this is not an ending
Title: this is not an ending
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Minseok/Luhan
Length: 1203 words
Summary: Endings meant goodbyes, and both of them refuse to say it.
Notes: This was very rushed, because I wanted to write something for XiuHan day. c:
This is not an ending. Because endings meant goodbyes, and both of them refuse to say it. They both know that this isn’t goodbye. Goodbyes meant they were parting. But even if miles would be between them for days, weeks, months, or even years, they know that their hearts would never truly be apart. The love would always stay the same.
But they are also aware of the separation. The barrier that would keep them apart. And it had nothing to do with distance. No. Because even if they were at the ends of the world, they still would do anything and everything to find each other.
It’s the papers. The contracts.
Who would’ve thought that mere sheets of paper would have the strength comparable to the great wall?
But they remind themselves constantly that these contracts, these papers, brought them together in the first place. The belief in the promises
of something big, something amazing, something special. The trust in the people who made these promises. And the need to fulfill the dreams that they’ve held on since they were kids.
They were both mislead. They reached their dreams, at a price. A price so high that not all of them had the strength to pay it back. But they persevered because of the people who believed in them, supported them, and made their dreams a reality.
These people are the witnesses of their story. The story that started with awkward mumbled Korean. The story of friendship that turned into something more. The love that was nurtured through time, through the hurt and the pain.
And everywhere, they made memories - each place, a special one.
On the floors of the practice room. The tiny kitchen in the dorm in Korea. The ramen shop near the company building. The tteokbokki stand beside their favorite bakery. The coffee shop in Myeongdong with the perfect pastries. The couch in their dorm in China. The small park in Berlin with the couple benches. The football field 3 blocks away from their dorm. The bench near Gate 120 at Incheon airport’s departure area. The quaint and quiet restaurant in Russia with the best steak they’ve eaten in a while.
The stage. A hundred different ones, all with very distinct memories.
They have enough memories to last them a lifetime, so being separated doesn’t seem so bad to them anymore.
But of course, they’re just being optimistic. Because they don’t know what the future holds for them.
So they decide to just live in the moment. Because the next few days would go by in a blur, when all they want is for time to stop.
They’re huddled under thick duvets. Their bodies pressed against each other, and their noses touching. They don’t say anything, cherishing the moment. Both trying to memorize and carve into their memories the features of the other. The lighting is dim, but it’s just enough to illuminate their faces.
“Minseok?”
They speak in hushed tones, even though the other members have agreed on giving them space. They know what’s about to happen. They’ve talked about it, and although there have been some disagreements, all of them understand.
“Hm?”
Minseok notices the slight hesitation in Luhan’s eyes, his pupils shaking a bit. His eyes are a bit muddled and blurred now, the usual shine and glow slowly fading away. That’s how Minseok knows. That’s how he knows he’s doing the right thing. That’s how he knows that this is for the best.
“Will you miss me?”
Luhan realizes he’s being stupid when he sees Minseok’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. It’s a stupid question. But it’s the one that had always bothered him. Will Minseok miss him? With the other being busy with the group’s schedules, will Minseok even have time to think about him?
“Why would you even think that?”
Minseok supposes he should be the one asking Luhan that very question. Because he knows the stress the other would be going through for the next few months would be very intense. And he also knows that there are a lot of projects waiting for Luhan when he gets back to China. The same projects the company rejected, still waiting for him.
“I just- I want this, us, to last, Minseok.”
Luhan has pondered about it for quite some time, especially during the nights when he just can’t fall asleep. What he has with Minseok is something he wants to keep for a very long time. He doesn’t say forever because he doesn’t believe in that. All he knows is that Minseok is for keeps. And even if the world is bent on bringing them apart, he wants to fight for what they have.
“It will. We will.”
Minseok understands and feels the worries Luhan has. But he sees the separation in a different light. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? A lot of people disagree, but Minseok can’t help but believe in it. It’s clichéd, yet it fits their situation perfectly. Honestly, Minseok thinks he’ll just about agree to anything that would make the ache in his heart less. He’d end up believing in the most clichéd things, just to make it all better. Because even if he’s been acting strong, it still hurts.
“You know I love you right?”
Luhan wants Minseok to know. To feel. To see. That he loves him so much. So much that if Minseok had just asked him to stay, he would. But Minseok didn’t. Because Minseok is the one who knows. Knows how difficult it is for him to find sleep at night. Knows all his worries and anxieties. It’s Minseok who holds his hands every single time they board a plane and reassures him that they would land safely. Love is patient; love is kind. So is Minseok. Maybe Luhan had used up all his luck when he met Minseok, but it’s all worth it. So Luhan wishes, hopes, and prays that fate will be on their side, even if luck isn’t.
“I know. I love you too, so much.”
Minseok doesn’t know when they’ll see each other again after the last few days they have, but he is certain that when the time comes, the love will be the same. Because he knows Luhan more than anything. He knows the boy like the back of his hand. The four years they had will never be enough, Minseok thinks. And letting Luhan go hurts, but it’s the right decision. Because all he wants is for Luhan to be healthy and happy, both things he cannot guarantee even if he tries his hardest. But he knows that their love is something that will not change, even when everything else does.
So when their final concert together ends, when the lights dim, when the cheers end, when they say their ‘I love you’s in the airport, when they have their final kiss, when the plane takes off, and Luhan lands in China, he’ll say he’s home.
But he’s not, because home is where the heart is. And his heart is with Minseok. And with him is Minseok’s.
They both know that one day, when they’re both in better places, when things are different, when the time is right, their hearts will meet again. And they will be home.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Minseok/Luhan
Length: 1203 words
Summary: Endings meant goodbyes, and both of them refuse to say it.
Notes: This was very rushed, because I wanted to write something for XiuHan day. c:
This is not an ending. Because endings meant goodbyes, and both of them refuse to say it. They both know that this isn’t goodbye. Goodbyes meant they were parting. But even if miles would be between them for days, weeks, months, or even years, they know that their hearts would never truly be apart. The love would always stay the same.
But they are also aware of the separation. The barrier that would keep them apart. And it had nothing to do with distance. No. Because even if they were at the ends of the world, they still would do anything and everything to find each other.
It’s the papers. The contracts.
Who would’ve thought that mere sheets of paper would have the strength comparable to the great wall?
But they remind themselves constantly that these contracts, these papers, brought them together in the first place. The belief in the promises
of something big, something amazing, something special. The trust in the people who made these promises. And the need to fulfill the dreams that they’ve held on since they were kids.
They were both mislead. They reached their dreams, at a price. A price so high that not all of them had the strength to pay it back. But they persevered because of the people who believed in them, supported them, and made their dreams a reality.
These people are the witnesses of their story. The story that started with awkward mumbled Korean. The story of friendship that turned into something more. The love that was nurtured through time, through the hurt and the pain.
And everywhere, they made memories - each place, a special one.
On the floors of the practice room. The tiny kitchen in the dorm in Korea. The ramen shop near the company building. The tteokbokki stand beside their favorite bakery. The coffee shop in Myeongdong with the perfect pastries. The couch in their dorm in China. The small park in Berlin with the couple benches. The football field 3 blocks away from their dorm. The bench near Gate 120 at Incheon airport’s departure area. The quaint and quiet restaurant in Russia with the best steak they’ve eaten in a while.
The stage. A hundred different ones, all with very distinct memories.
They have enough memories to last them a lifetime, so being separated doesn’t seem so bad to them anymore.
But of course, they’re just being optimistic. Because they don’t know what the future holds for them.
So they decide to just live in the moment. Because the next few days would go by in a blur, when all they want is for time to stop.
They’re huddled under thick duvets. Their bodies pressed against each other, and their noses touching. They don’t say anything, cherishing the moment. Both trying to memorize and carve into their memories the features of the other. The lighting is dim, but it’s just enough to illuminate their faces.
“Minseok?”
They speak in hushed tones, even though the other members have agreed on giving them space. They know what’s about to happen. They’ve talked about it, and although there have been some disagreements, all of them understand.
“Hm?”
Minseok notices the slight hesitation in Luhan’s eyes, his pupils shaking a bit. His eyes are a bit muddled and blurred now, the usual shine and glow slowly fading away. That’s how Minseok knows. That’s how he knows he’s doing the right thing. That’s how he knows that this is for the best.
“Will you miss me?”
Luhan realizes he’s being stupid when he sees Minseok’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. It’s a stupid question. But it’s the one that had always bothered him. Will Minseok miss him? With the other being busy with the group’s schedules, will Minseok even have time to think about him?
“Why would you even think that?”
Minseok supposes he should be the one asking Luhan that very question. Because he knows the stress the other would be going through for the next few months would be very intense. And he also knows that there are a lot of projects waiting for Luhan when he gets back to China. The same projects the company rejected, still waiting for him.
“I just- I want this, us, to last, Minseok.”
Luhan has pondered about it for quite some time, especially during the nights when he just can’t fall asleep. What he has with Minseok is something he wants to keep for a very long time. He doesn’t say forever because he doesn’t believe in that. All he knows is that Minseok is for keeps. And even if the world is bent on bringing them apart, he wants to fight for what they have.
“It will. We will.”
Minseok understands and feels the worries Luhan has. But he sees the separation in a different light. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? A lot of people disagree, but Minseok can’t help but believe in it. It’s clichéd, yet it fits their situation perfectly. Honestly, Minseok thinks he’ll just about agree to anything that would make the ache in his heart less. He’d end up believing in the most clichéd things, just to make it all better. Because even if he’s been acting strong, it still hurts.
“You know I love you right?”
Luhan wants Minseok to know. To feel. To see. That he loves him so much. So much that if Minseok had just asked him to stay, he would. But Minseok didn’t. Because Minseok is the one who knows. Knows how difficult it is for him to find sleep at night. Knows all his worries and anxieties. It’s Minseok who holds his hands every single time they board a plane and reassures him that they would land safely. Love is patient; love is kind. So is Minseok. Maybe Luhan had used up all his luck when he met Minseok, but it’s all worth it. So Luhan wishes, hopes, and prays that fate will be on their side, even if luck isn’t.
“I know. I love you too, so much.”
Minseok doesn’t know when they’ll see each other again after the last few days they have, but he is certain that when the time comes, the love will be the same. Because he knows Luhan more than anything. He knows the boy like the back of his hand. The four years they had will never be enough, Minseok thinks. And letting Luhan go hurts, but it’s the right decision. Because all he wants is for Luhan to be healthy and happy, both things he cannot guarantee even if he tries his hardest. But he knows that their love is something that will not change, even when everything else does.
So when their final concert together ends, when the lights dim, when the cheers end, when they say their ‘I love you’s in the airport, when they have their final kiss, when the plane takes off, and Luhan lands in China, he’ll say he’s home.
But he’s not, because home is where the heart is. And his heart is with Minseok. And with him is Minseok’s.
They both know that one day, when they’re both in better places, when things are different, when the time is right, their hearts will meet again. And they will be home.