Drabble - The Words Unspoken
The Words Unspoken
Yoochun/Jaejoong
PG ; Romance, angst
305 words.
Soundtrack: here
You visit me today. The door clicks unlocked and you step in with tired eyes.
"Yoochun," you say and suddenly, the tear in my heart is healed.
"Jaejoong," I say warmly. "You came."
I wish you could hear me.
The room is empty except for a piano that stands alone. You trace your fingers along the edges of the black keys, eyes faraway; a distant smile shadows your face. You hum a song (our song) beneath your breath, the words escaping from your lips like a secret. I step closer to listen.
The orange hues spill in from the glass windows lined up on the wall and I watch your hands move in slow motion over the piano, playing the sweet melody that we wrote together. I lean down to wrap my arms around you and you close your eyes.
"I miss you," you mutter and I hold onto you tighter.
The music echoes like nostalgia and I don't want to let go. The white windows are tainted with the glow of the sunset, your eyes reflecting a warm brown. A soft breeze leaks into the room and I'm reminded of those slow lazy Sunday afternoons spent on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms.
"Yoochun," you say my name again. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," I say. I cry out again and again, but you'll never hear me, never feel me, never see me.
"I love you, Yoochun," you whisper and I kiss you, full on the mouth, wishing that you'd feel me-feel that I, still, love you, and that I wish I never left, and that no one will ever replace you in my heart.
But you don't hear anything.
And after a wistful glance around the empty room, you leave; the door clicks locked behind you.
---
Masterlist: here
Yoochun/Jaejoong
PG ; Romance, angst
305 words.
Soundtrack: here
You visit me today. The door clicks unlocked and you step in with tired eyes.
"Yoochun," you say and suddenly, the tear in my heart is healed.
"Jaejoong," I say warmly. "You came."
I wish you could hear me.
The room is empty except for a piano that stands alone. You trace your fingers along the edges of the black keys, eyes faraway; a distant smile shadows your face. You hum a song (our song) beneath your breath, the words escaping from your lips like a secret. I step closer to listen.
The orange hues spill in from the glass windows lined up on the wall and I watch your hands move in slow motion over the piano, playing the sweet melody that we wrote together. I lean down to wrap my arms around you and you close your eyes.
"I miss you," you mutter and I hold onto you tighter.
The music echoes like nostalgia and I don't want to let go. The white windows are tainted with the glow of the sunset, your eyes reflecting a warm brown. A soft breeze leaks into the room and I'm reminded of those slow lazy Sunday afternoons spent on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms.
"Yoochun," you say my name again. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," I say. I cry out again and again, but you'll never hear me, never feel me, never see me.
"I love you, Yoochun," you whisper and I kiss you, full on the mouth, wishing that you'd feel me-feel that I, still, love you, and that I wish I never left, and that no one will ever replace you in my heart.
But you don't hear anything.
And after a wistful glance around the empty room, you leave; the door clicks locked behind you.
---
Masterlist: here