Chapter Text
The bedroom, lit only by dim sunlight, was shadowy. The curtains of the open window fluttered gently in the breeze. The quietness was softly eroded by the ticking of the clock. The atmosphere in the room, occupied by two people immersed in their own thoughts, was deeply uncomfortable.
"Let's break up."
The dryly spoken words came from the person in front of him. Sitting on the bed with his head hanging low, he stared into a corner of the room, as if unwilling to face his eyes.
"Why? For what reason, Kwon Ohyul?"
His mind was so frazzled that he ended up calling him out by his full name. Suddenly, his throat went dry. The coldness creeping into his fingertips and toes made him tremble uncontrollably. Thoughts and words filled his head, but none could make it past his lips.
"I'm tired of suffering all by myself like a fool, Ryul."
Ohyul said with a lifeless smile—a smile laced with bitterness. Just looking at it made his heart ache sharply. Panic set in as the thought that it was already too late swirled in his mind.
It felt as though something was squeezing his body with tremendous force. It hurt.
"Aren't you tired of staying beside someone you don't even need, too?"
Ohyul's raspy voice seemed to tremble.
"Let's just stop here; it's no good for either of us."
Ohyul spoke while blinking rapidly. His cracking voice choked him up.
Silence fell over the room once again. The discomfort grew even more suffocating.
He stared hesitantly at the person preparing to get up and leave. His hands and feet felt completely frozen, like a stone statue. Motionless.
"Take care, Ryul."
As he slowly turned the door handle, Ohyul spoke softly. The way his name sounded coming from him was still so gentle.
But the moment he realized this was the end, a suffocating tightness gripped his entire body.
Ohyul's slender hands, opening the door to walk away, had once held his hands so tenderly. Behind the receding footsteps, he stood completely speechless. The sudden sense of emptiness felt chillingly unfamiliar.
He desperately wanted to reach out and grab those hands that were drifting away.
...
The faint aroma of Americano drifted through the air. The sheets of paper scattered on his desk were messy, filled with unfinished, dangling lyrics written here and there.
"So you guys really ended it?"
His friend Woojin shouted in utter disbelief. Ohyul merely nodded. Seeing how cold he seemed, Woojin looked at him with frustration.
"Can you really handle this?"
"Yeah."
Though he answered quickly, his voice lacked certainty. Wanting to ignore Woojin's questions, he refocused his attention on the papers on the table. His hand holding the pen moved swiftly across a sheet, jotting down unrhymed lines.
"Didn't Ryul say anything?"
Woojin asked, bewildered. His hand moving across the paper paused. A sharp pang shot through his heart again. His lower lip began to quiver.
"I don't think he has anything to say."
He let out a hollow chuckle as he spoke, prompting Woojin to look at him with concern.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. He'll be fine too. For now, go cook dinner—I'm hungry."
Only when he spoke lightheartedly did Woojin's face twist into a grimace. Cursing softly under his breath, Woojin stomped out of the room, making him laugh. Taking a sip of his Americano, he realized how dry his throat was. For some reason, the taste felt completely bland. It really tasted terrible.
Certain memories flashed back suddenly, making him feel even more suffocated. As he gently closed his stinging eyes, a few tears slowly trickled down. The heavy, choking sensation in his chest felt overwhelmingly unfamiliar.
I'm not fine, Ryul.
I guess I really hoped for a pair of hands to reach out and catch mine.
-tbc-