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peanutbutterand · 7 days

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i miss you, i'm sorry; lmh

in which alcohol and a broken heart prompts you to make a phone call to your ex.

~ Angst with a capital A.

wc: 1.6K

Reference(s): “I miss you, I’m sorry” written by Grace Abrahams and a line from Notting Hill directed by Roger Michell

“I miss you”

The flashing lights seemed to somehow mute the chaotic noise around you. Head hurting, mind overwhelmed, and still, your fingers unconsciously danced across the screen of your phone, typing a number you had deleted months ago.

Some things don’t stay the way they're supposed to. Out of sight, out of mind right? Funny how all logic and rational thinking is suddenly muddled by the denial of a broken heart.

“y/n.”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system, you’d cry at the sound of his voice. Instead, the concern in his tone forced a bittersweet smile to form on your face.

He shouldn’t be worried, he shouldn’t have even answered. But he did. And you hated that you knew he would. Because even in your drunken state, it was so natural for you to go back to him.

“You promised.”

You felt pathetic. Clinging onto his promises of forever, even when you fought his declarations towards the end of your relationship. The need to be right overpowering the need to be loved.

It was careless, taking everything you loved and disputing it with cruel words driven by a fixed mindset. And he did the same. Hurt people hurt people, because no one wants to be hurting alone.

You did your best to move on. You really did. It was easy at first, fueled by anger and pinpointing all the blame of your failing relationship on him was something you did with your head held high.

And then all of a sudden, your pride became too hard to swallow and all the hate you spewed ricocheted in the forms of longing and regret.

You often found yourself reminiscing about fights in his apartment and the disappointment that came with broken dishes, just to get a glimpse of him.

Because he was always readily available in your mind, whether it be in the form of heartbreak or not. And the extent to which you would willingly fall back into these moments only resulted in any progress of moving on to slip through your fingers.

“y/n, where are you?”

How do you move on from someone who is so deeply engraved into your mind, someone who has touched every part of you with sweet kisses and gentle hands, someone who starts your thoughts and always ends them.

For these reasons, your doubts and hesitations were not baseless. Because how do you move on from someone you once promised forever to? It almost seems wrong to do so.

“I don’t know what to do Minho. Everywhere I go leads me back to you. Everything I know brings me back to us.”

There was so much to say, so much you wanted to tell him. It was desperate and embarrassing, but others might say you were simply in love; that you were just a girl, talking to a boy, asking him to love her.

“Y/n, please….go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Y/n–”

“Every corner of that fucking house is haunted Minho.”

It was suffocating. Home was no longer home but a place filled with traces of his presence. Bittersweet reminders of the life that once flourished remained in every room.

His coffee cup in the cupboard, his hoodie tucked away in your drawer, the silly love notes he left embedded into your books, his morning kisses, his laughter, his smile, him.

He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Even in his absence, he was consuming you. So no, you wouldn’t go home, you couldn’t. Because the definition between home and Minho seemed to blur overtime.

“I don’t know what to do anymore."

The drunken daze was now fading away, your clouded mind becoming overwhelmed with the sober emotions that flowed through your body, because they were one in the same when you were drunk, just easier to handle in a state of intoxication.

“I thought you hated me.”

Such a statement was not meant to be laced with the gentleness he evoked, so much so, a certain heaviness clung to your chest. For the reminder of the three words you spewed at him the last time you spoke will forever bring feelings of angst and regret.

“Minho…”

Some things are better left unsaid. Until the time comes when those things are all you can think about, clouding your judgement and cultivating a narrative of missed opportunities guided by the words “what if”.

You had many. And they creeped up on you, leaving you lost in your thoughts of love that you’ll never be able to live, at least, not with him.

But not was not the time to wallow in your self pity and despair. Not after all the time you had dedicated to pondering over the “what ifs” and certainly not when the person these “what ifs” revolved around was here, listening to you.

“I was angry and upset and desperate to hurt you. I don’t hate you—I never could. I’m sorry.”

The slow sigh that ran after your words displayed your relief more than you intended. Thinking back to the last time you spoke to him was routine for you.

But this time, instead of being tormented by the hurt laced in the memory of that night, you were now comforted by the fact that your truth was now something he knew.

And you weren’t going to deprive yourself of his, no matter how much it may break you. You were in too deep to consider that now.

“Do I still make you sick to your stomach?”

It was his turn to let out an audible sigh. And it seems as though you weren’t the only one reminiscing back to that night; for his response appeared to be nurtured with time and consideration.

“No y/n, you never did. You never will. I didn't mean that. I wish I had ever said those words to you, but I did. I’m sorry.”

It’s one thing to say something. It’s another to mean it. And it felt nice to hear he didn’t. You knew he could never have meant it, but the assurance you experienced upon his confession pulled apart the remaining angst embedded in your memories. You could only hope he felt the same.

It was cold outside. Somehow, your feet carried you out of the stuffy place, the moon illuminating the still street, a complete contradiction to your surroundings a few seconds ago.

The silence seemed to emphasize your acknowledgement of everything that had happened and was happening. The phone pressed to your ear. The quick beating in your chest. The familiarity of the slow breaths he took as you listened. Your boldness. His patience.

“I’m sorry I called. I know we said we weren’t talking—”

“I miss you too.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His voice low and quiet, almost as if the statement was a passing thought that had slipped past his tongue. But you caught it, as did your denial, that after all this time, he too missed what once was.

A part of you wished your ears had been deaf to his words. Because the way your hand fell to your chest, the way it felt as though your heart had paused, the way tears immediately lined your waterline, was the same way you recognized exactly how much you missed him.

One step forward and three steps back is the damage his words did. But you started it first, and it was only fair to finish what you started.

An absent smile lined your lips with tears falling down your face. Your tears were warm against your cold skin and you so badly wanted the warmth to stay.

“Everything we were scared of happening, happened Minho.”

“Nothing happened in the way we wanted Y/n.”

Your absent smile turned bittersweet, fingers gently grazing your cheek in an attempt to catch the warmth from your eyes. You were right. And he was too. They say that nothing that is meant for you will ever get away, so why did he?

“Is this better for us y/n?”

It’s hard to make peace with something you don't entirely agree with. He hurt you more than anyone else has. But he loved you better than anyone ever did.

“I don't know. I’m still confused.”

Your eyes shut, squeezing what was left of your tears out.

“I do know that I was really happy with you, we were happy together. And we were really good to each other.”

You went into this conversation with hope and uncertainty. It was only normal for that hope and uncertainty to cultivate into doubts and hesitation. He didn’t deserve that. And you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Not now. Not ever.

“But….”

“But we’ve been here before. And I want to love you because I love you, not because I need you— I missed you Minho…..I miss you. I’m sorry.”

And in an instant, no sound came from his phone. Your voice, gone, as if it were never there.

Gone before he could familiarize himself with the highs and lows of your tone. Gone before he could tell you to not cry, for he recognized the tell tale signs that you were. Gone before he could say everything he wanted to say and more.

And perhaps that's why he continued to hold the phone to his ear, head falling to the back of his couch as he allowed the words he meant to say to you, the second your name appeared on his phone, break free from his lips.

Barely a mumble, but with his whole heart and all his truth.

“I still love you, I promise.”

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peanutbutterand · 22 days

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this is how you fall in love; hhj

word count: 986

a one shot inspired by the song "this is how you fall in love" by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler bc its so soft and bestfriend hyunjin concept eats it up (in my humble opinion)

“How do people do it?”

“What do you mean?”

Hyunjin focused in on your softly perplexed expression, a chuckle falling from his lips at the sight of your stare fixated onto the long awaited kiss being shared by the leading characters.

The entertainment he found in your distracted state soon craved your attention, waving his hand in front of your face just as the rolling credits came in.

Faintly smiling at the blank screen, you turned to look at your best friend who displayed confusion and concern in his expression.

“I was just wondering how people do it?”

Hyunjin moved his body closer, head leaning in as if to motion for you to continue your thought.

“Fall in love I mean.”

In an instant, you fell towards the back of the couch, the pillow that was once on Hyunjin lap now falling onto yours.

“Hwang Hyunjin, what the actual fuc-”

“Y/n its a fucking movie! They are acting sweetheart and you really made me miss the last scene!”

Letting out a sharp breath, you stuck your tongue out and slightly nudged the side of his stomach with your elbow, causing him to flinch away with a giggle.

“I’m not talking about the movie stupid. I just mean in general, it’s a genuine question, the movie just prompted my thoughts.”

You moved towards Hyunjin, closing the minimal space between the two of you, settling closely beside him as you readily waited for his response. Tilting his head, he lifted his fingers to fix the hair on the top of your head that had been messily misplaced by his pillow throwing. The both of you paused before bursting out into giggles.

It’s not like you were completely oblivious to the many answers that existed for your question.

Some say, people fall in love with what makes up a person: how they laugh, what makes them cry, how they like their coffee, etc. Some say falling in love requires the essence of time and self discovery. Some say falling in love is like jumping off a cliff, only hoping that you’ll land safely in their arms. And some say, falling in love is nothing but a series of chemical reactions occurring in the brain.

Nonetheless, everyone arrives at an answer sooner or later in their life. So, it’s always good to talk to people, gain their perspective on the little things in life, like love.

And Hyunjin was the one person whom you turned to when it came to talking about those little things. You raised your finger towards Hyunjin's cheek, softly poking it as he kept his eyes on you, lips in a tight line while he remained silent.

“I guess you don’t have an answer yet either.”

His shoulders lifted as he gave you a shrug while he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Music began to fill the air as the beat resonated in your mind. Your body began to respond, standing up as you pulled off the most ridiculous of moves that were a stark contrast to the song playing.

Hyunjin brought his hand over his mouth, stifling giggles at your unrhythmic dancing that seemed to always be one second behind the beat of the song. The sight of his crinkled eyes only encouraged your tasteful movements. Before you were able to continue your shenaniganz, the music had suddenly come to a stop.

You sent a glare towards him while he held his stomach from laughter obviously putting a pause to the music. Before you could protest, a soft melody eased your frown. You glanced at Hyunjin, immediately catching his eyes. A breath hitched in your throat the longer you stared. For the look reflected in his orbs was soft and endearing.

With a small smile, Hyunjin stood from the couch and made his way towards you, body slowly swaying left to right. You mirrored his movements, closing your eyes as you let the tune take hold of your body as the lyrics fill your mind. Just as the chorus had started, you found yourself opening your eyes in response to the sudden warmth placed on both sides of your face.

Hyunjin's face was only a few inches from your own, but the both of you remained still, bodies lingering in the short distance. You said nothing as his hands fell from your face, to your shoulders, and soon down your arms. The comfort of his fingers provided heat to your still state.

His hands landed into your own, fingers playing with each other as he raised your hands towards his shoulders, putting them in place. The eye contact between the two of you brought heat to your cheeks and emphasized the pounding in your chest.

Your chest slowly raised as he placed his hands on your waist, his fingers moulding into your skin and softly pulling your body towards his.

“Close your eyes.”

You pursed your lips as he flashed you a small smile, closing his eyes, only leading you to follow his request. He leaned forward, setting his forehead on yours. His soft breathing fawning over your skin, a type of warmth you quickly grew fond of.

The urge to never let him go grew with the intimacy flowing between the both of you, bodies intertwined as your feelings ached to do the same. Your bodies swayed side to side, falling into the soft melody, falling into him. As if he were holding you up, ready to catch you.

“I think this is how you do it Y/n.”

The light met your eyes before you settled on his face. His soft and kind and endearing face.

“What do you mean?”

His eyes. Those deep brown eyes. They always calmed you down. Holding a sense of passion as they traced your features, delicately framing you in his mind.

“This is how you fall in love.”

#skz imagine #skz #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin x reader #skz x you #skz fanfiction #soft hours #softhyunjin #straykids #lee know x reader #bangchan x reader #lee know #bang chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines

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