Chapter Text
And I know no amount of planes
And trains could bring us back again ~ perfume sombr
YUNHO
It's been 94,608,000 seconds since Yunho touched Mingi’s cheek in a fluttering graze, heart thumping against his chest like a wild horse trying to run free.
It's been 1,576,800 minutes since Yunho felt something warm run down between the curves of his cupped fingers. That's when he knew that Mingi knew.
It's been 26,280 hours since Yunho saw Mingi break in front of him like a ragdoll, cheek wet against his fingers, making it slippery for Yunho to hold him, as Yunho chanted his apologies like a fervent prayer.
It’s been 1,095 days since Yunho let those damned words leave his mouth in a stumbling rush, severing them both in one clean cut.
It's been 1,095 nights since Yunho pulled Mingi into a bone-crushing hug, clawing against his flesh, holding him against his trembling body in a desperate attempt to stitch back what was now bleeding.
It’s been 3 years since Yunho stood pressed against Mingi, holding his breath, scared that even the tiniest twitch would make Mingi take his head off his shoulders, and he would have to walk into the oncoming downpour without a second glance.
Unfortunately, Yunho did move, ever so slightly, to shield Mingi from the now merciless storm, a hand poised right above his head in a desperate attempt to keep him dry. That exact action ripped Mingi from Yunho, their clothes peeling off like Velcro, as Mingi tried to find Yunho’s eyes.
“Why are you doing this?”
Why was he doing this? Yunho had been asking himself the same question ever since he arrived at this decision. Yet no words seemed to take his side when he needed them most—to explain why he was willing to cut off the only person he had learned to love, on a dark sidewalk with nothing but the abused puddles as their witness.
So instead, Yunho clenched his fists and cast his eyes down, unable to meet his lover’s eyes. All he did was mutter a sorry and walk down the sidewalk, gracelessly stumbling through the darkness, afraid that if he didn't walk faster, the consequences of his decision would catch up to him sooner.
The puddles that stood watching everything unfold helplessly extended their fragile arms, trying to hold him back from running away from the only person he willingly shared his breath with.
Yunho wasn’t ready for it to end. Yunho wasn’t ready to let him go. Yunho wasn’t prepared to give up on the only thing that kept him alive. But what Yunho also wasn’t ready for was all the moments he froze up when Mingi struggled to breathe.
He wasn’t ready for the moments when he felt clueless when it came to comforting Mingi’s convulsing body. He wasn’t ready for the moments when he was paralysed at the sight of Mingi curled up against the bathroom floor, vomit crusted against the sides of his lips as he sobbed into the cold, lifeless tile. He wasn't ready for the moments where Mingi’s eyes turned glassy and empty right in the middle of a conversation that he was enjoying and engaging in a few minutes ago.
However, none of these moments ever prompted him to distance himself from Mingi. No, he wasn’t a coward. He tried to learn. He learnt to unfreeze himself in the moments Mingi needed him, he taught himself not to panic when Mingi was doing the same, and understood that whatever Mingi needed wasn't space but a shoulder to lean on. Rather, to be precise, welcoming arms that can hold him with no second doubts, because Mingi was always the one to shoulder others’ weight while he never let anyone else shoulder his, and that's exactly why Yunho decided to learn to love the person whom he cared for.
But all this came crashing down the night Yunho heard Mingi mutter something in his sleep, between his shuddering breaths. Yunho had woken up the moment Mingi started trembling in his arms. He knew he shouldn’t wake him up. His limited knowledge was enough for him to know that Mingi would have to ride the dream out on his own. All he can do is patiently wait, rubbing circles on Mingi’s back till he wakes.
More than once, Yunho had wished that he could just crawl into Mingi’s brain and strangle out all those cruel things right out of his head, just so that Mingi could see himself the same as Yunho sees him.
This wish was cut short the moment Yunho heard exactly what Mingi was muttering fervently in his dream.
Yunho
It was his name which slipped Mingi’s mouth, in a feared hush – scared as if he misspronounced a single syllable, he would get thrashed.
His name was exactly what had been slipping from Mingi’s mouth every time he slipped into a place Yunho had been trying so hard to save him from.
His name has been a part of something that has been waking the dead of Mingi’s past.
Yunho, the person Mingi was said to love, was not shielding him from all the hurt. Ironically, he was the one haunting the darkest corners of Mingi’s mind.
How could his name, of all things, be part of the nightmare? Why was he the wound instead of the balm?
Yunho never knew, and he never waited around to find out. Panic seemed to numb Yunho, blinding him from any logic that could help him understand the situation better.
His name was breaking the person he loved.
I am not his saviour, I am the reason.
Oh, how he wished to be nameless at that point.
That night was enough to snap something in Yunho. The fear that he is too much and he is suffocating Mingi surfaced, a feeling he had pushed down years ago. It took a long time for Mingi to make Yunho understand that he is never too much for him, and he loves Yunho all the same.
But all those promises and reassurances that Mingi built up over the years were shattered in an instant, not standing a chance against the growing anxiety that held Yunho in a chokehold now.
Distance was the only option that seemed rational. Distance is what will help Mingi. Distance is what will keep Mingi safe. Distance, even though it would hurt, would be a better lover than Yunho can ever be.
Yunho stayed by Mingi’s side that night, threading his hand through his boyfriend’s hair, trying to ground himself from the anxiety he was feeling.
Mingi had woken with a start, gasping and wheezing as he choked on air and his own mucus, and Yunho, with his shattered heart, decided to stay beside him for one last time.
He helped Mingi through the fits of cough, soothing his back with his hands and holding him as Mingi tiredly leaned into him.
Yunho’s heart was galloping, his throat muffled with a cotton ball, and he didn’t dare move an inch. He was afraid that even the smallest movement would cut Mingi, as his skin now was nothing but a rusted knife.
“I wish I could always wake up beside you.”
Yunho had jerked when those words slipped Mingi’s flushed lips. Why? Why is Mingi saying this when minutes ago, he was afraid of his lover’s name?
Yunho gingerly wrapped his arm around Mingi, pulled him ever so slightly closer, but it was an invitation enough for Mingi to curl up against his chest, like a small chicken under his mother’s wing. Every movement, every instinct, every thought was now measured by Yunho, conscious of the fact that he could break Mingi without even meaning to.
Whatever anchor Mingi was trying to hold onto against Yunho’s chest made Yunho topple over in fear. How was he both the anchor and the storm of his love? How can he stay when he knew Mingi was twisting a knife into himself every time he believed he loved Yunho?
That’s when he decided to leave. Like how autumn silently leaves its way to winter, he decided to leave, his heart frozen from the truth he had come to understand – Yunho is not meant to stay.