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They go out for waffles after it happens.
Taehyung orders Raspberry Rush. It’s not his favourite, but they’d run out of Strawberry Supreme. It sits in front of him, getting colder and colder the longer he ignores it.
Hoseok doesn’t order a waffle. He sits with a coffee in front of him. Black. It’s not his usual order, either. He didn’t even put sugar in it.
But this isn’t a usual day.
Taehyung was surprised to find out the waffle place close to their apartment stays open 24 hours. He remembers that time so clearly; he and Hoseok had just moved in and were giddy after unpacking their memories onto the shelves of their new lives.
It was around 3am, not that either of them were paying attention to anything other than the pillow fight that had broken out. Eventually, however, the two got hungry and stumbled onto the streets, hand-in-hand, to find somewhere to eat, as they hadn’t got round to stocking their fridge yet.
Let’s get waffles! Taehyung had cried, pointing to a brightly-lit, yellow-and-orange themed waffle house that was just a few meters down the road from their apartment building.
That night seemed like decades ago, almost like it wasn’t even the current Taehyung and Hoseok who had lived through it, but two boys from another time, another life, another love.
Looking at Hoseok now, sitting in their favourite waffle house at 4:45am, he seems different, too--and not just because he’s ordered black coffee instead of his usual Lemony Lifestyle.
It’s in the way he’s sitting. Slumped backwards, head turned towards the frost-garnered window, feet tucked in closely to the booth.
It makes Taehyung feel cold, despite the waffle house radiators burning away on the walls, so he reaches forward.
His hand doesn’t make it to Hoseok’s, which, instead, is quickly withdrawn from the table.
Taehyung flinches. Hoseok doesn’t miss it. He catches the reaction out the corner of his eye.
Thinking back, Taehyung can’t remember a time when he’d seen this side of his boyfriend. Of course, like any relationship there had been fights and periods of stress when they weren’t as close as they could be, but they’ve never been so… so.
Taehyung can’t think of a word to describe it. He just knows that if there is a word for whatever he’s feeling towards their relationship, it is now his least favourite word.
“Can we…” He gulps, scratches his neck. “Can we talk?”
Hoseok doesn’t turn his face away from the window. Actually, Taehyung repeats himself as he isn’t sure that he’s been heard.
But Hoseok heard him.
“We shouldn’t keep quiet about this.”
“What do you want to say?” Hoseok asks. Taehyung notices that his hands are shaking in his lap and doubts it’s from the biting winter air. They’re sitting right next to the radiator.
“I don’t know,” Taehyung almost whispers. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t speak.”
“I was hoping you would.”
Hoseok looks at him, this time, gaze lacking its usual love-spark that comes with meeting his boyfriend’s eyes.
“And say what?”
“I- I don’t know.” It’s as if they’re the only words Taehyung can remember. Hoseok agrees.
“Of course you don’t. You don’t know anything.”
Taehyung looks down to his plate. He watches as one of the raspberries slowly slips down the edge of the waffle, carried by the whipped cream that has melted from its swirl.
“I just don’t understand why you did it.”
Hoseok’s face snaps back towards the window, shaking hands clenching into wobbly fists.
“I don’t understand why you…”
Taehyung watches Hoseok’s jaw tighten and wonders if his face had always looked so pale.
“Why I what?” Hoseok asks in a harsh tone. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know the answer. He’s asking because he wants to make Taehyung say it.
Usually, Taehyung doesn’t have a problem sharing his thoughts, especially not to Hoseok. Whether it’s a random ‘what if aliens live among us?’ theory in the mid-afternoon, or a secret whisper of love in the AM, Taehyung can always speak his mind.
But not this time.
This time it’s different, like the raspberries sitting in front of him instead of his favourite strawberries, that reminded him so much of his grandparents, and their farm in Daegu.
This time, when he speaks, his voice feels like a blade that is scratching up the inside of his throat.
“I don’t understand why you had to kill him.”