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Jaehyun grips onto the sink, his head bowed down, and though he tries, no tears come out of him. He glances at the mirror mounted in front of him. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing that he wasn’t having a breakdown in a public bathroom in the coffee shop he frequents, but his face is burning red, his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, his heart is beating a mile a minute; he wants to cry. Maybe seeing the true physical representation of his sadness would make him finally give up hope.
His head flops back down and his eyes meet his shoes again. He’s never felt so stupid, so undeniably humiliated. He doesn’t understand what caused today specifically to be his breaking point. In hindsight, it wasn’t any different than every other day.
Yuta has always been a flirt. He flirts with Mark, Jungwoo, Taeyong, and even Doyoung despite the other’s consistent complaining. He flirts with the random people they pass on the streets, their regular barista and this very coffee shop, and any waiter they’ve ever come in contact with. If it has a human pulse, you can bet that Yuta will be chatting them up. But not with Jaehyun. He never flirts with Jaehyun.
At first he didn’t think much of it, Yuta was his friend. Jaehyun didn’t mind that he wasn’t the object of his affection. After all, they were just friends for years, and even when Jaehyun realized he had very non-platonic feelings for Yuta, he didn’t care about the lack of flirting. No, Jaehyun was secure in their friendship.
He knew Yuta loved him, that Jaehyun was important to him. Who cares if he didn’t show him as much tenderness compared to the rest of their friends? Until their mutual friends decided to tease Jaehyun about how he gives, and gives, and gives, and never gets anything back from Yuta. It’s all in good fun, he knows that, but somewhere in between all the jokes, it became clear to Jaehyun that Yuta would never see him as more than a friend.
He had come to that conclusion months ago, making half-hearted attempts to move on, but still carrying a little bit of hope. That is, until today. Until he witnessed Yuta take one of their special inside jokes, just between him and Jaehyun, and use it to flirt with Mark. It’s stupid. It really didn’t mean anything, but somehow, Jaehyun believed it told him everything he was holding on to was futile.
The door swings open.
“Dude,” Yuta starts. “You’ve been in here for so long that the ice in your iced coffee is practically melted.”
Jaehyun looks at Yuta through the mirror. His smile relaxed on his face. He has no idea how torn up Jaehyun is, and Jaehyun almost lets himself pretend that’s nothing wrong. He almost lets himself save face so Yuta wouldn’t see.
But when his friend takes a look at his red, blotchy, yet completely tearless face, he furrows his eyebrows in worry.
“What's wrong?”
Jaehyun stays silent.
“Jae?” Yuta says in the softest tone. Jaehyun’s heart constricts.
“I-I need some time to be alone.”
“Yeah, of course.” Yuta mumbles. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“Yuta.” Jaehyun strains out. “I need some for a while. And I-”
Jaehyun takes a deep breath and chuckles to himself. This isn’t the conversation he thought he’d be having this morning.
“I need some time away from you.”
Yuta knits his eyebrows again. “Did I do something? Jaehyun, if I did something to upset you, I can fix it.”
He imagines a universe where he tells Yuta the truth. He imagines a universe where Yuta wants him back. He lets himself savor the image that it almost feels like a memory instead of a dream.
But it’s not real. Reality instead involves Yuta never reciprocating. Reality instead involves Jaehyun giving, and giving, and giving even if the truth would set him free.
He doesn’t speak.