“so this is it? you’re just going to leave?”
suna’s voice slightly breaks as he asks that question, he doesn’t know where he went wrong — when he went wrong for you to suddenly break up with him, like, for god’s sake, you've been dating for three years, what happened?
it hurts when you don’t answer, it hurts even more that you won’t meet his gaze with your face turned away from him, “come on, y/n, look at me.” he says pleadingly.
you don’t look at him, you’re not sure if it’s because you don’t want to see the desperate look in his eyes, or if it’s to hide the tears in your own, “i’m sorry, rin.” you say quietly, “this is just — it’s not working out, okay?”
“not working out?” he repeats back, his voice breaks again, “what do you mean? we’ve - we’ve been together for three years, we were happy, you were happy. what changed?”
the chilly december breeze blows against the two of you — you hug yourself as if seeking warmth, it was cold atop the rooftop of suna’s penthouse and you were starting to doubt if it was even a good idea to bring him up here for this.
you inhale in a shaky breath, “look, i just think we need a break, okay?” you don’t tell him it’s because you think he’s spending too much time at practice, or that it’s because he’s not giving you the attention you need, no more clinging to you on friday nights watching horror movies or that it’s because of the one too many nights out drinking with his friends and coming home with the overwhelming scent of a woman’s perfume completely engulfing him — you know suna would never cheat on you but the implication that he might’ve in the haze of the alcohol and the zero recollection in his hangover the next day leaves you doubting.
“a break? and then what? we’re just gonna get back together after you’re done cooling off?” the last part comes out a little harsher than he meant — he’s hurt, he doesn’t get it, you’re just going to leave with no reason whatsoever.
he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “sorry, i…didn’t mean it like that.”
you still won’t look at him, and it hurts more than he would admit, “i just, i don’t get it.” he mumbles, almost like he’s talking to himself, “at least tell me why you’re leaving.” it comes out in a whisper, he doesn’t want to believe this is actually happening.
“i told you, rin, this just isn’t working out.” you say quietly, looking down on the city lights below, hugging your jacket — his jacket closer to yourself to keep your body warm as another harsh gust of wind blows.
he groans, “this isn’t a reason — come on, baby, we’re happy — ” he says but you cut him off “we were happy, rin. but this,” you finally turn around to look at him and gesture with your hand between the two of you — and suna doesn’t miss the tears brimming the corners of your eyes, “whatever this is now between us, this isn’t how we used to be — i just, i can’t do it anymore.” you say, your voice finally breaks, your cold resolve shattering.
“why?” he asks quietly, attempting to hold your gaze but you turn away from him, “i think you know why.” you murmur.
he doesn’t, he really doesn’t but he doesn’t think that there is a way to get you to back down from this anymore.
silence falls around the two of you like a heavy blanket that only makes the december night colder — he lets out a huff of air, turning around to look at the roof — the couch by the pool that the two of you used to sit by all the time, soft lips pressed against each other and sweet nothings whispered to one another, talking about a future the two of you would share as you got drunk on each other’s love.
he doesn’t think he can come back up here without thinking of you again.
“fine.” he finally says, breaking the silence, “if this is what you want then fine.”
he doesn’t mean that, he doesn’t want that — he wants to hold you in his arms and kiss you and tell you that he can fix this and that everything will be okay, he doesn’t want to let you go but he knows that he has to.
you nod your head, and you turn around to face him and he wonders if you’re hurt about this the same way he is.
“this is yours,” you mumble quietly as you begin to take off your jacket and he raises a hand to stop you, “keep it.” he says, “i don’t want it.” it’ll only remind him of you, as if everything else wouldn’t.
now it’s his turn to look away from you, he can’t bear it, the sight of you, your face or your hair or the blush that taints your cheeks from the cold or how pretty your lips look, knowing damn well that he won’t see you again.
you gulp and nod, “i’m sorry, suna.” he tries to ignore how much his heart aches when you use his last name, tries to ignore how his chest tightens when you actually walk past him and he catches a whiff of your perfume — the one you love so much, the one he loves so much.
the december cold is chilling when another gust of wind blows and you’re gone with his jacket and suna is left with an empty feeling in his chest.
he’s never getting the jacket back, or you for that matter.
a/n : can be read as the prequel to this and is inspired by this drabble by @augustinewrites
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