, adds some sounds that mean he’s tired and wants to sleep and lets out an annoyed grunt when the fingers don’t go away. The gentleness doesn’t change either, however, and a kiss is pressed on his cheek. “I don’t want to argue over this too, Hae. I’m sorry. Please just take off your jeans at least.”
He doesn’t move at first, but right before he passes out again, he does reach down, unbuttons his pants and kicks them out. It doesn’t take long for cold feet to get pressed against his warm legs and slender arms to be wrapped around his body, making him smile in contentment.
It’s much easier to lean into the touch than he feared it would be and as he hides his face in the crook of the other’s neck, sneaking his arms around the almost non-existing middle, he realises just how much he loves the other and how much he hates arguing with him. It’s moments like these, huddled closely together on the bed, that make him realise why they’re still together.
“I love you.” he whispers to the silence of the other’s heartbeat, stroking gentle fingers through soft hair. He smiles slightly at the insecurity on the other’s lips and kisses away the tears in his eyes. But Hyukjae moves, creating distance and regrets, forcing heartbreaks. He follows, not allowing the other to tear them apart. It has always been like that and will always be like that. And in the end Hyukjae always replies to him with an “I love you too,” satisfying both their hearts.
That’s how it goes. That’s how they’ve made it so far. Hyukjae trying to pull away and him not allowing that. That’s how the world turns for them. He doesn’t count in days anymore, he counts in times he’s gone after the other and brought him back.
Sometimes he thinks that maybe he should just not follow after the other this time around, should just let him walk away and see how far he’ll go before coming back. But he’s afraid to find that the other will never come back at all, so he chases after him every time again.
And no matter how much he’d like to rub it in the other’s face one day; what an incredible moron he’s being and how many times he’s had to save the both of them, he figures it’s no use crying over spilled milk. After all, he likes to keep the past what it is; passed.
“I hate you.” he shouts at one point. “You’re selfish, you don’t ever think about what I feel and you just keep running from this, from us. We’re supposed to be in this together. You and me, TOGETHER.” He’s so hurt that he almost chokes on his words trying to get them out but he doesn’t care. Hyukjae has taken it one step too far this time, hurt him that tad bit too much.
“All you care about is yourself and how your parents would disagree. Well they don’t even know about us, so why are they standing in our way? Because YOU stand in our way, Hyukjae, and I keep pushing you ahead against your will it seems. So fine, I won’t push anymore. I’ll let you be. I’ll let you walk out of this life you don’t really want to be a part of. So go, if you want. Just go.”
He slams the door closed extra loudly as he leaves the apartment, forgetting his jacket and his scarf, but it’s alright, because he doesn’t feel the freezing wind nor the soft snowflakes. His vision is blurred by tears and he walks at random, trying to get himself to calm down.
When he goes back to the apartment several hours later, Hyukjae is gone. The wardrobe is three times as empty as it used to be, the cupboard lacks five pairs of shoes and the kitchen misses a coffee machine. He goes straight to the bathroom, where there’s only one toothbrush left and drowns himself in the steamy heat of the shower’s water.
Life becomes dead.
They say he sleeps too much, he finds he’s got nothing better to do with his days. He got fired from his job exactly two days after the huge fight and now he’s living in the apartment all by himself. There’s no reason to clean or cook when he’s the only one around; he can live with some mess and it’s not like he’s hungry anyway. So he spends his days altering between the couch and his bed, choosing either to watch TV or to sleep.
What he really does is ponder over the same question over and over again. Forgive Hyukjae or forgive himself? And…did either of them really do something wrong? Wasn’t it the heat of the moment putting the both of them on edge? Wasn’t it normal for them to react like they had, shouting the first things that came to mind without really thinking about them.
Sure, he never intended to have it lead to this, but sometimes life is a little different than what you expect, and at such times, what can you really do about it, right?
He doesn’t want to let the past be passed anymore, he wants to take it and haul it to the present so that everything will turn right again. He’s useless without the other, just a bag of meat and bones trying to get from one day to the next. It’s been months yet there’s still no change. He found a new job because he had to, but now he’s just filling his days staring at a computer answering phone calls of people who don’t understand the simplest of things about their piece of technology. He answers those questions, solves their problems, while his lay buried under months of separation.
He walks through the park one day, Kyuhyun by his side. They’re entertaining a conversation without actually saying a lot. Kyuhyun’s eyeing the people walking around them, while he focuses on the first signs of the living nature that sprout at his feet. The way the wind blows the smell of blooming flowers into his face makes him fall in love with spring all over again and he’s glad he can share the moment with Kyuhyun - the only one who has cared about him after the breakup.
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting the warm feeling seep into his body. It’s almost magical to be able to walk through a park holding a boy’s hand, with no worries of who might see them and what they might think. Kyuhyun taught him not to care about that. Kyuhyun says they can just as well be good friends to anyone who sees them - which actually is all they are. When he opens his eyes again, he looks into a pair of dark brown ones that he didn’t expect in the city park.
“Hey.” Hyukjae says and he freezes at that familiar voice. Kyuhyun replies with a polite hello, the question in his eyes not reaching him as he stares at Hyukjae. There’s so many memories gushing right back in upon seeing the other’s familiar features, but none of those are real anymore. When he finally regains his composure, he politely nods, before walking past Hyukjae and tugging Kyuhyun along.
He pretends not to see the hurt in Hyukjae’s eyes. He pretends not to see the glances thrown at his hand clinging to Kyuhyun’s. He pretends not to feel the pain in his chest with every step that takes him further away from Hyukjae. He pretends to be happy, just like any other day.
He doesn’t know how they got to this point, after so many months of silence. They’re on the phone, but neither is talking and it feels like his heart is on fire inside his chest. It hurts so much he wants to kick at something, yell at something, but he doesn’t. Instead he listens to the distant breathing of a friend he once had. Hyukjae called him up that evening, out of nowhere, saying he wanted to hear his voice. They sustained some kind of conversation for an awkward fifteen minutes at first but now have been silent for twice that amount of time.
“I think I should sleep.” he speaks through layers of static, waiting for the words to arrive on the other side and the reply to come back to him. In the end it takes another minute before there’s an intake of breath.
“Can you keep the line open? Please?” Hyukjae asks and he feels his eyes go teary again, cursing his own weakness.
“Of course.” he replies even though he wants to refuse. “Of course I can.” There’s another bout of silence, before he sighs. “Goodnight, Hyukjae.”
“Goodnight, Hae.”
With that, he puts down the phone next to his face, finds himself a more comfortable position and tries to sleep. All he can concentrate on is the distant rustle from the telephone line and what he imagines to be the others breathing; hesitant and shaky. He knows Hyukjae’s silently crying, but as much as it tears his heart apart, there’s nothing he can do about that anymore. Hyukjae gave him up months ago and it is better they both know there’s no going back.
“I love you.” he hears Hyukjae whisper when the sobs die down, but he pretends to have fallen asleep already. He has no idea what he should reply to that, because all he knows is being left behind.
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