New Years
Title: New Years
Length: One-shot [418 words]
Pairing: YunJae
Rating:PG
Genre: Angst
Summary: There are only 6 more minutes until the minute hand of the clock strikes 12. And he’s still not here.
A/N: There's no names mentioned. So it can be either Yun or Jae =)
HAPPY NEW YEARS PEOPLE!!!!!~~
New Years
You lay on your side staring at the TV screen. The remote is clutched in your hand as you flip through the 100 sum channels. They’re all celebrations of the ending of the old 08 and the beginning of the new 09, or they're reruns of old dramas and variety shows.
Absentmindedly pressing the up arrow your eyes are trained on the clock on the wall above the television. Your eyes watch as each tick of the second hand goes by. Your ears only filled with the low buzzing of the TV and the loud ticks of the clock.
There are only 6 more minutes until the minute and hour hand of the clock strikes 12. And he’s still not here.
With a clang, the remote drops onto the hardwood floor, right beneath your limp hand; the TV staying on a gathering at some part of the city. Your eyes move from the people in the freezing cold towards the glass of bubbling Champagne on the coffee table.
Behind you was a table set up, dishes on top; now with cold food, the wax on the candle slowly melting and dripping onto the white table cloth. A bucket of Champagne that was open submerged in now lukewarm water sat on the kitchen counter.
In the back of your mind you know he won’t come. The food will go wasted, into the garbage. In your mind you know that he’s out with another, even if you wish and want with everything you have to give, for him to be beside you, hugging and kissing you. Loving you, and only you.
You slowly sit up, placing your bare feet onto the cool hardwood. You reach for the glass of alcohol. As you pick it up you look at the clock once again; 13 more seconds until the New Year. Your eyes drift down towards the television. Your ears now fill with the people counting down, with smiles on their frozen faces. You can’t help but count with them in a harsh whisper towards the bare walls.
…
8! (I’m still waiting)
7! (Come back to me)
6! (Please I beg you)
5! (There’s only 5 seconds left)
4! (Please, please, please)
3! (Please, I’ll do anything)
2! (You’re still not here)
1! (It’s still not too late)
Your ears fill with cheers and people shouting “Happy New Year!” as you look at the door you say to the empty room; as you chug down the liquid.
“Happy fucking New Years.”