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Ten holds Taeyong like he's something precious, something to lose. It's true in a sense, Taeyong is a somebody to lose. It is dark outside, clouds blocking the glow of the moon and stars. That alone makes the air feel tense, as if the night knows what he is going to do. Taeyong sleeps as if he has no worries, light expression and lax limbs.
He brushes a strand of hair away from his forehead, fingertips lingering on his skin. If this were any other day before this one, he would be asleep as well, because they still had time. Today, they were out. In the morning, it'll be like he was never here at all. Ten had hoped that this day would never come, that what had happened in the past could stay that way.
Unfortunately, he holds no weight against the cards of fate. Call him selfish for even daring to build something with Taeyong when he would ultimately destroy it, but there are things that we as humans cannot let slip from our fingertips. Call him selfish for wasting time when it has already run out, for standing still.
To move would kill both of them, to lead to the opening of his least favorite chapter in this story. Slowly, Ten pulls himself out of the warmth of their bed. Chill prickles the exposed skin on his arms and legs, but it's not enough for his body to erupt into shivers. He's been preparing for this moment for weeks now, so carefully he opens the closet and pulls out two suitcases and a clean sheet of paper.
Because Ten is selfish, he can't leave without a goodbye. There's a pen on the nightstand that Taeyong uses to do crossword puzzles with, and he takes it and uncaps it. At first, words seem to be purposely evading him, but eventually as he writes, they begin to flow from him in an unstoppable flood. He's crying before the end of it, as life is unfair.
The future is an uncertain thing. He has no idea what his holds, only vague guesses. Taeyong's future however, he can see clearly. He'll find someone to fix the damage he's done, another person to make him bloom. Eventually, he'll forget Ten. The thought is enough to make him nauseous, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
One thing remains absolutely certain. Taeyong will be Ten's last love. There is no-one else for him, no-one like him. Taeyong makes him a better person, makes him happy, makes his own flowers bloom. He is beautiful, kind, caring, sweet, awkward, devoted, the list goes on. He could wax poems on Taeyong for the rest of his life and still have something to say afterwards. He deserves everything, and Ten would really rather die then any harm come to him.
His body shakes with silent sobs as he closes the letter and places it with the pen on the nightstand. Taeyong rolls over, and he doesn't stir, but Ten is staring at what he's leaving behind. He can't touch the other, he knows that if he does, he'll never be able to go. For a moment, all he can do is stand slumped, desperately trying to keep himself quiet.
Then, as if a switch is flipped, he picks up his suitcases and leaves the room. He's seen Taeyong for the last time, the image engraved in his mind to hold onto. Now, he has to get far enough away that they won't find Taeyong. He's never going to be free, he knows too much, but he's given his love wings. The front door clicks open, and he slips out into the night.
-
Taeyong sees a face he was never supposed again much too soon. Ten doesn't believe what he's seeing at first, standing shocked in his kitchen. Money has been tight recently, especially since he has been declared dead and can't work legal jobs. Apparently his assurances to them that things were going to work out weren't convincing enough. To get him motivated is the only reason he can think of for them to do what they've done.
Taeyong is bound to one of his bar stools, arms and legs shackled together, bandana gagging him. His eyes are a swirling mix of disbelief and terror. This was never supposed to happen. That night three and a half years ago was so something like this would never happen. The spell is broken when Taeyong suddenly thrashes against his restraints.
Ten immediately moves to free him, unlocking the cuffs with a paperclip on his counter that he had found after some scrambling. Next, he grabs scissors and cuts the rope that's tying him to the bar stool. He must have been there for a while, the ropes have rubbed the skin on his arms red. Finally, he removes the gag. Rapid, ragged breathing fills the room. He can't seem to say anything, his tongue is a useless weight in his mouth as he takes him in. Taeyong looks to overwhelmed to say a word, so it's silent.
He sits next to Taeyong on the floor, legs feeling almost jelly-like. Time warps, minutes pass, or maybe it's seconds, maybe hours. The air is still, but emotions race like fire through him, almost feverish with their intensity. He's drowning, and then: "You're supposed to be dead." The voice makes his palms sweat.
"That's what they wanted." He answers, even though the other's tone hadn't been questioning.
"I was never supposed to see you again."
"This shouldn't be happening, you were never supposed to get hurt." Ten can't control the fondness that creeps into his voice.
"I want to go home." Taeyong's voice is small, and it breaks his heart.
"I'll make sure you never hear from me or anyone else here again love." Carefully, Ten reaches for one of Taeyong's hands, and drags a thumb soothingly across the back when he doesn't flinch away.
"You left me." Taeyong whispers. "I loved you so much and you disappeared," Ten is hit with a wave of guilt, "and then you 'died' so I gave up."
"Dragging you into this where you could get so hurt or even killed was something I couldn't let myself do. Trapping you here with me where you would never be able to leave. You're the love of my life, giving you a chance was all I could think to do." His voice wobbles dangerously, but he gets the words out, hopefully gets his message across.
"I would've followed you anywhere." Tears sparkle in Taeyong's eyes.
"I know," he replies, "that's why I left, why I love you." The night is hazy from light pollution, quiet again as tears hit cheap linoleum. It's a goodbye, real and true this time.
