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101624.
Shot by cupid's arrow
Bars and parties weren't really your go-to activities on a Friday night before the long weekend, but seeing as you had nothing better to do, you gave it a shot. Maybe a night out could be the release you needed after a long week. Maybe downing bitter shots, chugging hard liquor, vibing to incoherent music, and dancing with strangers could somehow drown out the stress.
What you shot out without much thought was met with a swift response from cupid, shooting his long, revoltingly strong arrow straight to your heart. He really didn't come to play that night, and here you stood, arrow in chest, heart pounding, mind dazed.
Seonghwa was the last person you could have guessed who would be glued to you for the entire night. He wasn't someone you knew well, merely a presence you occasionally saw in classes, yet the unexpected turn of events felt as if you both shared an extensive, complex history together. Both drunk and running on adrenaline, the two of you spent the night between dancing on the floor, cuddling on the bench, and walking around hand in hand. Occasional conversation helped to establish a better understanding of one another, and perhaps a new beginning as well.
The weeks following the fateful night showered you with nothing short of pure bliss. Weekly dates to cute spots hand-picked by Seonghwa himself, library meetups for group study sessions, and occasional evening texts decorated your waking days. Even though things progressed slowly and no particular labels were placed on your budding relationship, Seonghwa invaded every crevice of your mind and heart. His soft demeanour, his shy touch, his pretty voice, his twinkling eyes; fuck, you were truly down bad for this man.
With the feeling of being on cloud nine, the sudden burst and fall from your euphoric bubble hours before your next get-together hit you with the force of a truck. What was going on? Why did Seonghwa suddenly cancel your date? Why was he now no longer interested? Weren't things going well? Or were you just imagining everything this whole time?
"I just.. I'm not looking for a relationship right now."
Now a day since receiving the unexpected message, you sat across a very apprehensive Seonghwa in the student food court, arms folded in front of your chest and lips tightly pursed. You couldn't help but get annoyed at him for looking as good as always; his soft demeanour, his pretty voice, and those goddamn eyes burned an image at the back of your retinas.
"Did you start everything knowing that? Better yet, did you even have any interest in me at any point?"
Although you wanted to appear calm and neutral, your voice betrayed you as you bitterly spat out your skepticisms. You despised how much this was getting to you; even though you've grown quite affectionate towards Seonghwa, you also knew that these dates could never guarantee a happy ending. They were just ways to get to know one another in a more private, intimate setting, away from the hollering and delusions provided by your friends. There was no reason for labels or specificities when things were still developing, still taking its first baby steps. And perhaps the lack of direction was the beginning of the inevitable.
"I was interested in you, I'd never lie about that. I'm still interested in you and want to get to know you, but as friends.. if you're comfortable with that."
You sigh. Realistically, you know that the two of you will return to your lives before everything started. You both never had much of a connection before all the dates and texts, and you know enough about Seonghwa that he's not one to reach out often. It only stung more since your feelings were essentially unreciprocated and you were the only one who seemed this bothered.
The hazy memories of that night come back to remind you—no, haunt you—of what could have been. A fleeting encounter turned to nothing, a possible new chapter slammed shut. You practically carry around a broken tape player in your mind that keeps looping the same parts over and over, until you can literally see the scene again, until you can feel it..
But most of all, until you can see and feel him.
That night, you got shot by cupid and he really didn't come to play. You still have an arrow lodged in your chest, heart going erratic and mind going haywire. Only this time, you lay on the ground as blood pools around you, surrounding you as if to finalize your sealed fate.
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101524.
Our night is more beautiful than your day
"San, what are you-"
The man grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you into his embrace with one fluid motion. Wordlessly wrapping his arms around you from behind, he holds you close to his chest as much as he physically can.
Time stands still in that instant. Even with the distant ticking of the clock for every second passed, it fades into the background until it becomes nothing more than the sound of two synchronized heartbeats. San's grasp tenses as if you were about to disappear from him, yet he delicately holds you in his embrace as if you were made of glass.
"Is something.. wrong?"
No response. He simply rests his head in the crook of your neck, lightly breathing in your scent. It was always something that relieved him, relaxing his usually tense muscles and easing his stress. It's natural, it's addicting, it's simply you.
"Stay."
"What?"
"Stay," he repeats, murmuring. "Stay here."
You pause, trying to be the more reasonable one in this predicament.
"San, you know I can't."
"Please. Stay with me tonight."
You exhale a long-held breath. The desperation in his voice isn't as obvious when he whispers, but his body language speaks for what he hasn't vocalized. As much as you would like to stay, you know it's far too risky. Both of you were already teetering on the line between friends and something more for ages, and a part of you held unease of what a night together could cause.
Seemingly sensing your mental deliberation, San pleads you one last time. He knows one more push, one more expression of desperation, just one more word and you'll finally cross the line to join him where he stands.
"Please," he whispers extra close to your ear.
Fuck it.
"Alright, I'll stay," leaning into his embrace. "Here, with you, tonight."
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101524.
The waves crashing onto the shore mirrored the surge of emotions coming upon you just from seeing his expression. He doesn't say anything; no, he doesn't even need to utter a sound. You can tell from his gentle stare and slight smile that he's trying not to hurt your feelings while being honest. You can see his mouth move—something along the lines of "You're a great friend to me,"—but it doesn't register in your ears. Frankly, you don't care for whatever words he carefully plucks and places into his sentences. No matter how many times he scrambles the order, replaces certain words, or even changes his expression, not a single timeline could grant you the ending you want.
Simply put, Yunho was never meant to be yours but you were always fated to fall for him.
"I'm... sorry. I really am. You're truly someone I cherish and admire, but I don't see you in that light. At least, not the same light as how you see me."
Bitter. A strangely familiar taste coats the inside of your mouth, making you grimace slightly. It doesn't feel foreign or new, yet it threatens to travel to your eyes and prick them with the same bitterness.
For fuck's sake, keep it together. You can't just put on a waterworks show in public.
Ever the attentive man, Yunho notices your glossy eyes, furrowed brows, and shaky breaths. He knows you're trying to hold everything in while he's standing there, not wanting to show any sign of vulnerability. You've always been the stubborn type, he remembers, never allowing yourself to be caught in a moment of weakness. You refuse to let anything so much as a singular tear slip through the cracks.
Yet even with the observations gathered and the simple solution being to comfort you, he knows better than to linger. Reluctantly and quietly, he takes his leave so as not to disturb the current trance you've put yourself in, hoping that you're able to figure everything out on your own.
The sun setting over the horizon could have served as the perfect backdrop to your fairytale's happily ever after. Instead, it serves as the closing curtains to a Shakespearean play.
With the last bits of sun rays disappearing under the water, you bid farewell to a love story that was never meant to be.
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101424.
143
Not exactly a man of suave words, Jongho didn't always find it easy to express his affection. The sudden spike in his heart rate, the reddening of his face, the stuttering of his speech; he despised it all. The embarrassment and vulnerability that came with verbal intimacy loomed over him like a cloud, never seeming to clear up with the passing years.
Yet here he stands, 24 years in, staring at you with a million thoughts swarming around in his head. Like locusts during a heatwave, they continue to grow in volume and intensity without end. He can sense the all too familiar feelings bubbling up from deep within: the sudden spike, the reddening, the stuttering. Everything is coming back just as he had experienced before, but this time, it was different.
He doesn't feel embarrassed or vulnerable.
He doesn't despise it.
Jongho may not always be the best at expressing intimate feelings, but with the scent of your hand cream lingering on the right side of his neck, your doe eyes twinkling up at him, and your pretty lips pursed in a smile, he can't help but let it out.
"I... love you."
You pause for a second, then giggle at him. The sound of your soft laughter grounds him in reality, reminding him for the nth time that no, he is not dreaming, and that yes, the Choi Jongho who couldn't bear to say those three words finally spat them out.
"I love you," he says again. "I always did. And I still do. I'll continue until the end."
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