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He's spent five years in this apartment, and it occurs to him how insignificant his existence was as he takes in the wrapped boxes. Five years of his life, a long time and so many memories packed so small like they mean nothing. Easily moved and even more so destroyable. He tapes the last box in his bedroom and marks it in thick letters CLOTHES. Three of these, more than he thought he had and still so little.
The walls are bare, the place has the scent of dust already, like it's anticipating the emptiness.
Taehyung cleans the best he can, he's not about to leave the place dirty. A problem with this resolution is a closed door on the other side of his room and Taehyung had had it locked like it contained demons, never peeked in after Seokjin left.
Seokjin.
Taehyung hasn't thought the name in so long. Three years. He distracts himself with cleaning everything else, but eventually he's done and he has to face the closed door. He places his hand on the handle, the key in his other hand and he's trembling head to toe, his heart a heavy piece of lead in the center of his chest, well demarcated and burdensome.
He sighs. The sound of the key turning is too loud. The door opens to a tragically empty room and it nearly knocks Taehyung out. He knows his face is contorted into a pained expression, and the burn in his eyes isn't from the accumulating dust. He almost doesn't dare to step into the room.
There's nothing but the bare bed frame and the closet he knows is hollow. The walls are sick and yellow, the windows allow light to stream in rudely, no curtains. Taehyung takes a calming breath, carries his cleaning supplies into the room and tries to avoid tripping on any memory.
It's been three years since Seokjin, his roommate of 2 years and best friend since forever, and the love of his life, decided to move out. Seokjin never told him why, but Taehyung has always believed that Seokjin knew. He knew how Taehyung felt about him and eventually it became too much. A beautiful friendship ruined.
He's learnt to deal, and while the first six months of Seokjin's absence were almost unbearable, made more so by the fact that their contact dwindled gradually to nothing, it became manageable later. Instead of a sharp cutting pain, it's a throbbing ache tucked in between his ribs, and it doesn't flare unless Taehyung pokes.
He's poking now, and his entire body is weighed down by the memories. When they moved in together, carrying their boxes in. It didn't feel small and meaningless back then, Taehyung didn't spare a thought for the boxes, he only looked at Seokjin's bright smile.
He wipes under the bed and something hits the mop. He frowns, swiping with the mop back and forth until he hooks whatever it is and pulls it out. A box.
Beige and low and big in width and length.
Taehyung huffs. It didn't feel empty but it's not heavy enough to have something of value. He picks it up and something clatters inside. Fighting off his curiosity, he sets it on the bed and finishes cleaning the place. He checks inside the closet in case Seokjin forgot something here too and finds nothing. He tells himself it's not disappointment he feels, he doesn't need an excuse to call Seokjin. He doesn't want to call Seokjin.
It's been so long.
He glances at the box and purses his lips.
There's a pack of letters, covered with dust and tied with a thread of wool. Taehyung reaches into the box gingerly, picks the stack up from the knot on the top. There's not many of them. He flips them over, the envelope on top has no stamp, no address. Nothing but a number. 1. Taehyung carefully peeks at the next and it has 2 on it, clear swirling ink.
He extracts the first one and sits down on the floor, back to the bed and legs extended in front of him. He opens the envelope and reads:
Dear Tae,
Taehyung blinks. The date on the corner of the paper is the first of march, twenty-sixteen. Almost five years ago. Two months after Seokjin and he moved in together. Why would Seokjin write him a letter when they were living in the same place? A letter that he never sent.
He gulps, dread filling him as his eyes focus on the first line again. Deep under the petrifying doubt, there's hope that he'll finally understand why Seokjin left.
Dear Tae,
I started this letter on an impulse, that's not like me isn't it? Starting things without thought. But here I am, I even went to the store and bought these fancy papers and ink pens. It's pretty neat. I'm writing this as I hole up in my room, the door locked for the first time since we started living together.
I read an article stating that writing your feelings down helps you process them better. Get over them, even. Though I doubt it, I have to try because these feelings need an escape. They've become too big for me to contain and sometimes I genuinely believe they can kill me. Just press hard from the inside until I burst open. I'm okay with that. What I can't accept however, is the chance of the explosion hurting you. I can deal with anything, but not hurting you. Never you, Tae.
That's it?
Taehyung flips the paper, the blank page greets him on the other side.
There has to be something more. The letter leaves him with an ominous emotion and he fumbles with the cord tying the others, tears at it. The envelopes thud on the floor, wisp of sound and rustle. The dust on them scatters, tickles his nose until he sneezes. He arranges them back in their numbered order, picks up the second one and gently cuts the envelope open.
My Dearest Taehyung,
Don't you find it ironic, how the people we love most are also the ones who hurt us the most? I wish so hard that I haven't agreed to live with you. You came to me with stars in your eyes and your sweetest smile and I knew, I knew it'd be a bad idea but I was always a sucker for that smile. I always say yes when I shouldn't, especially when I shouldn't. And how could I not? How could someone look at the person they love more than anything and say No? How can I refuse you, when my heart is in the palm of your hand?
I think the worst part is that I don't really regret it. For all it hurts to see you and not be with you the way I want to, I'm also thankful. Thankful for your presence in my life, and happy to be by your side even if you'll never ask me to stay. Not like that anyway.
And now here you are, knocking on the door and I have to open it. What else can I do?
“No,” Taehyung whispers to the empty room. “I wanted you to stay. God, I wanted you to stay so bad.”
He pulls out the third letter, his heart frantic already and his hands shaking. He can't believe what he’s reading. Doesn't want to misunderstand the meaning of the words.
My heart is in the palm of your hand.
Taehyung tears the envelope, eagerly unfolding the paper and reading.
My beloved Taehyung,
Have you ever felt like your heart is tearing itself apart as you lie down in the dark, your gut twisting and it hurts to breathe. I hope you haven't... I have.
I want to blame you but I can't. You don't know and I'm too scared to tell you, I'm too scared that my feelings will burden you. That if I ever say them out loud, I won't get to see your beautiful smile and your sparkling eyes, that you won't throw your arms around my neck and hide your darling face in my shoulder. That you wouldn't feel safe with me.
Taehyung stops reading. Glares at the words.
“You're wrong,” he accuses the paper. “I've never not felt safe with you. How could you say that?”
Seokjin isn't here to give a different answer, and the only thing Taehyung is left with is to go on.
I'm so scared of losing you and yet I still am. I'm watching you slip from my fingers, watching you laugh with someone else. I'm watching him hold you and kiss you, hearing you moan for him when it should be me. He can't love you like I do. No one can love you more.
I love you so much, Taehyung and sometimes I wonder how can you not see it? Can't you not see it in my eyes, in the desperate way I hang on to your words, or the way my hands shake with longing. God, can you not feel the heat in my embraces, can't you not see the dark circles under my eyes?
I wish I could tell you, I wish I weren't so paralyzed with fear, but in the end I don't. I'd rather have you as a friend than not at all.
Taehyung rips the letter to shreds, screams. “You say I didn't see but you didn't either!” He clutches his head in both hands and shouts at no one. “You didn't see how I only pushed myself into the arms of another so I could forget you.”
He curls on himself, buries his head in his knees. Seokjin is so unfair. Three years later and he's still breaking Taehyung's heart in the cruelest way possible. He won't feel guilty, Seokjin didn't feel his pain either. He didn't hear Taehyung crying himself to sleep, he didn't catch him looking at Seokjin's side profile with yearning burning in his heart.
He forces himself to calm down and lifts another letter to him.
Dearest Tae,
I don't think I can deal with this any longer. Every time I look at you with him, all the air disappears and I choke. I hate him so much even when I know he's not a bad man. I can't help it, he's taking everything from me. You're my everything, Tae. I love you so much and it's not enough. How could so much love not be enough? What should I do? What can I give?
I want you to love me, I just want you to love me. Please love me back, I'll do anything, Tae, anything. I love you so much, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
The lines smudge into each other, the swirls of them so forceful they've dug into the paper, almost enough to tear into it under the ink. Taehyung shakes, his vision blurring. He can feel it now, the desperation Seokjin wrote about. It's etched into the paper, radiating ache three years later even when the words are faint now. Taehyung swallows his tears and reaches for another letter.
My Lovely Taehyung,
You're upset with me, I told you I want to leave and you got angry. I could see the hurt in your eyes, the confusion, so I backtracked. But I can't stay anymore. I want to leave.
And another.
My dear Taehyung,
I did something I shouldn't have done today and yet my heart is beating with joy. I hope you'd forgive me, darling.
I stole a kiss. You were sleeping on the couch, your lips parted and they looked so sweet, before I knew it I was leaning in and your taste was on my tongue.
I know I crossed a line, I promise I won't ever do that again, but I had to know. Just once. If your lips tasted as delicious as they looked, felt as perfect as they seemed.
They did.
Taehyung's fingers fly to his lips. He feels himself blushing. Presses on his mouth and wonders how it was. Gentle. Stolen.
He wishes he were awake.
My Sweet Taehyung,
You'll never love me and I've come to resent you. I love you so much but I hate you. It's an awful feeling, I wish you’ve never felt this way at the same time that I do. I don't know who I am anymore. I feel distorted and ugly, and I'm not worth your love like this but I still want you.
I want to keep us happy, I want you to remember us as something good. I'm sorry but I have to go, I have to go before I ruin us both.
I love you.
Dearest Tae,
You got your heart broken tonight and I had to hold you while you cried for another. I don't think there's a worse pain. I held you so tight but I couldn't make you smile, I couldn't comfort you. I wasn't the one you wanted. And deep down I was relieved.
I'm a horrible person, am I not? I was so happy that he was no longer with you. Pathetic man that I am. I was happy when it meant nothing. I have no chance either way.
You fell asleep on my chest and I didn't wake you up. I wanted to steal more of your warmth, so I clung to you and we slept on the couch. As you well know. You blushed when you woke up, the prettiest shake of pink. You pushed at me, apologized and ran away from me.
I know now that my dreams will forever remain so. I wish I could blame you but I have no one but myself to blame. I have made up my mind this time. I'm leaving.
My Heart Taehyung,
I'm so sorry for what I'm doing to us. I wish I could love you better but I have come to realize that I'm a selfish man. I want you to myself, I want your everything and then some. It has come between us like I feared.
We haven't spoken in three days, three long, agonizing days. I feel like I'm dying and I hide from your accusing eyes behind my door and my heart curses me with every beat.
I miss you. I miss you so much. I miss your voice and your laughter and the smell of your hair when you cuddle close to him. I miss you when you're right across the hall and all I have to do is take the four steps outside my door.
I want to fix this. I love you.
Taehyung's crying now. His resolve not to feel guilty crumbles along with his heart. He misses Seokjin too, he missed him when they were together and falling apart and he's back to square one. The ache in him has taken over, returned with its cutting edge, poking the tip between the skin and muscle and slowly peeling him open. He's trembling, sniffling pitifully and there's one last letter to read and he doesn't want to read it, doesn't want more of this but he needs to.
He needs to know.
My love Taehyung,
It's our last day together and you still won't look me in the eye. I want to hold you one last time before I leave but you won't let me. You asked me why. You asked with my life tucked into boxes and laid at your feet like it always was. Why wouldn't you stay? Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and I couldn’t tell you the truth so I lied.
Taehyung remembers this like it happened yesterday. Like it just happened now before he got into this room and found these damn letters. He'd asked and Seokjin's answer was cruel. So cruel Taehyung had just turned and left.
“I don't want to be here anymore,” Seokjin's words, unforgiving, splashed at him like tiny razors and he's never stopped bleeding since.
I'm sorry, baby. So very sorry. I love you, now and always and I'll never stop. I hope you know even without me saying that you can always come to me if you need me.
Forever yours,
Kim Seokjin.
P.S. I just realized this is the first time I finished a letter properly. Perfect timing, don't you think?
P.P.S. I love you.
Taehyung traces the blurring dots of long dried tears, and wets the same smudgy spots with his own. The picture of Seokjin sitting in this room alone, crying as he wrote a letter he knew will never be read. It brings a fresh wave of pain and Taehyung allows it to take over him, curls on himself and cries.
He doesn't feel himself moving, only registers what he did when he hears the phone ringing on the other side, feels the cool of his screen sticking to his tacky cheek.
“Hello?”
Seokjin's voice, hesitant and exactly as sweet and melodious as he remembers.
“Hyung,” he wheezes out.
“Taehyung? Are you crying? What happened?” The way Seokjin's tone bleeds concern makes Taehyung weep harder. It's been three years, and Seokjin shouldn't care. Hell, he probably doesn't. He moved out so he could move on. He surely has someone now, someone who is more to him than Taehyung ever was.
You can always come to me if you need me.
“I need you,” he sobs. “Seokjin-hyung, I need you.”
“Where are you?” There's an underlying fear in the question but it's steady enough for Taehyung to focus on.
“Our apartment,” he grunts.
“I'll be right there.”
The phone disconnects and Taehyung is in a trance. It's not their apartment anymore. Perhaps it never was, but this had been Seokjin's room. It should offer more comfort, Taehyung thinks, but time has stripped it of all its Seokjin traces, wiped it clean with dust and too many sunrises. Taehyung hugs himself tighter, closes his eyes.
The tears are hot, scalding like they have the ability to flake off his skin right down to the bone. He shudders, pulls at his legs, rocks himself. He shouldn't have cleaned this damn room. Seokjin will come to him and then what? Taehyung will be smacked with the reality of his moving on and he'd be utterly alone. Left behind by a man who used to love him.
Taehyung hates that he never knew. He hates that Seokjin never told him and he hates himself for not telling Seokjin.
The door of the apartment clicks and the sound is followed by rapid steps, running around until they halt at the room's entrance. Taehyung dares to lift his head, open his eyes and through the blur of the tears there's Seokjin, panting and wearing fucking pajamas.
“What time is it?” Taehyung asks. His voice is foreign, scratched raw.
“What...time,” Seokjin whispers, trails off. Stares then he's a twirl of motion, marching to Taehyung and gathering him close and Taehyung doesn't think one second about crawling into his lap and clinging to his shoulder blades. He presses his face into the curve of Seokjin's neck and soaks it with tears.
“What's wrong, Tae?” Seokjin rubs his back, up and down. Gentle, tender, destructive.
“Letters,” Taehyung gasps out. Seokjin clutches him close, so strong it's hard to breathe, Taehyung tries for closer. He feels Seokjin looking around, hears his throat clicking when he gets it.
“Oh,” Seokjin exhales. Taehyung waits for him to say something, like it's been too long or I didn't mean it or that was too dramatic. Something. Anything. Seokjin only holds him. So Taehyung asks.
“Do you mean it?”
“What?”
“All of it.”
A pause. Too long. Taehyung's eyes rain again, new tears. Hotter and more bitter.
“I did,” Seokjin says. Taehyung's heart breaks.
“No, hyung.” He shakes his head furiously, tries to break away but Seokjin locks his muscles and forces him to stay. “ Do you mean it? Do you mean it now ? You said you always will, you said forever. Three years isn't forever. It's not forever. Please, Seokjin. it's no―”
Seokjin kisses him.
It's soft, barely there. Gone before he can appreciate it.
“I said forever,” Seokjin says against his lips. “And you said nothing,”
Taehyung wails. “Forever,” he says dumbly. “Me too, forever. Forever, hyung.”
Seokjin smiles at him, so fond and Taehyung thinks. Yes, he's seen this before, all the time. Before Seokjin got up to make him his favourite dish, before Seokjin offered his jacket, before Seokjin lifted the covers and scooted to make him space.
Taehyung just never realized what this fond look meant.
“Forever,” he says again. Seokjin kisses him.
It tastes like eternity.
-End.