Folded Notes and warm hands!

The cut that always bleeds

He always came back when the bruises had barely faded.
Always knocked gently on the door like he hadn't slammed it shut weeks ago.
Always said, "I missed you," like that made everything okay again.

And every time, Felix let him in.

"Hey," Changbin said, voice soft, eyes even softer.

Felix didn't say anything. He just stepped aside.

The apartment still smelled like him. Like cologne and late-night ramen. Like laughter that never lasted long enough.

Changbin dropped his bag on the floor like he'd never left. Like this was his home.

It wasn't.

Not really.

He never stayed long enough for that.

⸻

Later, they sat on the couch, the silence stretched thin between them.

"You're still not seeing him?" Felix asked, even though he didn't want to know.

Changbin shook his head. "We're done."

Felix nodded, staring at the scar on his wrist — a burn from cooking, small but ugly. Funny how some pain stayed even when it wasn't deep.

Changbin leaned in, their shoulders touching. "I only want to be here."

But you never stay, Felix wanted to scream.

Instead, he whispered, "Until you don't."

⸻

THIRD-PERSON — MEMORY

The first time Changbin kissed him, it felt like the world stopped spinning.
The first time Changbin left, it felt like it would never start again.

This was their rhythm:
Love.
Leave.
Apologize.
Repeat.

Every time, Felix forgave him.
Every time, he hoped it would be the last time.

⸻

FELIX — POV (Later That Night)

They laid in bed, the moonlight slicing through the curtains, silver and cruel.

Changbin's hand rested on his waist like it belonged there.

Felix turned to face him. "Do you love me?"

Changbin hesitated.

That was the answer.

Felix blinked slowly, tears threatening but not falling. "You always come back. But you never stay. Why?"

"I don't know," Changbin admitted. "I guess I love you in a way that doesn't know how to choose."

Felix's heart cracked — quietly, like glass underfoot.

"I wish you'd stop choosing me when you're lonely," he said. "Because I only know how to love you when you're here."

Silence.

Then: "I'm sorry."

Felix nodded, even though he didn't want to hear apologies anymore. He wanted someone who didn't need to be forgiven.

⸻

ENDING

The next morning, Changbin was gone.

No note.

Just his scent on the pillow and a song Felix couldn't stop hearing in his head.

A love that never stays still is just a wound you keep reopening.

And Felix was tired of bleeding.