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daysswithyou · 6 years

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II. Wonpil - Forever

Characters: Wonpil x you

Genre: angst, slice of life, (slight) fluff

Words: 3.8k

Description: enemies to lovers!wonpil

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2010

April 28th.

It was my birthday, and his.

It was also the first day we met.

Nothing seemed odd about him at first. He was of an average height, had some pretty sharp features and a billion watt smile; the kind that you see in toothpaste commercials. The girls started buzzing amongst themselves – he was a catch alright. But when the teacher asked him to introduce himself to the class, that’s when we all knew that he was a little different from the rest of us. I mean, who else would use paper and not his voice to a self-introduction?

“Hi everyone.”

Flip.

“My name is Kim Wonpil.”

Flip.

“I can’t speak because I’m deaf.”

Flip.

“But I will work hard to communicate with you during conversations and group projects using this booklet.”

Flip.

“Please do take care of me! I hope to be friends with everyone here!”

Flip. And that billion watt smile was on again. Everyone clapped, but you can feel a definite shift in the air. People were less enthusiastic about the new kid; the claps were merely a sign of courtesy. I had known from an earlier conversation with the teacher that I was to be his buddy and honestly, I don’t mind. I’m not the type the judge much – unlike the others. Although getting close to him might be a concern for me. When he sat in the seat beside mine, he immediately flipped to a fresh sheet of paper and hurriedly scribbled something on it.

“Hi, Y/N! Nice to meet you! I got your name from the teacher just now.”

“Hi, Wonpil. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Let’s be friends ok?”

“Ok.”

And my life has changed very much ever since that day.

Wonpil is a very curious and bright kid by nature so every 5 seconds in class; I would have his paper shoved into my face, a query written in bold black ink. When I couldn’t answer, he’ll need a little more time for his question to be answered by the teacher – which earned groans from the class – but of course, he can’t hear them. Gradually, everyone came to detest Wonpil a little – not because he was rude or unfriendly or anything of that sort – but the fact that he was different and required a little more time in this fast-paced world slowed them down, and they didn’t appreciate it.

No one was really willing to hang out with Wonpil at all – except me and my other friend Eva. On the days when even I got annoyed with Wonpil, Eva was the only one that could continue to keep up with his pace, and sincerely took time to be his friend. I guess this was also the reason why Wonpil’s world in school came to shrink to just me and Eva – but more of me since I spent almost all my time in class with him.

I don’t know why I was so blind; why I was so ignorant to his feelings. But my clouded perceptions ruined everything henceforth. My friendlessness turned to tolerance, and that tolerance eventually turned to loathing. And till today, I can never really forgive myself for the way I treated him.

I felt something cool press against the back of my hand. Cracking open my bleary eyes, I brushed my fingers against the cool plastic of the banana milk carton before focusing on the person standing behind it. He held his booklet in his hand which had said, “For you. You haven’t been eating well these days so you should at least drink that!”

I wrote in my own booklet before showing it to him.

“Thanks Wonpil but its ok. I really don’t have an appetite now.”

“No! You must at least drink that!”

Without waiting for my confirmation, he poked the straw through the metal sheet on top and passed it to me. Despite the obvious frown on my face, I took the drink from his hands and sipped on it bit by bit. Pleased, he sat down beside me again before engrossing himself in his own work. I merely glanced at his book but the contents made my do a double take.

Musical notes? How can he write music?

Out of curiosity, I tapped on the shoulder before showing him my question.

“How do you make music? You can’t hear the notes…right?”

“I used to be able to hear when I was little; maybe till I was 6? Despite the little memories I have of music, it is my first love. I remember enough to write some music and I’ve been doing so since I was 13. I know it’s funny – I can remember music but I can’t remember words.”

At that point in time, I merely nodded but the part of me chose not to believe what he had just told me.

“Have you seen Wonpil’s music book yet?”

“Uh huh. What about it?”

“Well? Don’t you think it’s fascinating? How someone can’t hear but can still create music.”

The words were out of my mouth before I could even assess the weight of it.

“Personally I find it quite incredulous. How can someone produce music without being able to hear it?”

“Y/N!”

“What!”

“Are you hearing yourself now? When did you become one of those judgemental people in school? You can choose not to support him in what he’s doing but it’s wrong to ridicule him for it!”

Eva then picked her bag up and with one last glance at me, she stormed out of the bathroom and let the door slam shut, leaving me to drown in my thoughts. Bent over the sink, I took a deep breath before I could form a coherent thought again.

She’s right. Since when I have I began to judge Wonpil for who he is?

Since that day, our relationship has entered the point of no return.

No matter what Wonpil did, it just ticked me off in every way possible.

Everything he did felt like a bother to me – it’s like I’ve come to label Wonpil as “annoying” and the mode around him would be “avoid at all costs”

Whenever he tried to let me listen to his music, I would come up with some excuse to not listen to it, convinced that I could never possibly like it.

Whenever he asked for help with schoolwork, I’d lied and said that I didn’t know how to solve it, hoping that he’ll go bother someone else with his questions.

Whenever he asked to hang out on the weekends, my standard response was “Sorry I can’t, I got to study.” – That wasn’t a lie but surely I could have spared some time to spend with him?

Gradually, I think he took the hint because I stopped receiving questions or requests from him – he’d just go straight to the teacher or Eva. Eva was spending more time with Wonpil now than I do but that was fine with me. It just means that I get more time to study alone in peace –which was exactly what I needed now.

I thought I could hold it all in but the dam finally broke one day.

Everything about that day felt so cold.

The dark skies were pouring down relentlessly, the giant raindrops sounding like rocks being thrown at the window. I was staying back in class for night study class and I was the last one left. My stomach growled in protest – the last time I ate something was… 9, 10 hours ago? Being too engrossed trying to get my sums right, I completely forgotten to eat until I felt the sting of the gastric setting into my stomach.

I looked at the clock: It was 10 minutes to 9, which means that I would have to leave school soon. The last math question stared back at me and I decided my growling stomach could wait another 10 minutes for me to be done before being satisfied.

Just 10 more minutes, I can do this.

But the heavens have a terribly clever way of ruining my plans. On cue, Wonpil stepped into the classroom with a dinner box in hand and judging by his purposeful steps towards me, that dinner box was surely meant for me.

True enough, the sticky note on top of the box made his intentions very clear.

“Please eat this now Y/N. You haven’t eaten anything since morning’s break. You’re going to make yourself sick at this rate.”

At this point in time, I couldn’t even be bothered to waste time to write a response. Instead, I merely pushed the dinner box back into his hands, wishing that he’ll just leave me alone. But for someone like Wonpil that never gives up, this was just another challenge that he will surely overcome.

Sure enough, he placed the dinner box in front of me and for the next 5 minutes or so, we played the push and pull game.

Until I just snapped like a cold wire on the frigid, winter night.

“WONPIL PLEASE STOP! WHY WON’T YOU GET THE HINT!”

The need to hurl something was too overwhelming and as the surge of anger rose within me, I picked up the closest thing to me without thinking twice, I hurled it into the corner at the other end of the classroom with all the strength I could muster in my entire body.

“Why don’t you get it? Why won’t you just leave me alone? Why must you always poke your nose into my business? I’m 16; I can take care of myself just fine! Why do you always have to be so annoying? WHY MUST YOU MAKE LIFE SO DIFFICULT FOR ME!!!”

When I finally opened my eyes – that was when I knew I had ruined everything. Food was strewn all over the classroom and I slowly followed the trail of food with my eyes…

That egg with the lopsided yolk…

The cherry tomatoes that was cut into the shape of flowers…

And lastly, the beef that was slightly burnt around the edges.

I’ve seen Wonpil cook a few times before during Home Economics class – and I recognise it. The craftsmanship in the food was undoubtedly the work of his hands.

But the most heart-breaking thing was seeing that look of agony on his face.

When our eyes met, it was like… it was like… like…

He couldn’t recognise me anymore.

What have I done? I have to leave before I cause more damage.

Slowly backing away from him, I picked up my bag and fled the scene as a bright flash of lightening illuminated his lonely figure in the class.

Later that night as I lay in bed, the scenes from that night played like a never-ending trailer in my mind, the sorrow reflected in his eyes becoming the highlight of this burning red film. But the realisation of another fact felt like a sword being impaled into me and I cried myself to sleep that night.

Wonpil is afraid of the dark – and I had left home alone in that cold, dark classroom.

When I went back to class the next day, everyone was going about their daily activities as usual – as though no one knew of the terrible things that happened there last night. The room did not give itself away either, the interior bare from all traces of the wreck I had left behind. The floors were clean and my books were kept away neatly under my table. From the corner of my eyes, I could make out Wonpil’s figure at his usual spot beside me in class.

I sat down quietly – and he did nothing. No greetings, no smile or no new things to share with me. He was behaving exactly how I had wished he would for the past few months but his cold mannerism made guilt rise within me like sickening bile.

But the guilt was gone as quickly as it had come as I recalled the times he had invaded my personal space and made my personal business his.

I remembered that I hated him – and I decided with finality that I would give him the cold shoulder.

That was how we had lived for the next semester in school – never speaking to one another, pretending that one another didn’t exist.

“Y/N, want to go the summer festival next week?”

“Sure. Who else is coming along Eva?”

“Hmm, just you and me for now.”

“That’s cool with me.”

“Should we…”

“Should we – what?”

“I want to invite Won-”

“No.”

“Y/N, don’t be so stubborn.”

“No. I don’t want to see him there. I don’t want to see him at all.”

“This is where you have to stop living in that little bubble of yours Y/N. I hate to have to do this but there is something you need to get straight. Wonpil wasn’t trying to purposely get in your way by doing all the things he did – he was merely trying to help you. You’re ignorant to this fact because you are so engrossed in your own world but anyone around you can see you working yourself to the bones. Your appetite’s gotten smaller and sometimes you forget to eat entirely. You don’t sleep well and you think caffeine is the solution to everything – you drink that stuff like its water. You try to overtax yourself by working nonstop without any breaks.

I get it. I get that you’re hardworking – I’ve known you for so many years now. But what you need to do for yourself is to stop being so narrow-minded and see the world in different perspectives.

Try to stand in his shoes and think for once.

Is it easy for him to express himself with words? No. But he tries – and he tries the hardest for you. Because he can’t use words easily like most of us can, he expresses his concern through his actions. Everything he’s done for you was done painstakingly with time and effort.

But now back to you Y/N. Ask yourself – what have you ever done for him? A simple thank you would have sufficed for him I suppose – but you didn’t even do that.”

I detest it. I detest the fact that Wonpil has always been the bigger, better person amongst us two. I detest the fact that he’s made me look like a fool. I detest the fact that he’s such a perfect guy.

But most of all,

I detest the fact that Eva is right – and that I’m actually feeling sorry towards someone that I’m supposed to hate.

Anger has always been my defence against the pain and this time was no different from the rest.

“So? So what if you’re right Eva? So what if he’s just trying to help me? It doesn’t change the fact that he made me irritated.”

“You’re right – it doesn’t change the past. It doesn’t change the fact that he made you angry or irritated. I never meant to invalidate all that with the things I’ve just said. I said all that in hopes that the future will change. Maybe you’ll finally see things in a different light now – and try to be more understanding towards him next time. Anyways, I’m inviting Wonpil to the summer festival. You can decide if you want to come or not.”

That summer, I watched the fireworks from my bedroom window as I practised sign language.

I’m going to do it. When I see him again, I’m going to say all the things I should have a long time ago and…

Try to be understanding towards him for once.

Beep.

“Wonpil” then flashed on my screen a second later.

“Annyeong Y/N. Are you free to meet today? I’ve got something that I got to tell you.”

Today? But I’m not ready yet. I haven’t learnt enough yet.

“Not today Wonpil-ah. I’m busy.”

“Not even for 5 minutes? I really want to tell you this in person.”

“Not today Wonpil…I’m sorry.”

“Ah, it’s ok then.”

And a new message from him came a few minutes later.

“Annyeong Y/N.”

Goodbye.

It was such a simple word – but I never realised the weight of it until it was too late.

He wasn’t there anymore. The seat beside mine was empty once more, the desk underneath cleared of its content. Gone was the packet of sweets that he’ll always have under the desk; no more crumpled papers with scratched out lyrics littered the floor or mini figurines that he’ll make with leftover eraser dust sitting on his table.

The place was clean – like no one’s ever been there in the first place. I search all his old hunts – the big tree at the back of the school garden, the benches by the field, and even the rooftop.

And then I bump into Eva in the hallway – the only other person that might know where he is.

“Hey Eva did you see Wonpil? I tried searching around the whole place – why are you staring at me like that?”

Her eyes had grown wider, her facial expression morphing into one of grave seriousness. When she finally spoke, her tone changed drastically – like she was trying to calm a scared child.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He didn’t ask to see you over summer break? He didn’t text you or anything of that sort?”

“Well he did ask to meet me once and-”

“Did you say yes?”

“No I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to face him yet-”

“Oh God.”

“Why? What’s going on Eva? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something I should know? Did something-”

“He’s gone Y/N.”

“He’s gone? What do you mean he’s gone?”

“He moved away Y/N.”

When she said that, I could feel physically feel my knees buckling under me. Everything around me faded into white noise, even Eva’s consolation. I was only aware of the sensation of loss within me as the grief threatened to crush me.

That’s why he said goodbye. It was a forever goodbye.

And I didn’t even get to give him a proper apology and goodbye.

I don’t know how long I cried for. Hours, days maybe. Years later, the pain still hasn’t gone away.

2018;

8 years.

It’s been 8 years since I last saw Kim Wonpil. A boy I knew for such a short time still remains lodged deep into my heart – that unspoken apology still hanging by my lips.

We’re so far apart – emotionally and physically – but I still catch myself thinking about him sometimes. Maybe I caught sight of the pencils he used to use back then, or unconsciously ate his favourite candy or snack.

Sometimes it becomes even more ridiculous – when I start thinking about how I should have listened to his songs back then when he wanted to show them to me.

It’s on those nights where I need an escape – and a cup of warm butter beer and good music always seems to do the trick.

I walk into the club, sit down and have my usual drink served to me approximately 3 minutes later; the owner’s a university friend.

I can hear instruments being set up on the stage behind me – this must be one of those live club days that I’ve gradually lost track of; heck I don’t even know who’s playing tonight. But it doesn’t matter – if they sing well I’ll just turn around, catch a glimpse of their poster hanging somewhere and listen to their songs in the comfort of my home.

The first few voices sounded vaguely familiar and in the depths of my memory, I must have heard them play here before so… nothing new.

But when the chorus comes in – that’s when I hear the most unique voice in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone with such a vocal colour.

I turn around.

And I see him again.

After so, so, so long.

But… he’s singing? He can’t hear, how could know to form words?

The same shock must have registered within him for he has stopped singing too.

I want to go up and say all the things I couldn’t tell him before – but my legs wouldn’t move. I follow him absentmindedly with my eyes as he makes his way over to me and his band continues on without him. Soon, he and I and the commotion we have caused are forgotten by the crowd as they become enraptured in the raspy voice of the main vocalist.

When he stands in front of me again after 8 years, we size one another up like kids used to do on the playground in elementary school as the world narrows down to just me and him.

All I’m aware of is him right now – is this even real anymore?

As if he’s proving his point that he’s always been the bigger, better person, he greets me first.

“Annyeong Y/N.”

“Annyeong Wonpil…”

“Weird to hear me speak isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“You know, Y/N, since I left I’ve always been hoping that I could see you again and gosh this is all so crazy but I finally have my prayers heard.”

He’s still the same. Still rambling on about his interests without thinking too much about them but mine too, Wonpil. Mine too.

“Where have you been Wonpil? How can you…”

“How can I speak again? I went to the States for treatment before coming back to Korea and after many rounds of speech therapy, here I am now.”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck – an old habit of his that has still stuck around.

“It’s been a long while Y/N. Sorry for not being able to tell you that I was leaving 8 years ago…”

“That was my fault, don’t apologise.”

He lets out a nervous laughter before his eyes find mine again – but this time, I beat him to it.

“Sorry for all the terrible things I’ve did before Wonpil. I’m sorry this apology came so late. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’m sorry…for many things…”

I swiftly turn my face away as the first tear drops and I let him when he draws me into his arms.

“It’s ok, don’t cry please. I’ve put them all behind me – why are you still berating yourself for it after so many years?”

“I was a really terrible person Wonpil, how are you still so kind to me?”

“Because you were my first friend there – regardless of how things changed over time.”

I stay enveloped in his embrace for a few more minutes before he speaks again.

“It’s been a really long while Y/N. I believe that we are meeting again for reason so…let’s become friends again? It’s time to right the wrongs done and make up for lost time, don’t you think?”

This time round, I cling on tightly to his shirt as I agree.

“Yes, let’s do that. I’m not letting you go – not ever again.”

#day6writersnet #wonpil scenario #wonpil imagine #day6 wonpil imagine #day6 wonpil scenario #day6 #kim wonpil #wonpil #im so angsty #all that angst in here #dont kill me pls #hope you'll like this last piece!#see yall in dec :)

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stereksummerexchange · 7 years

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Begin Again

@chebik | AO3 - I’m sorry it’s a bit short! I hope you like it anyway!

by @hazelestelle

Stiles was bored out of his mind. Exams were finally over, and all his friends had gone home to visit their families, but he just couldn’t afford that. Since moving to New York to attend university, he was barely scraping by as it was.

And while weeks with nothing to do sounded awesome in theory, he had quickly learned that having no money, and no one to go on any adventures with, was pretty damn boring.

He decided to spend his last money on ordering pizza, since food was always good, and would at least occupy him for a bit. Since he had nothing better to do, he put “send your cutest delivery guy” in the special instructions box, not really thinking that anything would happen.

A while later, he heard a knock on the door of his shitty apartment, and curious to see if they had honoured his request, went to open it, and holy shit! The guy in the pizza place uniform was definitely Derek, or at least a very convincing look alike.

Stiles was momentarily speechless which admittedly didn’t happen to him very often, but Derek hadn’t looked up from the pizza carton yet, and grumbled “My shift ended half an hour ago, but they insisted I take this one, so there better be a good reason…” At that he finally looked up and stopped dead in his tracks. “Stiles? How did you know I work there?”

“I uh… didn't”, Stiles admitted, still shocked by the fact that Derek was standing in front of his apartment in a pizza delivery uniform. Because he had never been able to keep his mouth shut however, he continued: “I asked them to send their cutest delivery guy.”

“Oh.” Derek’s ears turned pink at that and Stiles had forgotten how endearing that was. “Then you’re probably disappointed.”

“What?” He couldn’t believe Derek had just said that. “I’m sure you are well aware of the fact that you are, like, smoking hot.”

Derek ducked his head and his blush got even darker, but he replied: “Well, there’s a difference between hot and cute, right?”

Stiles still couldn’t quite grasp that this was really happening, that Derek was here, at his apartment, looking incredibly good and unbelievably adorable, and that what had been there between them three years ago still seemed to be there now, so he took a chance and placed his hand on Derek’s, who was still holding the pizza carton.

“Well, I always thought you were both”, he confessed, and Derek started to smile shyly, looking at their hands.

“And you said your shift ended, so why don’t you come in, and we share this pizza and hm, catch up?” He winked at Derek, and the other man laughed, finally taking his hand. “I would like that.”

So, sitting on the floor, because the couch still had textbooks and other stuff from exam week strewn over it, they did share the pizza and talked about their lives since they’ve left Beacon Hills, and Stiles realised how incredibly easy it was to talk to Derek, even after all this time.

And when the pizza was finished, he put the carton to the side and tried to scoot closer to Derek without making it obvious, which he of course failed at.

Derek grinned and raised hid eyebrows and Stiles just shrugged. “I meant what I said, you know.”

Derek’s grin got bigger at that and he took Stiles hand again. “Did you now? Well…” He drew the word out and lifted Stile’s hand to kiss his knuckles. “I always thought the same about you.”

At that, Stiles looked down because that just couldn’t be true. “I’m not hot. Or cute.”

“You are”, Derek assured him and turned his hand over to kiss his palm. “You’re also smart.” Another kiss, on his wrist this time. “And funny.” Another kiss. “And sweet.” Another kiss, and Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. His hard was beating so fast he was sure Derek could hear it, and he was probably blushing all over.

“I … you really mean that?”

Derek nodded, looking straight into Stiles’ eyes. “I mean it. Do you want me not to?”

“No! No, I do want you. Always have.” And wow, that was maybe a bit too honest, but Derek was smiling, which gave Stiles the courage to ask: “So we’re doing this? For real? Because I’m warning you, I’m not a one night kind of guy, especially not when it’s you, so if that’s all you want…”

“It’s not.” Derek interrupted him. “It’s never been, not with you. I just never thought I could have this. But now, maybe, we have a chance?”

Stiles smiled. “A chance sounds good.”

At that, Derek leaned in again for another kiss, this time finally on the lips, and after that, Stiles forgot about his boredom pretty quickly.

#stereksummerexchange17 #sse17 #sterek #fic #submission

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sparkinsidewrites · 4 years

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The House Wins

Title: The House Wins

One Shot: 1/1

Character/Pairing: Jade Puget/Hunter Burgan

Genre: Angst

Rating: Mature

Summary: You don't have to be alone to be lonely, you might as well give in.

Authors Notes/Warnings: Nothing in this piece ever happened. I claim no ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from this, other than pride and a sense of amusement.

His fingers tapped softly against the worn wood of the table. It had been something his mother left to him. Tattered and beaten from one too many childhood games, it was certainly not a sight for sore eyes but it still stood and probably would long after he was gone.

He never really let himself think on such things. The past was in the past, there was nothing to be gained from looking back on it. Some days that way of thinking was easier to bear. It was what he knew, he didn’t allow himself to question it. Not when he had built a lifetime on its back.

The sun was just starting to rise behind him, creating streaks of light across the table as it shone through the blinds. He watched as those lines slowly grew, feeling the warmth washing over him. He should have been in bed hours ago. He should have been lots of things.

Knowing it was far too late to attempt sleeping now, he pushed himself from the chair, busying himself with making breakfast. He fumbled with the coffee machine first, needing his caffeine above all else. Especially after another sleepless night.

He shook his head. Why he allowed himself to be tangled up in this, he probably would never understand. But it wasn’t completely his fault. True, he could have told him no. Could have simply shut the door in his face, something he thought of often whenever he came knocking...But he hadn’t.

“What are you doing?”

A smirk was the only reply he received in return.

“Hunt, please. Not now. You said it yourself, it’s done. Just don’t.” Jade shook his head, moving to close the door.

But Hunter had no desire to stop this. Not this time. Whatever it had been between them hadn’t worked. Not that he had expected it to. He wasn’t meant for relationships, they never worked. But sex...Sex was something he knew, something he could understand. Sex worked. He threw his hand up, stopping the door mid swing, a gleam shining in his eyes, “I don’t think so.”

There was something about Hunter. The way he cocked his head. The way he could stare through a person. The way he smiled. It was impossible to say no. Maybe not impossible. He shook his head, hoping that the action would suffice at clearing his thoughts. This was not the track he needed to be going down, not now. What was done was done and he couldn’t change it. There was no rewind feature, not in his life.

It was over. This was over. Why couldn’t he let himself understand that? This wasn’t going to lead him anywhere. Sighing, he sank back into his seat. He could hear the soft hum of the coffee machine behind him. It’s hisses and sizzles filled the air. Within minutes the strong aroma began clouding the air. He inhaled, hoping absently at the scent itself would at least jump-start the waking up process within him. So far it hadn’t, but a small part of him remained hopeful.

Pushing himself to his feet once more, he fumbled towards the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of soy milk he prayed hadn’t gone bad on him yet and a package of bagels. Not the most distinguished of breakfasts, but it would do. He needed to force himself to go shopping one of these days. What little food supply he had left in his cupboard was slowly, but steadily dwindling.

Turning back, he eyed the pot silently deciding it had filled enough to risk pouring a mug. Reaching up blindly, he groped for the nearest mug, grimacing as he brought it down to inspect it. One of Hunter’s. One of the many things the man had left behind when their relationship had turned sour.

The decent thing to do would be to pack it up with the rest of his stuff and drop it off at this apartment. But that would involve seeing him and right then that wasn’t something he believed he could do. If he wanted to cut ties he couldn’t keep going back to him. Couldn’t keep letting him in each time he dropped by.

Hell of a lot of good I’m doing on that one, he thought with a grimace, rubbing his shoulder. It was still aching from last night. Probably bruised. If he rolled up his sleeve and took a good look in the mirror he knew he’d find bite marks mingled in with the bruising.

Scorching heat overwhelmed him. Hands roughly clawed at his tattered shirt, ripping it over his head.

Teeth nipped roughly against his skin. Biting. Bruising. Claiming. His body was on fire. Harsh panting filled his ears, ghosting over his shoulder.

“Fuck.”

The lips curled into a smile against the skin of his neck. A rough bite followed. “Soon.”

A shiver ran through him. He was far too caught up in all of this. It was ridiculous. Reaching for another mug, he shook those thoughts away. Focusing on that, on him would get him nowhere. It wasn’t worth it.

The steam rising from the mug as he sat back down at the table danced before his eyes, mingling with the cooler air around it. He raised the mug to his lips, grimacing lightly as the hot liquid burned his lips and throat. He hadn’t bothered to put any sugar or creamer in it, the bitterness something he craved as of late. It was strange, but he didn’t allow himself to think on it.

Another sip and he pushed himself to his feet once more, making his way back to the fridge grabbing the bagel he’d forgotten on the counter. He wasn’t overly hungry but knew that he needed something on his stomach. He was thin enough as it was, it was something he’d heard many times from countless people in his life.

Shaking his head, he settled back in front of his coffee, picking at the bagel sitting before him. A few bites and he shoved it aside. He wasn’t hungry. He never seemed to be hungry anymore. Pushing himself to his feet, he took what remained of his coffee and poured it into the sink. What had worked to calm him before now turned his stomach. Just as well.

Dropping his mug in the sink, he slowly made his way from the kitchen. He couldn’t spend the entire day hiding in there, as tempting as the idea was. Hiding didn’t solve anything. He ran his fingers through his messy hair and slowly walked into the livingroom.

Nothing much had changed. The magazines still lay scattered across the top of the coffee table, pictures and various books rested haphazardly next to the small television he’d bought years before. It wasn’t much to look at but it still worked.

This was strange. How could everything just remain the same when he knew nothing was? Shaking his head, he pushed on, leaving the room behind him.

A trail of clothing fell behind them. Shirts, socks, pants. Inhibitions followed.

Each bite, each lick, each touch confirmed what each of them knew: there was no turning back now.

He shook his head violently, no this was the last thing he needed to think on. Pushing himself forward, he continued silently into the bedroom, knowing, absently, what would await him there. The sheets still lay tangled, the thin blanket he’d had since he was in college lay half strewn on the floor. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, hoping that when he opened them again the sight wouldn’t turn his stomach.

Without a second thought, he tore the covers from the bed, rolling them tightly before tossing them tightly into the hamper near the door. Next he tore the pillow cases from the pillows, not bothering to roll them, simply chucking them into the hamper as well. This was his ritual. He refused to let himself think on it. If he just continued through the motions, cleaned and straightened, everything would be alright. He would be able to handle this. It wouldn’t honestly matter to him.

It was a lie, he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from believing he could make it all disappear. He could do this. None of it mattered. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the hamper, making his way slowly from the room. Absent mindedly, he grabbed the bottle of half empty detergent from the closet near the front door, ignoring the coat hanging a few inches below it. Hunter’s coat. Pushing the closet door shut, he pulled open the front door, the warmer air from the hallway pouring over him.

He’d always kept the apartment on the cold side, preferring to grab an extra blanket over stripping down to almost nothing. It simply seemed more practical to him and it certainly helped keep his heating bill low. And some months that was his only saving grace when the bills came due.

A sharp hiss. Pushing. Falling. Fear. Exhilaration. Darkened eyes stare down, warm hands tracing over hips, thighs. Bliss.

It never seemed to fail. The more he pushed the thoughts away, the harder they would push back into his mind. A sigh fell from his lips as he precariously balanced the laundry basket against his hip and the wall, pulling his apartment door closed.

The hallway was empty, something he’d come to expect in this building. No one bothered interacting unless it was of dire need. And that had been part its charm in the beginning. He’d found a place he could disappear into and that was a blessing. Silently he continued down the hall towards the laundry room.

It was the same routine as it always had been. He would find the nearest machine, place his basket on top of it, dig through his pockets for the correct change. He’d take the time to sort his clothes and sheets, even though it was times like this he simply wanted to shove everything in the washer and just not think on it, load the washers, set the machines and make a quick note of the time before heading back to the apartment. It was familiar, and the familiarity brought comfort.

Familiarity was sometimes his only saving grace, and more often than not, played a role in his downfalls. Familiarity was what lead him to where he was. To who he was with. He couldn’t fool himself about that. And as long as Hunter continued to return, he knew he would let him in, no matter how it killed him to do so. Fighting against it hadn’t worked. He needed this.

Cursing, fingers latching onto dampened sheets. Panting. Silence. Exhaustion echoing throughout the room. Eyes drooping closed. Awakening, silence, cool sheets. An empty bed. Hollow.

He needed this.

#afislash #junter #end of a relationship #sparkinside writes

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