(drabble) hello to myself
hello to myself
wooyoung/yeeun
pg-13, 431w
close, but not close enough
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They say if it isn't hard, if it doesn't hurt, then it probably isn't worth it.
Yeeun doesn't know who they are, but she think they're full of shit.
What would they know, about the distance she tries not to care about, about time that gets more and more precious as they jet back and forth around the world, both fighting exhaustion just to make a call. What would they know, about the way she fumbles for the warm breadth of his back, the crook of his neck where her head fits perfectly, the calloused hands she laces her own in, only to find a cold, empty space.
What would they know, about missing Wooyoung so terribly that it physically aches.
It takes its toll on him too, she can tell. The way his eyes struggle to stay open, his tired smile through the webcam, the way he plays with the simple silver band on his right hand. I miss you, he says quietly so he doesn't wake Nichkhun sleeping in the next bed, so, so much. I would give anything to be with you right now.
Yeeun reaches out to touch the curve of his jaw, only to meet the cool screen. Wooyoung smiles gently, blurry dimples against her fingertips.
Neither of them say I love you because they already know.
It's hard, so so hard, being so close but not close enough, to see him and not see him at all. Yeeun doesn't know how much more she can take, because her heart is heavy and all it does is ache and ache when Wooyoung isn't there by her side, warm and solid and hers.
But then Wooyoung will do something, something sweet or stupid or both, and it'll remind Yeeun exactly why she's in this, why she's hanging on to something that could just as easily fall apart as it could be mended.
Because no one else makes her feel like this. No one makes her heart race and her palms clammy, no one makes her frustrated and giddy at the same time, no one no one no one except Wooyoung.
So when Wooyoung sends her a picture of himself with the Eiffel Tower in the background, wearing that stupid expression she both hates and adores, his silver ring sparkling in the Parisian sun, Yeeun simply rolls her eyes and picks her guitar.
She touches her own silver band as she begins to pen down words to the song she wants him to hear.
Hello to myself, hello to myself
Will you think of me here and smile?
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