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These are the ways in which this encounter could’ve gone worse:
- Jaehyun could’ve failed to employ his motor skills and consequently spilled his steaming hot order all over the counter, making a giant fool out of himself.
- Jaehyun could’ve fumbled with his wallet, dropped it to the floor, and had to bend down to pick it up—a classic sign of terrible fluster which would’ve put him at a serious disadvantage.
- Jaehyun could’ve tripped over his duffel bag while trying to run the fuck away.
- Ten could’ve shown up with a girlfriend—or worst of all, a wife.
Out of all the possible outcome he’s formulating in his head, these are the (sensible) ways Jaehyun could react to the situation:
- He could pretend not to see Ten, for a start (but Jaehyun’s facial muscles have been programmed to express a specific look whenever Ten's around—boyfriend or not).
- He could pretend he's boarding in, like, 5 minutes, and that his gate is at the furthest end and therefore sorry, gotta rush, see you again hopefully never?
- He could, for the thrill, create the airport Starbucks incident of the century by dramatically throwing the entire cup of coffee onto Ten’s face while screaming, "YOU ASSHOLE!"
Except Ten is not an asshole—although it would’ve been a lot easier if he was. He was just exhausted and scatterbrained; but who wouldn't be when you're knees-deep in your thesis and your RA job is draining the life out of you and your scholarship is about to be revoked on the basis of a careless 0.12 decrease in your GPA.
As much as Jaehyun thinks this shouldn’t have been an excuse to break up with someone just before the person in question flies out for an overseas internship, they still had a good 30-month run.
So, being the better person out of the two, Jaehyun does none of the above. Instead, with Ten suddenly standing next to him—a receipt in his right hand and a grin that could win against the sun on his face—mouthing, “Jae?”, like he didn’t break Jaehyun’s heart that night 2 years ago, Jaehyun just blinks.
And then his phone rings.
“Wait a minute,” he croaks, holding out a finger at Ten whom Jaehyun notices has his lips set in a firm thin line, as though saying if he could make Jaehyun ignore the call, he would.
Jaehyun moves away from the counter uninterrupted.
It would’ve been hilarious and only slightly self-congratulatory if this call was a set-up, now that he thinks about it—escape from the duty free area far enough and don’t come back. But since he blanked out in the previous moment of panic, he doesn't have his bag with him. Nor the blueberry muffin he paid for. As he tries to convince his client over the phone that he has indeed mailed their contract, Jaehyun’s mind wanders elsewhere, hoping Ten would have left him alone by the time he returns because isn’t that what sane people are supposed to do when they run into their ex?
This is something Ten never learned, apparently, because when Jaehyun drags himself back into the shop (in utter embarrassment, he might add), he’s still there—complete with the stupid smile and the stupid frappucino he always drinks and oh god, is that my muffin he’s holding?
“They handed it on a plate at first but I assumed you'd want it for takeaway,” Ten states diplomatically, extending the paper bag as if he didn’t just cross a big red line.
Jaehyun has no choice but to take it from him—carefully so their fingers don’t brush. “This is weird,” he mutters, scowling.
“What is?”
Jaehyun doesn't know which he hates more. Ten’s insensitivity to the awkwardness at hand, or the fact that Ten never got into any other relationship after theirs had ended—a turn of events that has given Jaehyun no valid reason to despise the guy even if he wanted to.
Jaehyun waves his arms around in an effort to make sense, and demands in quick succession, “This— why are we talking? Why are you here? How did you recognise me?”
Regrettably, this earns a chuckle out of Ten. “What are the odds, right?” Regrettably, Jaehyun is weak to cute things. “Are you boarding soon?”
He has a good half an hour to spare, but there’s no way they’re sitting down and prolonging this conversation. Jaehyun’s an adult; he’s got business to attend. Retrieving his bag from the floor, he clears his throat and answers, “Yes. I have to go.”
“That’s too bad, then,” Ten says, shrugging and looking good while doing it—Jaehyun wants the image to be erased from his memory this instant. “I got here way too early,” he huffs, craning his neck up towards the ceiling, “but that’s not your problem. Safe flight, Jae.”
And to that, Jaehyun can only nod, swallowing down the guilt that is knocking at the tip of his tongue. The universe must be playing some kind of sick joke on him, however, when he turns around and all he can think about is, what have I got to lose? Something akin to curiosity pounds in his chest. Jaehyun’s job happens to require him not to leave things hanging.
So he turns another 180 degrees, paces towards Ten, and throws away the little dignity he had left. “Or, you know, I guess I have ten minutes.”
Ten beams, and Jaehyun knows it’s going to be difficult, walking away for the second time.