Work Text:
As Donghyuck's pen set onto the old paper - its edges curling, dipped in a yellow that sang of age and abandonment, the ink spreading under the tip of his old pen - his eyes blurred over, unfocusing to the point of threatening to never return. They haven’t seen so much color in a long time, despite it being deep in the night, the moon only spending a silver hue of light that was a welcoming faint sensation for his tired eyes. But, still, after spending so much time underwater, every sliver of color was a new overwhelming splash for his eyes, his brain.
He took a deep breath.
His gaze settled back on the worn paper and he realised that the tip of his pen was still sitting on its surface, the ink slowly bleeding out, it fraying at the edges like Donghyuck's memories of a time with him .
Right. Him.
The reason why he was even sitting here, hair still dripping with the water he had just surfaced from, just to write about what has occupied his mind for so long now.
Donghyuck wasn’t sure why he did it; as he finally took the tip of his pen off of the paper. He observed the ink stain with disdain coating his eyes, but his fingers didn’t reach for a new sheet. He guessed it was because they knew; as the stain was part of what his brain occupied; words that weren’t words at all but were dripping with thoughts nonetheless.
His soft fingertips graced over the wet stain, smearing the ink a bit and he frowned, the disdain slipping away and being replaced by annoyance. But he couldn’t change his actions after he'd fulfilled them; couldn’t take back neither what he did nor what he said, thought.
Donghyuck knew. So, instead, he wrote; words falling down from his mind, leaving his fingertips to finally settle on the worn paper. He didn’t think anymore; didn’t have to, because with him it was always just doing without thinking, because his fingers seemed to know without him even realising.
So he started with Love , before he retracted, a sigh leaving his lips. Donghyuck hated how much his brain seemed to slip into old habits, although it had been such a long time since he had last called him that. So he scratched out the word; almost violently, as if his actions could scratch out the word in his mind as well, before he started anew, pen writing letter for letter until it read a simple Mark .
He felt how his chest wasn’t satisfied with this start that almost marked a new era, but he discarded the feeling, continuing with almost vigor so unknown to himself; as if he couldn’t await the moment all of the weight finally left his chest after he'd opened his heart for everyone to see.
So the tip of his pen flitted over the faded lines, the letters ending in a hasty mess that was almost unreadable. Maybe it was because Donghyuck was afraid of seeing the words written down, finally formed into a coherent potpourri of sentences. But maybe it was only because he was scared; because maybe, if he took too much time writing it, maybe he would slip again, his feet losing grip on the wet floor, sending his head back under water, the words spilling out of his mouth and getting lost in the depth of the ocean.
So he wrote, and he never seemed to stop, as thoughts spilled out of his fingertips, covering the worn paper. And despite his greatest attempts, his mind eventually formed the words in his head before being formed by the ink; and it told him, voice ringing in his head so loudly; and Donghyuck listened.
I wondered if it was just my brain missing old routines, but I couldn’t help and let it wander to you more times than it was healthy; at least in the span of the short time between our last meeting and now. Although I wasn’t exactly sure when “now” really was, because, lately, I didn't seem to spend enough time on the surface.
I know you would scold me if you knew, as our roles seemed to have switched since I left you alone in your cold room, after my words that both of us knew were so necessary filled the emptiness between us and left behind a tense air. But it was filled just as much with relief as it was with grief; and I knew that you knew, as I abandoned you as much as you abandoned me that day.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and there was a tiredness pressing down his eyelids that he knew wouldn’t be gone after his back hit the soft sheets of his bed, his brain giving in to the exhaustion and leaving towards a land of empty dreams.
And it was only in those times that Donghyuck's mind drifted to the other so much that it was concerning. He didn’t know what this was supposed to mean and he didn’t want to think about it either, because it made him feel like he didn’t deserve the other even more.
So he forced his eyes back open, and then they met the wall above his desk shelf. It was still covered in pictures from a time Donghyuck had left behind. Mark smiled down at him, almost mockingly, as the other's arm was securely fixated around his waist. Donghyuck couldn’t get rid of that picture, no matter how much he tried, because throwing it in the trash meant discarding their friendship as much as discarding their relationship.
And it was okay, because looking at the picture, it didn’t hurt. Because he still treasured the time they had spent together, a warm and fuzzy feeling spreading in his chest whenever he thought about it. And it didn’t hurt, because Donghyuck knew there were still new memories to be made with the other, because as much as they abandoned each other that day; in the end, they didn’t. Not really, at least.
Because , Donghyuck's fingers started to write again, discarding the thought of there not being a coherent connection to the former written down paragraphs, as his brain had rather thought than written. But he still wrote down the bleeding words, not worrying but only thinking, feeling.
...in the end, we didn’t really abandon each other. Because I knew that you couldn’t as much as I couldn’t. Because even though it was better for us to lay down the label of partners, we weren’t ready to lay down the label of friends. Because it meant maybe never seeing each other again, never hearing each other’s voices again, never feeling each other’s touches again. And I knew I wasn’t ready to let go of all of this. And neither were you.
A single tear met the surface of the worn paper, smearing the ink under it, making the word bleed out until the “ you ” wasn’t there anymore but lost in the ocean.
It made Donghyuck shiver, as it made him think of Mark being as lost as him; head under water, damping every sensation around him. He was scared because he wished the other wouldn’t need this as much as he did. Because he wished that the other finally did better after they went separate ways; because he deserved it the most.
And Donghyuck knew that Mark at least did a bit better now, because he remembered the time they had spent together before he came back into the security of his own four walls. Before he sat down in the faint silver moonlight and started to spill out his thoughts for the world to see.
It was when I watched your hands fidget with the label of the bottle in your hands that I wondered if it was okay for me to whisper in your ear to just play with my fingers instead, to let skin grace skin and to bathe in the way it made me feel less alone; made me feel more in the present.
I wondered if it was okay, because I didn’t know the boundaries of two people who had once been so close and who had now built a wall between them that screamed of only friendship and nothing more. I wondered if I had already started to climb over a good portion of that wall when I had decided to sit next to you, legs crossed and knee touching your thigh. I hated how much I relished in that small touch, as if it was everything I needed to live on.
A faraway cry startled Donghyuck out of his head and his eyes flitted towards his open window. The trees swaying softly in the wind somewhere in the distance seemed to almost loom over him in a threatening manner, but instead of being scared he was thankful, because he almost had slipped back into his head and it felt like the ghost of the woods knew; saving him from drowning as it had done so countless of times before.
Donghyuck's fingers found their way through his tousled strands and it made his eyes direct towards the sheet of paper once again, as his thoughts started to swim in his mind again, forming sentences that begged to be let out.
I wondered if your new friends knew of the time before you left your laptop screen resting in a swallowing black, before your feet led you outside, deciding to make new memories that weren’t dripping with my smile, my warmth. I wondered if your friends knew of the late night talks we had, of my fingers wandering through your soft black strands and of your eyelids threatening to fall shut, as the sensation took over you.
I wondered if you told them; wondered if, to them, I wasn’t just a friend of yours, but an old vine winding around you, embracing you, thorns deeply rooted in your skin like memories that would always accompany you to the end, like a ghost in the back of your mind.
I wondered if it was okay for me to take your hand next to them; if it wouldn’t evoke a wonder in their eyes, emotions swimming with the questions of “Are they dating? Are they in love?”, because it was nothing like that, because our touches were only dripping with fraying memories; never in the present, never real. I knew. And I hoped you knew as well. But maybe they didn’t, and I didn’t want to risk it; didn’t want you to wonder when they would approach you when I was gone.
The page got slowly covered in a subdued shimmer of the rising spring sun, as Donghyuck only now realised that he’d stayed up until dawn, as his eyes left the words written hastily under his fingertips, as they directed towards his window, watching as the sky got covered in hues of reds and oranges, making it seem like it was bleeding; bleeding from the memories of a day that has passed.
Only now he felt the dryness of his eyes, how his eyelids had given up on closing a long time ago, knowing that he wouldn’t pay them the rest that they longed for so bad; not until he was done wallowing; not until his mind collected enough fresh air and colors to dive back into the water, to dampen the sensations around him that were just too much.
A tired sigh left Donghyuck's lips as the tip of his pen lifted up from the worn page once again, his fingers turning and turning and spinning the pen between his fingertips, making it dance in the faint morning light, throwing long shadows onto my table and the wall beside him.
He watched as the shadows danced and slid over the surfaces and his mind got lost in it as his eyes glazed over. They used to dance just like the shadows, sliding through the masses of people, almost unnoticed by everyone except themselves, as their eyes locked, so much warmth found swimming in each other’s eyes.
I hated the way you looked at me now. It wasn’t too different from before we broke up and exactly that was what scared me so much. Was this emotion coating your eyes still the love you’ve always felt for me; just subdued and washed out by years of routine? Or was what you’ve always claimed to feel for me not love at all? Have you only mistaken the platonic feelings two friends treasured for each other as love?
He shook his head. As much as he wanted to use this as an excuse for his own guilty feelings to suppress, it wasn’t right to blame Mark alone for all that has gone wrong. Donghyuck knew they both had made mistakes and he kne w it was both their faults that it ended like this, although they both didn’t ever intend for it to be like this.
But I knew that you had loved me with all of your heart. It was evident in the way your skin brushed over mine, leaving behind a tingling feeling when your fingers’ touches left loving trails behind. And I knew it in the way your words didn’t sound hollow whenever you told me how much you loved me.
The tip of his pen left the paper once again, the last words more coherent than messy; more pretty, more acknowledgeable . Donghyuck knew he shouldn’t follow down this path that his thoughts were going. It wasn’t the right time to plunge back into the past, as it would only hurt and nothing less.
I guess it was truly love that we had experienced, but I think some things are just not meant to be. Or…
He hesitated to write the next words, as they made something reality that he wouldn’t want to think of yet. But the words were pressing onto his skull, his fingers itching with making the words reality, forming them into existence. So he gave in, the ink fraying at the edges as the thoughts formed into sentences on the worn paper.
Or maybe it was just the wrong time. Youth always brings too many problems and I think this is what severed our bond. As we only figured out ourselves and the world, we hadn’t had enough time and energy to figure out each other enough to make it count.
I’ve always dreamed of marrying you and the images of us growing old didn’t help those thoughts, as I think adulthood would’ve done us better if we wouldn’t have clung onto each other when we entered that phase.
Donghyuck sighed once again, biting on the end of his pen as his eyes flitted over the already written words as he slowly felt like it was time to come to an end, taking in the mess that was his thoughts after a long night with the other. He knew he needed to write them down somehow to get them out of his mind. To finally move on and to never look back. And although Donghyuck knew that it wouldn’t be this easy, he still took every chance he could get. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of holding Mark back just because his mind loved to make him suffer with What ifs .
After rereading my words I wouldn’t know how to end this mess in a way that would give us both closure. And I know it’s silly, to talk as if you’d ever read this although I’d rather suffer until the end of my life than give you my vulnerability served on a silver platter, but it still feels like some kind of… apology to you.
An apology for me still thinking about holding your hand; me still thinking about cuddling with you until deep into the night; still thinking about my lips’ touching yours and letting the feeling linger.
And as much as I thought about it, I find no way quite how to end this, but I hope you’ll still forgive me. And I hope, whichever way you will go, you will be happy and I will be there for you.
With all my heart I promise,
Your Sun.
As the last words had left the tip of his pen, he slowly leaned back, observing the potpourri of ink that was covering the old and worn paper. Donghyuck wasn’t sure what to do with it, wasn’t sure what was the right way, so he let his fingers act on impulse, as they slowly inched closer to the paper, starting to fold it.
And then, just a few moments later, his fingers smoothed over the last fold before shaping it to make it stand. His hands retracted again and behind was left a crinkled paper boat, glistening in the early spring sun.
It looked sturdy enough and Donghyuck had to smile, observing it one last time with glistening eyes as he rocked back and forth on his stool before giving it a final push and then he fell back. But instead of his back hitting the hard floor, it hit the water that was already waiting so desperately for him, welcoming him with a warm splash as all the sensations around him dampened again, making the world fade.
And before Donghyuck finally closed his eyes to reality once again, he saw a paper boat with fraying yellow edges sail away onto a journey to somewhere behind the horizon where he couldn’t follow.