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lowkeychenle · 6 months ago

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labyrinth [ZCL]

Description: Chenle was more complex than you originally gave him credit for, and unfortunately for you, that would be your downfall. Lost in the labyrinth, you’ll always struggle to find your way out when the rose-colored glasses don’t let the light shine through.

Genre: Angst/Fluff (non-idol!au)

Content Warnings: Situationship vibes (rip), reader is upsetti spaghetti; (I took the smut out sorry there's no smut in here, but some of it is still suggestive); break ups; sad feelings; whatever occurs during sad times in one's life idk

Word Count: 6,553

Taglist: @peterm4rker @carelessshootanonymous-blog @zhonglele02 @bunnychui

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring random Dream members & Giselle & Ningning from aespa)

A/N: Surprise!!! Sorry it's been so long and sorry that this probably sucks butttttttt it was good to write so whatever.

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

You met Chenle by chance one day. Frankly, you hadn’t expected much out of him in any aspect—he was simply another guy, a thought that typically sent a shiver of disgust down your spine. Boys will be boys, men will be men, and all’s well that ends well.

But he was more complex than you originally gave him credit for, and unfortunately for you, that was going to be your downfall. Lost in the labyrinth, you’ll always struggle to find your way out when the rose-colored glasses don’t let the light shine through.

He’s like a puppy. You decided that the second you saw him. He greeted you with the world’s biggest smile, hugged you, and walked you into the cafe he picked to meet at. You were skeptical at first—it’d been a very long time since you’d felt comfortable enough with a man to allow any sort of physical contact.

You’re not sure how he snuck into your life, but just days after you met him over coffee, you went out with him to a bar—along with two of your friends. He laughed and smiled with your friends. When Ningning and Giselle got up to go dance, you stayed back in the booth with him because you wouldn’t dare move that warm, daring hand on your thigh.

Everyone went back to your apartment, and you fell asleep on his shoulder. Chenle didn’t leave until well past one in the morning, after the girls had fallen asleep. He texted you when he got home safely as you requested, but you were out like a light within the fifteen minutes it took for him to get there.

The next morning, he met you and your friends for breakfast. Then, two days later, he came over to your apartment again to watch a movie with you. He kissed you, and it felt like everything fell into place. Like this is exactly where you were supposed to be and exactly who you were supposed to be with.

But he warned you—loud and clear, and you never once took heed of those warnings.

What goes up must come down.

And what goes up quickly can’t ever last.

As the ending credits roll, you feel a nervous twinge deep in your gut. You’d been politely informed by your friends what tonight meant—that Chenle would kiss you. After everything, you were hoping for it, but you didn’t want to think too much about it.

You two watched a dumb movie, and spent the majority of the time making fun of it instead of actually attempting to enjoy it. You wouldn’t have it any other way. He made you comfortable, and you knew that, in and of itself, was a dangerous game.

Your back is pressed to his chest, and if you try hard enough, you swear you hear his heart thumping. Boldness hasn’t ever been your forte, but damn it, something about him felt right. In a brief moment of courage, as the screen fades to black, you turn over to face him. Your breath catches in your throat, and his eyes dance along your face before settling on your lips.

“That movie was awful,” you whisper.

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s what you wanna talk about right now?”

Contrary to your previous movements, you timidly shake your head.

God, it feels like time freezes. The only light comes from the candle flickering a few feet away, and the orange dancing across his skin entrances you. You gulp as he reaches up to cup the back of your neck. The brown in his eyes is intoxicating, and as they close, you’re already leaning forward subconsciously.

The first brush is tentative, gentle. All of it is perfect. He’s perfect, you’re sure. You lean into him, and his palm finds the small of your back. He rolls until he’s on top of you, and you inhale sharply when his lips move down to your neck.

For some reason, you can’t stop staring at the goddamn box of popcorn sitting on your counter. By now, you figured you’d be fine, but one glance at that stupid fucking box has you crashing back to square one. If it were acceptable, you’d throw the box into the pits of hell. Honestly, you think about asking him to come get it.

He asked you for your favorite brand of popcorn, and you’d said that it was the blue box—to which he googled it and asked you which one it was. So, yeah, he knows your favorite popcorn, and you can’t help but wonder how many things remind him of you. If he gets lost in a labyrinth similar to the one in your mind.

Your friends took a liking to Chenle. It made you so much more confident in the choice to get to know him—he fit into the group with ease. Ningning, Giselle, and Mark had initiated something called a ‘family FaceTime’ where you all had to call each other once a week. You and Chenle both laughed at them, agreeing that there was no way anyone would actually enforce it.

Chenle had taken you out to dinner, so of course, you had to dress up. You put a nice skirt on, did your makeup, and had a great evening. After the group call, you changed into a pair of pajama pants and took off your makeup. Being this comfortable with someone who’d you met a total of three times in person shouldn’t be real, but he made it easy. That much you knew.

Bracing your palms on his chest as you straddle his lap, you narrow your eyes at him. “I wore a skirt today.”

“Yeah, you did.” He sends a sheepish smile your way.

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” he replies, hands falling onto your thighs.

“Huh, that’s crazy. You didn’t tell me that.” You purse your lips to hold back your laughter, and he runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Oh, come on.” He flips you over and hovers over you, both of you engulfed in laughter.

“What about my pants?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

He grasps at the fabric against your thighs, studying it. “What’s on them? Trees?”

“Pine trees. Christmas themed.”

He giggles again. “Yeah, I like them. Sexy.”

“Great, so you think the pants are sexy but not the skirt—”

“Dude,” he grumbles, poking your side to tickle you. “You’re not making this easy for me.”

He leans closer, but just before his lips find yours, you shake your head.

“Never said I would.”

“Good.” He breaks the last of the distance and kisses you hard, hand rubbing up and down your thigh.

You swear every time you look over when you’re trying to fall asleep, you expect to see him next to you in bed. Like the ending was all some wild, inexplicable dream you could brush under the rug. Turning to the side, you play with the blanket he used to lay beneath.

He only stayed over a couple times, but each night felt like it cemented him further in your entire being. It doesn’t matter anyway—it doesn’t matter that you can still feel his lips on yours. It doesn’t matter that you stayed up until the middle of the night talking to him every day for weeks and weeks. And it sure as hell doesn’t matter how hard you fell for him.

At the end of the day, he made the choice to leave, and it wasn’t something you were going to contest. How could you? He told you what he wanted. Your only option was to accept it.

You’ve gone radio silent on everyone, trying your best to survive in the chaos of your mind. Gi reaches out to you to make sure you’re okay, but you lie. Your relationship with Chenle was barely that, to be frank, but in all the relationships you’d been in, in all the people you’ve bonded with, nothing had ever felt as real as Chenle. Nobody had clicked so effortlessly.

You brace your palms against the counter and allow your eyes to flutter shut.

Candlelight.

Fluorescents.

His gentle voice in your ear, whispering just the right things to send you into a spiral of feelings.

Silence.

Feelings you tried so hard to avoid, but you let yourself freefall into them anyway.

Destruction. Dramatic, maybe, but you can’t shake the overwhelming negativity surrounding you.

Conversations that never truly ended, texts all day, calls at night.

Only one notification pops up on your screen, but it’s not him. It doesn’t matter who it is at this point, nobody will ever be him.

One completely silent day makes worry swarm your heart.

Foolish naivety, obviously.

He shows up at your door, but your smile drops the second you see the look on his face.

It’s over.

Your eyes well, but you refuse to let them fall. You’re better than this, truly. You let him back in once, and that was enough. Time to send him packing, never to think of him again…right?

How do you detach yourself from someone who meant so much?

Don’t do it. You told yourself that over and over again as you walked down the street with Ningning to get to another bar. Logically, you were drunk. Any choice you made at this point could be explained as that.

“What’s up?” Ningning asked. “You’re staring at your phone screen like it attacked you or something.”

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing.” You cleared your throat and put the device back in your pocket.

“Is this about Chenle?”

“I just…don’t know why I care about him so much. I mean, losing your job is a big deal. I don’t think he has anyone to take care of him or to make sure he’s alright.”

“And you want to be that person?” She quirked an eyebrow at you.

“No,” you state firmly. “Maybe. I don’t know. I really just want to know how he’s doing.”

“Okay, call him.” Ningning stopped and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What?”

“If you want to talk to him and make sure he’s alright, then call him. The worst thing that’ll happen is that he doesn’t answer, and then you’ll know it’s none of your business.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, turning to face away from her as you pulled your phone back out. Clicking on his contact name, you waited, heart thundering, as the dial tone started. It shouldn’t have surprised you that it went to voicemail.

That’s your answer.

Why does it hurt so fucking badly?

You shake your head to rid yourself of the memories. If only it’d been left at that. If only he’d been the terrible person your friends said he was. But you knew him. You knew him on a level that no one else ever has, and that’s what ended it.

You scroll through endless videos on your phone as the TV plays in the background. Any mind-numbing activity that could eradicate him from your mind at that moment. But everything reminds you of him. From the screen you’re watching to the keychain he got you to the sheets on your bed, he’s absolutely everywhere, but somehow…nowhere.

Something changes at that moment. It’s like the atmosphere completely flips. You take a deep breath, frown, blink a few times, and rest your hands in your lap. You don’t need him. You never did. Where he once was, someone better will take his place.

A wave of calmness tugs at your soul, and with that, you decide it’s time for bed.

As you make it back to the bar, you get a text.

Chenle: hey i just saw your call

Chenle: i’m at a movie with one of my friends, he just lost his job too

Chenle: i’ll be here until 11:30, so i can call you around 12 if you still wanna talk?

You stare at your phone in shock. Not only did he have a valid excuse for missing your call, but he texted you back. He wants to talk to you, too. Your heart soars, but you try to keep yourself put together. It’s 11:15 now, so if you want to make it home by 12, you’d have to leave now.

You don’t tell your friends why, but you tell them you need to go home. Ningning calls you an Uber, and then you’re on your way. You anxiously await the call the whole time you’re on the way home. The night around you twinkles innocently, and you can’t help but wonder if this is the right thing to do. You get home, get in bed, and wait.

The call goes much better than you thought it would. Hearing his voice somehow soothes all the hurt you’ve felt in the less-than-two weeks without him. You feel like you can breathe again.

He tells you how he’s doing. That he’s definitely seen better days, but losing his job on top of his family’s issues, you fear for his sanity. An overwhelming urge to take care of him bubbles up, but you know you can’t force it.

You talk on the phone for an hour. An entire hour, until one in the morning, when he says he has to go. In an attempt to hide your disappointment, you agree. And from there, you’re not sure where you stand. Was that the last time you’ll ever talk to him? Will you ever see him again?

Did it matter?

But you couldn’t leave it there. Not when you knew he was struggling. So the next day, you asked him if he wanted to go for a drive with you. He agreed.

Two hours later, you end up back at your apartment, him in your passenger seat. You look at him, the gentleness of his face outlined by the blue light off of your car stereo. Truthfully, you weren’t ready to let him go. He was right there with you, but he was so fucking far away.

“Thank you for this,” he murmurs. “I needed it.”

“Of course,” you reply. “I meant it when I told you that I would be here for you.”

Silence befalls the car, and without even thinking, you turn it off.

“Did you want to come inside?” you ask.

“Is…Is that okay with you?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

He follows you inside. There’s something about him that makes you feel so…inexplicably safe. He’s been in your apartment countless occasions by now, what makes tonight any different?

You end up with a laptop between you two, a random show playing as both of you relax in each others’ company. He makes his normal commentary, and you feel that spark of hope return.

There’s more than enough space between the two of you. You’re not even touching.

The credits roll, and he sits up. Glancing over at you, he gives you a small smile. “I should probably head out.”

“Right.” You watch as he gathers his keys. Your heart pounds in your chest. You’re not ready to watch him walk out. What if this is the last time you ever see him?

Instead of the words you can’t muster up at the moment, you hold your palm out to him. He stops, frowning.

“What?”

You stay quiet.

“What are you doing?” he repeats.

“Figure it out,” you say, gulping.

He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. Time stops, and you meet his gaze once more. Whatever the two of you have is so real, it’s palpable. He’s like a fucking magnet, and you’re much too close to fight it.

“Can we just…have a few minutes?” you whisper.

Emotion flashes across his face quickly before it disappears. “Yeah.”

He climbs back into your bed, and without a second thought, you shuffle as close to him as you can. His heart beats harshly in his chest, and his arms wrap around you tightly.

You fall asleep like that.

Your friends tell you that you’ll find someone better. That someone else will love you like you deserve. But at the end of the day, you know that. Ending up alone, or thoughts of that, is not the problem for you. You don’t want anyone else. You want him. You want the sound of his laugh and the warmth of his arms and the safety of his company.

But hey, you’ve stopped crying every day, so there’s that…right?

Three months after he came back, he left again. Maybe that’s the issue. Maybe you shouldn’t have attempted to bring someone back into your life that was adamant about leaving the first time. Communication is key, and as time went on, his deteriorated to nothing, but that may be because you ignored everything he told you at the beginning.

The wind gently brushes against your skin, the warmth of the sun sinking into your skin as you walk down the street. It’s been almost a month now since the last time you talked to him. It’s freeing…but so many things happen around you that make you want to tell him all about everything you’ve been doing.

All the good things you were working for when you were with him happened, and he didn’t have the courage or strength or care enough to mention it to you. The world doesn’t tell you how hard it is to go back to being strangers with someone. It’s a magnificent plunge into the ocean, and there’s no way out. Only sinking further and further until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

You took your work to a cafe near your apartment. There were several reasons why you picked this one, but there was only one you’d never say out loud. He lives in this area, too. You clandestinely hope you’ll run into him and show him how well you’re doing.

Funny, because you’re not doing well. But you sure as hell were acting like it.

Faking it ‘til you make it helps only so much, and then you feel the world crash down around you.

You type away at your computer, allowing yourself to zone out the rest of the world as you start your proposal draft for work. After about ten minutes, your zoning becomes a walk down memory lane.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he says firmly.

You scoff. “It’s not hard, Chenle. I’m not asking for a lot.”

“Maybe not, but I just can’t. I don’t know what else to tell you.” He pauses, and silence takes over the two of you as you feel your eyes well with tears.

“Well, it’s not my responsibility to teach you. You’re a grown up, it’s okay to learn things on your own. But if I don’t have space in your head, I’m not going to beg for it. I’ve been in that position before and I refuse to do it again.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“What do you want to do, then?” he asks.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m hurting you. Wouldn’t it be easier if I just…stopped?”

The laugh that escapes you is accidental, but it was either that or burst into tears. You won’t let him hear the latter. “I assume that’s what you want, then.”

Even as you feel your heart shatter in your chest, you steel your resolve. He’ll never know how fucking bad this hurts.

“I think we should call it.” He stops. “This isn’t fair to you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s too early. You haven’t tried absolutely everything to help him, and now it feels like you’re losing everything.

But instead of allowing the lump in your throat to take over, you take a deep breath. “You better be really fucking sure this is what you want.”

Silence.

“You don’t get to come back if you do this. You know that, right?” You silently beg whoever's listening that he takes it back. That he wants to stay and he’s just scared but he’ll realize that.

“I know.”

You have nothing to say. What’s even left? No part of you, that’s for sure. You hope he knows what he’s doing. You know you’re the only person he actually opens up to–but leave it to you to be selfless in a situation like this. To worry about him when he’s the one breaking your heart.

Through the silence, you hear his breath shake. He’s not hiding his emotion, but you still refuse.

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks.

“Whatever.” You can’t help the strain on yours.

His apology rings over and over again in your brain, echoing. The more you dissect it, the more you hear the crack. The break. The way this hurts him the way it’s hurting you. That’s the only reason you know he’s even hurt at all.

You’re speechless. There’s nothing left for you to say, but you hope that if you stay on the phone, he’ll change his mind. A tiny hope sparks and all you want is him. You don’t want to lose him, but how are you supposed to do this?

You sit in that deep, dark quiet for another twenty minutes. The only sound is your heart bashing into your ribcage. Why isn’t he hanging up? Better yet, why aren’t you? You said it yourself—he doesn’t get to come back once he makes this decision.

Your tears stream down your face, and you’re holding in the angry sob threatening you. But that anger takes over, and you clench your fists together.

“What are we doing?” you hiss. “What do you want?”

“Yeah, I guess I should go to bed and get ready for tomorrow—”

“Whatever. Bye.”

You hang up, and immediately the world crashes down around you.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice asks.

Shaken from your memory, you quickly gaze up at whoever spoke. You rapidly blink away the tears and offer a small smile to the man in front of you. “No, not at all.”

He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t place it. He has hair dyed blond and brown eyes that study you closely.

“Are you okay?” he inquires, sitting across from you.

You recoil. “Huh?”

“You just look kinda sad. And sadness makes me sad, so.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m Jisung.”

It immediately clicks in your brain. You almost laugh–what are the chances?

“I am sad, but I don’t think I should talk about that with you.” You hold back a chuckle.

You never met Chenle’s friends, but you’d heard about a few of them—Jisung most notably. Maybe it’s a different Jisung, but you’re almost positive that would be your luck.

“And why’s that?”

“Jisung like…Park Jisung?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Chenle’s friend?”

His confusion only grows.

“I’m (Y/N).”

The realization hits him like a brick. “Ah, I see. I can understand why that’s a little weird now. Still sad over what happened?”

“You say still like it’s been three years and not three weeks.” You tilt your head.

“I guess that’s true.” He furrows his brows. “He only mentioned what happened once but I recognize this from him. If something hurts his feelings, he tends to disappear for a while. Haven’t heard from him in a couple weeks.”

“He didn’t tell you what happened?”

“Not really. Just that it was over, and then he fell off the face of the earth. I assume it wasn’t that simple?”

“You’re his best friend. How do I know you’re not gonna tell him every word I say?”

“Haven’t heard from him. Doubt he’d listen to me if I even said I ran into you anyway. I didn’t know it was you when I approached.”

“I’m alright.” You sigh, shrugging. “Gotta keep going through life, you know? He’s just a guy I hung out with for a while and then he decided he couldn’t do it. He’s not the first and he probably won’t be the last.”

Jisung hums, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know if it helps you at all, but it’s hitting him too. He doesn’t know how to handle emotions, so when he disappears like this, it’s something big.”

“Respectfully, I don’t care how he’s doing. He lost that privilege when he decided he wanted out.” The lie feels like a brick to the face, but you keep a straight face. You don’t stop loving someone overnight, but you won’t admit to his best friend that you loved him before you ever tell him. And you’ll never get that opportunity, so it is what it is.

“He’s my friend, so I’m gonna be a little biased. But he’s not a bad guy, (Y/N).”

“I know.” You nod. “I never once thought he was. You can be a great person and an awful partner, and he doesn’t know the first thing about relationships. His decision is a reflection of his maturity level and ability to handle conflict. Not me. Certainly not my worth. I did everything I could.”

“You think he’s a good person?”

“Of course, I do. He didn’t treat me badly. He’s just an idiot, and he’s letting something good slip away. He might realize it one day, and he might not. I’ve had to come to terms with both outcomes.”

“He did tell me you were understanding, but I didn’t really think it would apply at this point.” Jisung chuckles to himself. “He said you’re the nicest person he’s ever known.”

A smile forms on your face. “At least he knows. Not everyone would react the way I did.”

“I hope you feel better soon. You deserve better than someone who runs. And he’s not completely a lost cause, but don’t wait around for him. He has a lot of work to do on himself.”

“Thank you,” you say, sipping from your coffee. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“It was nice meeting you, (Y/N). Kinda sucks these are the circumstances, but you’ve got this.”

You try to take what he says with a grain of salt. It doesn’t matter what any third parties say if you’re not hearing it directly from the source. As Jisung walks away from you, you stare back at the report you were typing. How are you supposed to concentrate now? Chenle takes up all the brain matter you have left. So much for being over it, huh?

You had a lot to tell Ningning later. The odds of this shit happening to you is, of course, only applicable to yourself. Nobody else would have to deal with something like that. At least you recognized him before you said anything to him.

You contemplate reaching out. You really think hard about it, but to pull yourself from that, you think back to the last day you spoke to him.

You told him to come get the shit he left at your house. It was the day after your phone call, and you weren’t sure what you were feeling anymore. Things were numb, but you refused to show him, still.

Even his knock on the door was different. You exchanged a look with Ningning, gulping to yourself as you prepared to open the door. This is the last time you’d ever see him, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this was all going to go.

Regardless, you wanted him to know you were mad. You opened the door and walked away, not even sparing him a glance. As you turned around to face him, you nearly recoiled. You couldn’t recall a time where you’d felt such a coldness radiating from him.

He immediately went to grab his things, not saying anything or looking at you. He’s playing the same game you were, yet it felt like a hot blade to the chest. Instead of allowing that to come out, you shielded it with anger. Nothing could make this any worse.

Ningning could sense the tension, glancing back and forth between the two of you without a single clue of what to do or how to react.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” you ask.

He pauses briefly, his whole body tensing. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Each word leaving his mouth is like a punch to the stomach, leaving you breathless. All you knew was that you had to get something out of him, no matter what it was. The man standing in front of you was one you didn’t recognize. Certainly not the one you spent months with.

You turn to Ningning. “Can you step outside for a minute?’

Ningning quickly makes herself scarce, and you cross your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t stop putting his things in the bag he brought.

“Seriously?”

“What?” He drops the bag and turns to you. “What could I possibly say to make any of this better? All it’ll do is make it worse.”

“Why do you assume that? What gives you the authority to decide what makes things worse for me?”

“I have nothing left to say. Everything is on the table. What are you wanting me to talk about?”

“Anything.” Your shoulders slump. “I don’t get it.”

“I told you it’s not you. I just don’t…feel it, okay? And it wouldn’t be fair of me to string you along when I don’t feel the same way.”

“I know it’s not me.” You shake your head. “I know I’m not the problem. You’re doing this because…I don’t know. You’re lazy.”

His chest rises and he looks at the wall past you. “Yeah, I am.”

“Everyone in your life walks all over you except for me, and you’re gonna do this?”

Silence.

“It wouldn’t have taken a lot of effort to keep me around, Chenle, I don’t fucking understand—”

“It’s too late now, isn’t it?”

Your words falter in your throat. You want to agree with him, but your heart urges you not to. It squeezes in on itself, but you can’t bring yourself to say the words you so desperately want to—because he’s right. It is too late. He chose to walk away again, and you told him this would happen. You can’t break your own boundaries, your own promises to yourself.

“That’s what I thought,” he replies, scoffing. “I’m gonna go.”

He moves past you toward the door, but you block it, glaring up at him.

“Well, I hope the next time you start seeing someone else—”

“Trust me, it’ll be a long time before I do that.”

“The next time you start seeing someone else,” you pause, throwing the door open. “And you fall in love with that person, I really, truly hope they don’t do to you what you just did to me.”

He says nothing, but you swear you hear his breath hitch. He moves past you quickly, disappearing past Ningning to the parking lot. As soon as he’s out of sight, you sink to the floor.

How did it come to this?

“Yeah, Ning, it was really weird. I’d never met the dude before, and I just knew who he was like…instantly.” You hold the phone up to your ear with your shoulder as you wash your dishes.

“He didn’t know who you were?”

“He did after I told him my name.”

“Red flag number seven million,” she deadpans. “You dodged a bullet.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh. It’s not something you actually believe. He isn’t some dangerous weapon, and he was never intent on hurting you. He just did—not that it makes any of this any better.

“You just need to focus on yourself. Maybe choose a place to sit that’s not so central to his location—”

“I don’t need to avoid an entire city to move on.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you. Whatever you’re holding on to, let it go. He clearly can’t be bothered and you deserve better than what he gave you.” Ningning’s voice takes on a scolding tone, and you turn your sink off.

“I know that, okay? The problem is not me or my self-worth. I know there will be someone else out there that’ll treat me better, but he wasn’t bad the whole time. He’s not a bad person. The problem isn’t if there’s someone else, it’s that it’s not him.” You inhale deeply. It’s been so long since you verbalized the words you’ve wanted to say.

Your phone vibrates, and you frown before drying your hands to take a look at it. The name on the screen has your heart stopping completely. You even blink a few times to make sure you’re not making things up.

“Um, Ning, I’m gonna call you back.” You don’t give her time to respond before you hang up and unlock your phone.

Chenle: Can we talk?

This has to be a sick joke. Now he has more to say? That’s new.

You: about?

Chenle: I know this is out of nowhere

Chenle: It’s not fair, but I just need a few minutes. Are you busy?

Not at all. Your dishes have been gross in your sink for days, but you suddenly have lost all urges to do anything.

You: a little. do you want to meet for coffee tomorrow? i’m free after work.

Chenle: Yeah, if we could. Let’s go to our usual place at six. Thanks, (Y/N). You’re a better person than I ever could be.

And didn’t you know it.

You groan to yourself, like his message, and try to convince yourself that you have no expectations for tomorrow.

You arrive early, mostly because your anxiety won’t let you do anything else. Sitting at the table, you’ve already ordered both coffees while waiting for him to show up. Your leg bounces up and down, even though you try to appear unbothered.

The bell above the door dings once more, and you’re face to face with the man you truly thought you’d never see again. Your breath catches in your throat. He looks exactly the same, like no time has passed. Logically, it’s only been a couple of months, but you can’t help but study him.

You stare. Not because you’re not sure what to do, but because you don’t want to assume this is a friendly interaction. Bile rises in your throat as he sits across from you. You slide his cup over to him.

“Oh, thanks.” Chenle pauses. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Right.” He presses his lips together in a firm line, swirling the liquid around.

“I don’t have a whole lot of time,” you tell him. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to apologize,” he says. “There’s nothing that would take back what happened, and I get that. I get that it’s all over, but I…I hurt you. And I don’t think I can forgive myself for that.”

“So, what? You came here hoping I’d forgive you instead?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. You’re a good person, so I figured—”

“Right.” You chuckle. “Yeah, Chenle, I’m a good person, but that doesn’t mean I let people walk all over me. If you came here for me to forgive you, you’re in the wrong place.”

“Either way, I needed you to hear that I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what I was thinking. I made a mistake.”

“We’ve established that already.” You lean back in your chair. “I’m not mad anymore. I wanted you to feel guilty at first. That’s why I said what I did, but honestly, I guess I’m sorry too. I don’t want that for you anymore. All I want is for you to do what is best for you, maybe try therapy to get over that weird attachment issue you have.”

“You deserved better.”

“What you don’t understand is that things were fine at the beginning. Everything was what a relationship was supposed to be, and then you pulled away. You suddenly couldn’t be reassuring or have feelings and it just is what it is.”

“I want to be better for you.”

The breath catches in your throat and you stare straight at him like he’s an alien. Those are the exact words you’ve been craving to hear from him. You’re stronger now than you’ve ever been, but something about the look on his face makes you want to believe him. After all, he’s never lied to you. He was honest every step of the way, even if it hurt in the process.

Your heart wants one thing, but your brain knows what’s going to happen. It’ll be an endless cycle, and you can’t—won’t—do that to yourself.

You reach across the table, putting your hand on top of his. “I appreciate you saying that. And like I told you before, I think you’re capable of so much more than you believe. I’ve always thought the best of you.”

“But?” His face falls.

“It hasn’t been long enough.” You ignore the tears welling in your eyes, finally unafraid to show the emotion you fought hard to keep down before. “You say that now, but it’s not something you can control…yet. You’ll have the same reaction and you’ll do the same thing over and over again, and I can’t do that to myself.”

He wets his lips, nodding slowly.

“You have a lot of work to do. And I don’t say that to be an asshole. I’ve done a lot of work on myself, too, and I’ve come a long way. You can do it too, but you can’t do it for me. You have to want to do it for yourself. If nothing else comes of this, I really just hope you heal.”

“I never wanted to hurt you. You know that, right?”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t be here right now if I thought that was your intent.”

“(Y/N), I can be better. I promise I won’t do it again. Let me prove it to you.”

“I was too much for you. We both know that. You’re not ready to handle something like this. Something real.”

“You weren’t too much—” he says immediately, but the look on your face cuts him off.

You wipe a tear and shake your head. “It’s okay. I know I was. I was too much for you, but you weren’t enough for me. You can’t be until you’ve healed. Put in the work, and maybe one day fate aligns all over again. But that’s not right now.”

“The door’s open, then?” His voice is soft, barely audible.

“It was never closed.” You sniffle and grab your coffee cup. “I loved you, Chenle. And I truly, truly hope you get better for yourself. You deserve so much more out of this life, but I can’t be the one to make you see that.”

You don’t give him the opportunity to respond. He never loved you, and you know. You don’t need to hear him say that.

He was incapable of it. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened without sacrificing yourself, and you’d learned long ago that’s never worth it. You believe in him and his ability to change, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a participant.

You glance once over your shoulder to find him watching you.

Maybe the image of you walking away is finally what gets through to him.

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