JaeHo Drabble
Writing experiment. Don't mind this ^^
(and read only if you aren't feeling particularly happy)
unrequited jaeho; jaejoong-centric
780 words
It's late at night when he comes back home, and you wonder where he's been all evening long, why he hasn't called or replied to your messages.
He sees you sitting on the couch and stops - maybe wondering why you’re still up at this hour - and then comes towards you.
“Jaejoongie? There's something I want to tell you.” Yunho sits beside you, and his brilliant eyes and flushed face tell you everything you need to know. Everything you don't want to know.
You take a deep breath and smile at him encouragingly, hoping it looks real enough to fool someone that has known you for ages.
“Tell me” you say.
“Well, I...” he stops, looks at you sheepishly, and then his lips curve into a wide, childish smile. The happiness on his face is so painful you feel like screaming.
“I asked her out. And she said yes.” he looks at you expectantly, and then his brow furrows a little. “But don't worry, we're going to be very careful, I don't want to put out group in trouble” he says hastily, clearly mistaking your stricken expression for disapproval.
It's not like you didn't know. Everyone was making bets on how long it would've taken them, and you thought you were ready for it. You thought that after so many nights spent crying, after so many sensible talks with yourself you had managed to reduce the hurt to just a dull ache deep inside your chest. Something bearable. You thought that telling yourself don't be an idiot, there's nothing you could do anyway, stop being so immature countless times had worked.
But now you discover that the hurt had never gone away. It solidified inside your heart instead, a tight ball of pain you didn't want to touch in fear of suffering again. And Yunho's innocent words just tore it apart, leaving you with a gaping wound, a wound unhealing.
You have to dig your fingers into your thigh with all your strength to keep the tears from coming, and you're bitterly proud of yourself when your voice comes out just a little shaky.
“I'm very happy for you, Yunho. Really.” You don't know how sincere your words sound, but that's the best you can do for him, now. Because you do want him to be happy, only now it's too soon for you.
“Jaejoongie” he says softly, hesitating a little, and a for a fleeting, crazy moment, you think he's going to apologize, to say he's sorry, to say you are the one he wants. But why should he? You have no right to ask for something like that.
“I think you should try and find a girlfriend yourself” he says, and you freeze. “it's awesome, being in love”. You look at his soft, distant expression and bite the inside of your cheek until the coppery tang of blood invades your mouth.
You force a weak smile on your lips and nod. “I think so, too.” Yes, except the ice in your heart won't melt, and you find yourself fleeing the room with a muttered apology to Yunho, unable to stand his presence anymore.
You cry all night, muffling agonized sobs into the pillow not to wake Yoochun. You know he'd hold you and comfort you with the warmth of his friendship, if you'd let him, but you don't want to see that confused look on his face that show he doesn't really understand. You don't want to be pitied, don't want to look so disgustingly weak.
And you realize how selfish you are - how selfish and stupid and immature. You ask yourself why you can't be like everyone else, why you can't just let it go and tell yourself it was just a crush and to get over it. Except you feel like choking, choking on the flood of dark emotions that constrict your throat and make it hard to breathe, so you claw your nails into the pillow to try and get a grip of yourself. And you wonder what will tear first, your nails or the fabric of the pillow, but you don't really care.
Morning comes far too fast, and you drag yourself out of bed. Your twin in the mirror looks back with puffy red eyes and a broken smile. You feel like punching him, punching yourself, for being so ridiculously pathetic.
You knew you had no chances right from the start, so why? So why all this bitterness, all this longing, all this pain? Why?
You take a deep breath. “I'll be fine” you promise yourself. Unwanted tears rise to sting your eyes, but you brush them away with anger.
I'll be fine.
(and read only if you aren't feeling particularly happy)
unrequited jaeho; jaejoong-centric
780 words
It's late at night when he comes back home, and you wonder where he's been all evening long, why he hasn't called or replied to your messages.
He sees you sitting on the couch and stops - maybe wondering why you’re still up at this hour - and then comes towards you.
“Jaejoongie? There's something I want to tell you.” Yunho sits beside you, and his brilliant eyes and flushed face tell you everything you need to know. Everything you don't want to know.
You take a deep breath and smile at him encouragingly, hoping it looks real enough to fool someone that has known you for ages.
“Tell me” you say.
“Well, I...” he stops, looks at you sheepishly, and then his lips curve into a wide, childish smile. The happiness on his face is so painful you feel like screaming.
“I asked her out. And she said yes.” he looks at you expectantly, and then his brow furrows a little. “But don't worry, we're going to be very careful, I don't want to put out group in trouble” he says hastily, clearly mistaking your stricken expression for disapproval.
It's not like you didn't know. Everyone was making bets on how long it would've taken them, and you thought you were ready for it. You thought that after so many nights spent crying, after so many sensible talks with yourself you had managed to reduce the hurt to just a dull ache deep inside your chest. Something bearable. You thought that telling yourself don't be an idiot, there's nothing you could do anyway, stop being so immature countless times had worked.
But now you discover that the hurt had never gone away. It solidified inside your heart instead, a tight ball of pain you didn't want to touch in fear of suffering again. And Yunho's innocent words just tore it apart, leaving you with a gaping wound, a wound unhealing.
You have to dig your fingers into your thigh with all your strength to keep the tears from coming, and you're bitterly proud of yourself when your voice comes out just a little shaky.
“I'm very happy for you, Yunho. Really.” You don't know how sincere your words sound, but that's the best you can do for him, now. Because you do want him to be happy, only now it's too soon for you.
“Jaejoongie” he says softly, hesitating a little, and a for a fleeting, crazy moment, you think he's going to apologize, to say he's sorry, to say you are the one he wants. But why should he? You have no right to ask for something like that.
“I think you should try and find a girlfriend yourself” he says, and you freeze. “it's awesome, being in love”. You look at his soft, distant expression and bite the inside of your cheek until the coppery tang of blood invades your mouth.
You force a weak smile on your lips and nod. “I think so, too.” Yes, except the ice in your heart won't melt, and you find yourself fleeing the room with a muttered apology to Yunho, unable to stand his presence anymore.
You cry all night, muffling agonized sobs into the pillow not to wake Yoochun. You know he'd hold you and comfort you with the warmth of his friendship, if you'd let him, but you don't want to see that confused look on his face that show he doesn't really understand. You don't want to be pitied, don't want to look so disgustingly weak.
And you realize how selfish you are - how selfish and stupid and immature. You ask yourself why you can't be like everyone else, why you can't just let it go and tell yourself it was just a crush and to get over it. Except you feel like choking, choking on the flood of dark emotions that constrict your throat and make it hard to breathe, so you claw your nails into the pillow to try and get a grip of yourself. And you wonder what will tear first, your nails or the fabric of the pillow, but you don't really care.
Morning comes far too fast, and you drag yourself out of bed. Your twin in the mirror looks back with puffy red eyes and a broken smile. You feel like punching him, punching yourself, for being so ridiculously pathetic.
You knew you had no chances right from the start, so why? So why all this bitterness, all this longing, all this pain? Why?
You take a deep breath. “I'll be fine” you promise yourself. Unwanted tears rise to sting your eyes, but you brush them away with anger.
I'll be fine.