Work Text:
When do people know it's time to end it? To part ways for the good of one another, to cut ties and go on without the person they thought would be there forever? Do they just know, or is something to learn? Accept? You had no idea, but with how things were changing between you and Namjoon, you feared it might be time to learn.
Gently setting your phone beside you on the sofa, you close the novel propped in your lap and sigh. The novel, a book you had read a million times by now, sat half-finished and wearing the damage of years of ownership. It seemed that no matter how many times you read it, you never got sick of it. Maybe because it was truly interesting, or maybe because it held such sentimental value in your heart. When you first met Namjoon, it was in a small empty bookshop near your university. There never seemed to be many people inside, but that day another customer had come in after you. You found yourself browsing beside each other, awkwardly trying to avoid contact as you struggled to find someone to hold your interest. That’s when he asked if he could recommend a book and pulled a rather thin and simple one out, saying it was an amazing read.
So, you took it. You finished within the week, finding it just a tad boring at times, but grateful for it nonetheless. You returned to the bookstore, hoping to catch your stranger once again. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there. So every time you went by you hoped to spot him, hell, you even went just to look for him. He seemed to be interesting, so kind from the conversations you shared that day. You wanted to tell him your thoughts on the book, see if he thought the same, but it seemed as if fate had other plans.
Until about six months later when you returned, having stopped hoping for the stranger by now. You just needed a book for school and found it cheaper here than on campus. Then you spotted him, between large bookcases and reading nooks he was there browsing. You doubted he’d remember you, but you took the chance and after some explanation, he did. So, the two of you talked for what felt like forever, because to you time didn’t exist in that tiny bookstore. Namjoon and you got closer and after almost a year of friendship he asked you out. The rest was history, a fairy tale.
That was, until the last few months of your relationship.
Currently, you were alone in your living room, curled up on the sofa struggling to finish rereading that novel. It was still a tad boring after all these years, but you loved the little novel that brought you to Namjoon. Normally on a dreary day like this, you could speed through it, but today things weren’t going as planned. You were waiting for him to come home to talk. That what he said he needed, was to talk to you. His tone hadn’t been happy or fond like usual and you knew this wouldn’t be cute ramblings and ‘I love you’s’ after a long day of work.
You should’ve expected it. Things had been off for weeks now, maybe even months, but you refused to acknowledge it but now it seemed that you had no other choice. You hadn’t spent as much time together, didn’t talk as often. When you did go out whether it be alone or with friends you could feel the interest slipping away. Namjoon just didn’t seem to click with you anymore, seemed far happier to meet with the boys or other mutual friends than have alone time with you. You told yourself he was just stressed, his life was always so much, he just wanted a good time with friends.
But it was when you went home together, barely speaking a word and going through the rest of the night as a routine that you realized things were getting worse. When he held you one those kinds of nights there wasn’t any adoration in his eyes, his arms wrapped lax around your, almost bored. Maybe you should have addressed it then, but you couldn’t bear the thought of things breaking. Because you still loved him so much, even if it seemed like his affections were lacking. You couldn’t help it.
When Namjoon got to the apartment he unlocked the door and took his time slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat. You didn’t get up to greet him like usual, it wasn’t time for that. He found you in the living room, sitting in dim stillness with the pitter-patter of rain keeping your company. He walked in, setting something down on the table and sitting beside you. He had brought you food, but you weren’t hungry. In fact, your stomach almost hurt at the tense silence in the room.
“Y/n” Namjoon spoke, your name drawn out and tired in his voice. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, we should talk about this.”
“I know Joon” you murmured, suddenly feeling tired yourself. “Just say it, I already know.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He almost pleads, “it just happened, things were good and then they weren’t.”
They had been. You had no idea how things could start to fade so easily. From dates that took your breath away to quiet glances and cold shoulders. Your first date together had been like a dream-like you were the princess in a fairy tale, but no it appeared that Namjoon had no princess and you had an unwilling prince. “We’ve grown apart.”
“You’ve been distant” you corrected.
Namjoon pauses at your hurt tone, “Y/n, I just think it's time we part ways.”
You close your eyes, nodding as you felt the hot wave of tears flush your face. “I know Joon.”
You don’t talk much after that. You leave the food untouched and go to the bedroom. You’ve already called a friend to stay with, you just need to pack a bag. You’d come for the rest of your things another day, hopefully, while Namjoon was gone. You retreat to the bedroom before you can cry in front of him. He seems so calm, so understanding over the situation. You wished you could feel the same. You wished you could be content with how things were ending, but you couldn’t. You loved him. You shared so much of your life over the past few years with him. It wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. Almost robotically you pack your things and Namjoon comes into the doorway to watch with a pressed frown.
It's when you look over to him that the tears start to fall. You bite your lip as they rush down your face and Namjoon is at your side the moment they fall. You’re pulled into his chest as he rubs up and down your back, telling you that it was okay to cry. You look up to him, tears still slick down your cheeks. He’s smiling at you and for a moment you think that maybe he’s crying too. “What did I do wrong?” You ask, voice uneven as you stop caring about sounding pitiful.
“No, no” he murmurs, “you didn’t do any wrong” he soothes, his voice faltering a bit towards the end. “You did everything right- everything you could, but I...I’m sorry.”
He doesn't regret it, not a moment throughout the past few years. He loved you for so long, he still does, but he knows that he’s just not in love with you anymore. He doesn't want to let you go, he wants to be selfish and keep you at his side, but he knows it's unfair. He was right to break things off now before things go too far and he hurt you more than he had already. Because, as hard as it was to admit, he had fallen out of love. Your days together stopped being something he looked forward to, you became another motion in his life to go through. Draining his free time, nagging in the back of his head, and stealing his focus away from his music, his life. He never wanted it to, he hadn’t even noticed himself drifting away until Yoongi mentioned it, sat him down, and asked what had been wrong with him lately. That's when he realized it all, but you still seemed so happy with him, he couldn't just break it off there. So he tried, he tried so hard to fall in love with you again, but fate said otherwise.
He knows you may not want to see him after this. He doesn't like the thought, but he knows he should accept it. Because he’ll do whatever is best for you in this situation. He’ll never forget the good times, the should you gave him to cry on, taking care of him and encouraging him with work wasn’t going as planned. He’d never forget that.
“Namjoon?” You asked, tears beginning to subside. “Tonight, just one more night, can we just…”
You’re unable to finish, but he understands. You spend the night together. Quiet and in each other's arms. He holds you like he never wants to let go and you do the same. He whispers “I love you,” and you know it's a lie, he’s trying to make things better for you, but you don’t care. You drink up your final moments in his arms, taking in his final moments of adoration before falling asleep.
You wake up before him and slip out of bed, his arms had left you long ago and he faced the wall away from you. Somehow you wished last night had been a bad dream, but you know it wasn’t. You get dressed and finish packing your bag quietly. When you come to the living room you find the novel. You stare at it for a long time before finding a pen and opening it up. On the back of its cover, you carefully weave a note for him. You tell him you love him, you always will, and that things will be okay. You reminisce about the bookshop you met, tell him that you loved the novel even if it was a bit boring.
You return to the room and lay the novel on the pillow beside him and take one last glance at him. Peaceful in his sleep, a picture you’d miss waking up to. You kiss his cheek and tell him that you’ll be fine. Even if it’s a lie.