##
7 years ago
You stand in front of the mirror and gaze at the woman looking back at you. Donned in a blush dress, pearl earrings, and a cream-colored scarf as a headband on your hair, you think you look pretty great. Elegant is a word you could use; you always took after your mom's style and people described her as such. Some of your instructors think the same, but all that matters is what one specific man thinks.
Your phone beeps to tell you he's arrived, so you grab your bags and head out the door.
"Going out again?" Your father's voice stops you, but you sense only curiosity in his tone.
"Yup, and I'm sleeping over at Tae's," you lie; he's the perfect alibi, really. "Bye!"
You turn away and skip outside, towards the car that's parked across the street. Routinely, Yoongi drives away immediately in case your father decides to check who's picking you up, and it's on the first stoplight right as you exit your neighborhood that you turn to the man next to you and kiss his cheek.
"Happy anniversary, baby," you smile.
Yoongi's eyes trace your face and your body as he smiles back. "Happy anniversary, jagi. You look really beautiful."
You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Your boyfriend usually compliments you when his head's buried in your neck since he tends to get shy, so when he says those words while he gazes at you, you can't help but feel flustered, an effect he just has on you.
It's been a year since you both admitted your feelings for each other and you get to celebrate that today with a stay-in movie afternoon and dinner at the restaurant where he took you on that first fancy date.
Yoongi says he was supposed to cook for you for lunch but decided instead to go to the cafe you went to after that spin-the-bottle make-out session.
"It's where it all started," he says as he pulls up at the place.
"Where it started was actually Jungkook's apartment," you correct him.
"Technically, it started in the gym where we had our game," he counters.
"Right. Where you got hit by the ball because you were so smitten by me," you tease.
"Yah," he pouts. "You have broken my trust because you told Taehyung about that."
"It makes me giddy, I couldn't help it," you giggle.
You go through lunch with your usual stories and banter and then head to his apartment, which looks much cozier than you remember it being 2 days ago when you were last here. There's a vase with marigolds on the dining table, throw pillows on the floor, and comfy blankets on his tiny couch. There's even a popcorn machine and mood lights that he got for the occasion.
"Baby, what's all this?" You smile, pulling him close.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, he shrugs. "Just thought I'd clean up a bit."
"It's perfect," you say, embracing him for a deep kiss.
You make yourself comfortable on the couch as you curl into him. You finally decide your choice of movie to be Love and Other Drugs, which makes you bawl your eyes out, and that's followed by Yoongi's choice of Love and Basketball, which makes him quite emotional.
Once you've both sorted your feelings out and kissed until you ran out of breath, you head to the restaurant for dinner and eat something fancier than what you had the last time. When Yoongi asks for the bill, the server informs him that one Mr. Min has settled it.
"My dad?" He wonders out loud.
"Yes," the server replies. "We just called him as instructed and it's all been paid for. He wishes both of you a happy anniversary."
Yoongi smiles to himself and sends a message to his old man. A simple thank you would do even if there's more for him to say.
"That's so sweet," you gush. "I'll visit him tomorrow and give him the biggest hug. I just love how supportive he is."
Yoongi agrees and thinks of the times his dad let him off work early or not at all to be with you when you'd visit or when he'd go to Seoul for you. He remembers the small smiles and words of encouragement when you're mentioned. He remembers all the ways his dad has shown that he's happy for his son who's found someone who loves him the way you do. Yet even then, there's a bit of sadness at the thought.
"He's like that with my brother and his girlfriend, too," Yoongi shares. "I think he's just happy that we get to have a relationship like this, you know? Maybe it reminds him of what he lost. He constantly tells us not to screw it up."
His mom grew up at a farm and worked hard at their family's business. But she always dreamed of the big city life as a career woman and always wanted to be somewhere at the center of things. She wanted the fast pace and glitz and glamor and little luxuries that she couldn't have here. She put those desires on hold when she met his dad; fell in love immediately and made a life here that seemed to override whatever dreams she had.
He did his best - worked extremely hard at the shop, built her a house she wanted, took her to Seoul regularly for the thrill she sought. She did his best, too - returned his love and affection, took care of the family they created, and stayed every time he asked her to, even if she wanted more. He didn't want to let go of his life here. Neither did he want to lose her, but he eventually did, after the last time he asked her to stay and she said she no longer couldn't.
Yoongi doesn't know why his dad didn't do more, but then again, he thinks he shouldn't have asked her to stay that first time. If she wanted him at the end of it all, then losing her temporarily would've been better than trapping her in this life where she wasn't completely happy. Being with someone while dreaming of another - better - life just isn't sustainable, and Yoongi wishes he was old enough to tell that to his old man.
"Well, if we're adding to your dad's joy, then that's wonderful," you say. "At least we're not the only ones happy."
You finish the sumptuous meal and head back to Yoongi's apartment to continue the celebration. There's a gift you want to give, you say, and he says that so does he.
You sit on the floor with him and retrieve the Yamazaki whiskey from your bag to his confusion then delight, saying that you snuck it out of your dad's liquor cabinet and it's one of many.
"This isn't the gift though," you say, as he pours each of you a glass. "This is."
He opens the box that you hand him and softly smiles. He stares at it for a while before feeling the material, smelling it, and then unfolding it.
It's the vintage Allen Iverson jersey he said he's been saving up for, and you're glad that your few months' salary from acting and being the assistant to the production assistant of the show you did an extra for were enough to afford this. The way his fingers trace the threading and the hem tells you he likes it.
"I love it when you talk about basketball even if I don't always understand it," you smile. "I hope you keep sharing it with me."
"Thank you, jagi," he whispers, feeling like there's more to say that he can't find words for, so he kisses you tenderly instead. He knows he'll be wearing this as often as possible. "Now, I went a bit personal with my gift," he says, placing a box on your lap.
You excitedly open it to find a floral silk scarf that looks incredibly elegant, and you squeal in joy at how pretty it looks.
"Baby, this is so beautiful. I've been looking for something like this."
"Good," he giggles. "There's one more thing, though."
You remove wrapping paper and see a notebook underneath. The cover looks pretty ordinary, but you feel the tears form once you flip through the pages.
It's like his diary for the past year, with as little as one-sentence entries to as long as a whole page.
We watched A Moment to Remember for the 5th time and she cried again. Wish I got to hug her
She fell asleep on video call and talked in her sleep. Cute
She spent our whole drive to Busan talking. Some stories she's told me already but it's okay. I can listen to her talk everyday and not get bored
I arrived at her apartment late and she was upset with me even though she kept denying it. I knew because she didn't kiss me until the second hour. But I should've kissed her sooner
She rushed from her filming to get to my graduation on time. I wish I knew the right words to express how much it meant to me. I'll always remember it
I told her I love her first and she giggled. Yah, I couldn't stop smiling!
You use the notebook to cover your tear-stained face; you're ugly crying by now and you're too shy to show him, but he's why you're like this in the first place.
"Jagi, that gift is supposed to make you laugh because it's cringey," he says, pulling your arm so he could see you. "Is it really that embarrassing?"
"What are you saying?" You cry some more. "It's the sweetest thing ever. Baby, you don't tell me these things."
"Exactly," he chuckles. "I get shy and weirded out so I just write them down. Being away from you is hard and I don't know if I get to express enough when we're apart and even when you're here, so... yeah."
"Baby, you express enough in other ways," you assure him. "But this is so, so special. I will read this everyday and imagine it in your voice and your soft, shy smile."
Yoongi groans. "Just don't show Taehyung, okay? That's a super-secret, for-your-eyes-only, once-in-a-lifetime thing."
You laugh at the way he pouts, and it prompts you to position yourself on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.
"You won't be doing this for our second anniversary?" You ask.
"Well, my plan is to say more this time," he mumbles, "and not just write them. I... I know you need to hear the words, too."
"However you want to say them is however I need to know them," you respond, kissing him deeply. "You love me, that's what matters. Whether I hear it or read it, as long as I feel it," you continue.
You nibble his lip as the tension starts to build. With desire in your eyes, you kiss his cheek down to his jaw. "And I really wanna feel it."
The words affect Yoongi immediately, and he pushes against your clothed cunt to tease. "Well, do you feel it?"
You giggle your yes in his ear, a sweet sound he likes hearing no matter how turned on he is.
Yoongi lays you on the floor, ensuring there's a blanket to rest your head on. Propped up on one arm, he kisses you, soft and teasing the way he likes, while he unbuttons your dress. He cups your cheek like he always does, his thumb detouring to your mouth for you to suck gently, and his dick throbs at the sight. But he pushes on - pulling down your bra, flicking your nipple, and smirking when your back arches already when he hasn't even done that much yet.
His fingers reach your sopping cunt and they play you like his favorite game - skillfully, confidently, revealing that cockiness that only comes out when he does something he knows he's good at.
You smile through the pleasure, pulling him for a kiss in between your moans. You try to reach for his dick, mumbling how you want it in your mouth so he switches positions, kneeling to your side to be swallowed by you while still pleasuring you with his hand.
The sounds you make are obscene while he maintains his groans and hushed curses. He just wants to ingrain this image in his mind to remind him of how perfect you are for each other. The way you make each other feel isn't something that can be replicated. Even with barely any words, he knows that you know how he feels, especially once he shifts again to enter inside you now, letting you feel how hard you've made him.
It's slow but intentional at first. He wants it intimate, with him hovering over you and kissing down your jaw. But as your moans intensify, so does his pleasure, so he gets on his knees and pulls your legs apart, giving him the perfect angle to thrust into you roughly.
"Fuck, baby, ye—" you keen. "Don't stop. Fuck, don't stop."
Yoongi doesn't. He lets himself get lost in the feel and sound of you, gripping your waist as he pushes deeper and deeper. Your shaking legs signal that it's close to too much, and with a few flicks of your nub, you come crashing, and at your pleas for him to come with you, he crashes as well.
He lays next to your side and pulls you in his arms.
"Oh, baby. You're such a freaky romantic," you tease, cupping his cheek this time and planting a soft kiss on his lips. His look softens. "Day 1, year 2. We came so hard and then she giggled and kissed me," he narrates, causing you to laugh again. "She's so adorable when she looks so soft. I love her so much."
**
Summer ends too soon for you. By the middle of it, there were less of the lazy days at Yoongi's apartment and more of the cafe runs before his training with a developmental team. It's the usual next step, as the draft for the professional teams is still a few months from now, and this is where players get scouted. It's basically their time to show the big league what they're made of; the media hypes the players up as well and that adds to the anticipation of their eventual debut on the national stage.
Your support for Yoongi didn't waver. Once he passed the tryout for the best team in the area, he spent a lot of time on the court. You'd wake up to an empty bed next to you because he's off to morning training; some afternoons were spent in another city where the game was being held. But whenever he was back at home with you, it was all cuddles and kisses and inside stories and excitement from him.
There's this joy he has whenever he plays. It's not as obvious because unlike his teammates, Yoongi doesn't react much. But since you watch him and not really the game, you notice how he always looks around the court before every match. You see the tiniest of smiles whenever he makes a shot or a good pass. You feel his focus when he's seated on the bench, watching his teammates and then whispering something to them after.
He was their college team's captain not because he was the most vocal, but because he was the most observant. He knew every team member's individual strengths and highlighted those, and this time was no different. He always said he's a student of the game and would spend entire days just watching play-by-plays and analyses.
But you enjoyed every day you got to watch him train or play. You snuck in a smirk or two when you'd caught his attention, and he took his revenge by gazing at you after a made-shot until you felt hot all over. He really is a confident one when he's on the court.
You left in tears as you did the year before. You knew it was gonna be harder this time - he'd be more focused with training and getting drafted while you'd be in your final year of university. But you promised you'd still see each other as much as you could and you stayed true to that.
Months pass and though less frequent and shorter, the visits continue. So do the regular calls and texts, even if your exhaustion shows more and his frustration over losses hits harder. But the care and love remain.
He assures you of being fully with you after he gets drafted - wherever that may be; he said he hopes he'll be based in Seoul - and you assure him the same after you graduate. The life you never even thought you'd want is slowly shaping up. You imagine the nice house in the big city and days of his basketball games and your movies. You imagine the mornings and evenings together, all the talks and the lovemaking, and all the hurt from your past being let go.
It was all good until it wasn't. All it took was one bad fall, a broken kneecap, and a shattered dream to change everything.
**
6.5 years ago
The bell over the door rings, signaling a customer, and Yoongi smiles at the sight of you entering.
"Hey," you greet, kissing him as you walk behind the counter, careful not to hit his casted knee. "I'm sorry I'm late. The agents took a while to inform us on who got the extras for this series. Couldn't leave until then. Are you okay?"
"Did you get a role?" He asks, wanting to know how you are instead of him constantly saying how he's been, which is pretty much the same this past week.
It's been 3 months since the injury. He got a steal and went for a fast break, got inadvertently hit by an opponent, and then fell on his knee. It was a serious one, he'd been told; it would require weeks of bed rest and more of physical therapy. The mental side of it wasn't something the doctor warned him about, though, and Yoongi thinks it's been the worst.
He spent \days in bed with nothing to do, wishing he was on the court to train and play as draft day neared. He had this crazy thought that he'd still make it on time, but when his coach visited one day and told him bluntly - as Yoongi requested - that no professional teams are willing to contract an injured player, he felt his life crash down. It didn't help to learn that the Seoul Thunders planned on signing him; that would've been the perfect path for him so he could be with you.
He moved back with his dad, a knot forming in his heart every time because Yoongi doesn't like being taken care of, especially when as an adult, he feels like it's his job to watch over his old man.
He loathed himself for not being there for you, too. Agencies usually start getting senior acting students, and you got rejected from your first 4 choices. You tried to mask your dejection during your video calls, asking instead how he's been doing. He shrugged things off, saying he was okay, the same thing you were doing, and he felt that both of you were just trying to protect the other, or even yourselves, knowing that the comfort you both badly needed wasn't an arm's reach away.
When you finally got that call from a small agency, which you became ecstatic about after learning that they really seemed to care about their talents, he celebrated with you through the screen. He felt you play it down, though, and he knew you didn't want him to feel bad. The restrained smiles hurt him more than he could say, though, and he wanted badly to just see your joy again.
"I got a role, just a small one," you smile now. "And you, Mr., why are you out of the house? Being in a cast and cleared to move doesn't mean you should be doing it all day."
Your crossed arms and pouty face endears him, and he can't help but chuckle.
"I've been stuck in my old room for months, jagi. I'm sick of the bed and staring at the NBA posters on my wall and all the awards I've won," he says, his voice and his face falling. "It's... it's not a good place to be."
"I'm sorry, baby," you say, kissing his hand.
The front door opens and Mr. Min enters, who's just as surprised to see his son manning the shop.
"What are you doing here!" He scolds. "You're supposed to be resting at home!"
"I'm trying to get the business going so we could earn and pay for my medical bills," Yoongi answers, his face hardening now at the reminder of the sacrifices of his dad just so he could get the best care.
The developmental team and the insurance could only cover so much. Jungkook and Namjoon even gathered their friends to raise funds just to help, and much as Yoongi didn't want to accept it, he knew rejecting the offer would bury his dad further in debt.
"That isn't your job, son," Mr. Min counters. "It's mine."
"It is, after I made that fast break knowing I'd get fouled. It was unnecessary. I shouldn't have."
"It's a play you've done so many times before. You wouldn't have known how it would end. There's no one to blame for this," his dad huffs.
You can tell this conversation has happened before, and as you look at Yoongi's dejected eyes, you know that he's feeling much more than he's been telling you, and you curse at yourself for being too tired and preoccupied to see behind his smiles.
"I just..." he starts, then shakes his head. "I just wanna do something else that isn't lying down and feeling sorry for myself. I need to be productive. I'm just sitting here on the counter; I can stay here while you work on some pieces."
"Fine," his dad sighs. "But you're off by 5."
You stay with Yoongi until then, talking about how your days have been. He insists you tell him stories and you do, indulging him for now. Mr. Min drives both of you to their house and prepares dinner, and you notice that as time passes, Yoongi gets more quiet.
You remember the date and your heart breaks for him even more.
"Mr. Min, I'm sorry to ask but is it okay if I stay with Yoongi tonight?" You say, as you help him clean up in the kitchen. "It's draft night and I don't want him to be alone."
The man stops his movements and glances at his son whose eyes that have lost the life in them stare at the ceiling. As a father, there's no such pain like this. He thought that witnessing his sons lose their playfulness after he couldn't get their mother to stay was hard enough, but it wasn't as painful as seeing his child lose his drive and passion over a crushed dream. He knows there's not much he can do but you do, so he agrees.
"Of course, my dear," he smiles sadly. "Thank you for being patient with him. I know it hasn't always been easy."
"It's all I can do," you hum. "I just wish he doesn't keep all the pain to himself."
"I remind him that he shouldn't, but it's something he just does," Mr. Min sighs. "Just give him some more time."
"I will," you nod, walking back to your boyfriend who smiles faintly when you say you'll be staying the night.
You watch a rom-com and curl into him the entire time, laughing against his chest, intertwining your fingers with his, and nuzzling his neck to give him some form of comfort and distraction from what's going on in some hall in Seoul. Wrapped in his arms as you prepare to sleep, you whisper words of love and encouragement, relaying what his dad had told you - that it isn't the end, that he's too young to think it is, that he has time after he recovers, and that he'll be back strong soon enough.
Yoongi hums, kissing your forehead to tell you that he appreciates your positivity, that he wants to believe in your words, that your love has been the only light during these past 3 months of darkness. He lets your soft breaths sing him to sleep and he kisses you again - in apology this time, for keeping all his pain from you, for letting you see him suffer, for not loving you as he should, and for thinking that despite all the support you're giving him, he's not quite sure how to get through all this.
**
6 years ago
The pain from a broken dream is something that's hard to comprehend. You tried to understand it once, when your mom told you about her own injury that had her retire from ballet early. It wasn't just the physical pain, she said; the way the heart and soul hurt is indescribable. It wasn't as simple as trying again after recovering; the fear of a re-injury is paralyzing, the missed opportunities are haunting, and the unwanted encouragement was jarring.
"It crushes something inside of you and you're just lost," she told you.
You think about her words as you look around Yoongi's room, void of the love for the sport that used to burst out of him. You've just arrived from Seoul after a day of celebrations after your graduation yesterday, a milestone that your boyfriend wasn't a part of because he hadn't been feeling well; he'll celebrate with you back home where it's just the both of you, he'd said, not feeling like he's ready to be around other people.
He's been feeling that since the injury, you sigh to yourself. Even after he removed the cast and could walk and run again, you two have barely gone out of the house every time you've visited, which is almost every week. Never mind the auditions you missed and the late nights; you had to go see him every time because he couldn't, and you're not sure if he was more upset that he's not able to go to you, or that you were the one who had to see him every time. You can't really tell; Yoongi hasn't been open and expressive in a while.
The walls are now bare, with tape markings from the posters that were once displayed. There's a trash bag next to his bin, and you find all his trophies and medals thrown inside. You fold the clothes on his bed and put them in his cabinet, finding that all his school and NBA jerseys are messily placed at the back, including the Allen Iverson one that you gifted him over a year ago, the one he once wore almost everyday.
"You don't need to do that," he hums, closing his closet door. "It's fine."
"Is it?" You bravely ask. "Are you?"
"I don't know how else I can answer that differently from the way I did last week, or the week before that, and before that," he says too dryly. "You ask every time and I answer the same way."
Yoongi watches your eyes lose their sparkle that was already faint in the first place. It's been like that for a while. He supposes it's the exhaustion from having to take the long trip every weekend to see him; once, you even came here for just a day because you learned he had a breakdown and wouldn't stop crying. He doesn't tell you that it still happens every few days, knowing that it would worry you even more.
You're also probably just tired of having to deal with him - of missing out on the little things that he used to pick up so easily, of not telling you much about his empty, monotonous days, of not initiating or barely returning your affection. He can't blame you, and though he knows of the extent of your love that would weather all this for and with him, he also knows you don't deserve this broken version of the man who's been unable to love you the way you've been needing him to.
It wasn't always like this. He was optimistic at one point, but the hope of getting back on the court slowly faded when the healing process took longer than expected, as the presence of his friends and family became too suffocating, as the love he once had for the sport turned into fear.
He was cleared to move around and do light physical activities the other day and he decided to head to his favorite court at the park for a shoot around. Everything was unfamiliar. The feel of the ball in his hand didn't feel the same, the movement of his legs were off, the open space made him claustrophobic.
But he pushed through. He tried to take shots but would freeze whenever he had to jump. It's like he couldn't move, and that's when he knew that the fear had taken over - he's afraid he's no longer the same, that he'll get injured again, that the sport he committed himself to no longer has space in its world for him.
The breakdown wasn't intense like the first few times. It was silent but heavy, controlling his limbs to go back to his house, rip the posters from his wall, throw all his trophies in a trash bag, and hide everything else that reminded him of basketball. He slept well that night, thinking that it's how it is to let go of a dream, but he woke up the next day feeling all the pain and fear and regret and sadness over something he'd lost, and all he wanted was to be able to hold you.
But he's hurting you and he knows it, and he doesn't know how to stop. He doesn't know how all the broken parts of him could comfort and love you when he's hurting himself. He doesn't know how his broken dream could support you. You loved him for his passion, for his kindness, for the way he looked at life; he doesn't know what's left after all of those have gone.
"I'm sorry, I just don't really know what to say," he continues after the tense silence. "But you're here and we're celebrating your graduation. This is all about you. I had food delivered. It should arrive soon, let's go."
"Okay," you whisper, turning away and walking ahead.
He sees you try to engage but your smile fades quickly. You feel distant at night when you don't curl into his body like you normally do and he knows why, as he sees through the light from outside - you're crying in your sleep, and for the first time, he doesn't think he's enough to make all your hurt go away.
**
The next few weeks fly by in a blur. After the trip back home where you tried to celebrate your graduation with Yoongi, only to feel helpless at not being able to comfort him like you used to, you're unable to visit until the next month. The roles you've been trying to scoop up just to get exposure and build networks have been taking much of your time, including the hostess job at a restaurant that you decided to take just so you could pay the bills.
Yoongi doesn't seem to mind though; he doesn't look for you the way he used to. You're unsure if it's the time spent apart, if it's him getting tired with this arrangement, or if it's that part of him that's still suffering that's why your relationship is suffering, too.
Much as you want to just confront him about how everything's affected the both of you, he doesn't seem to be open. He's detached most times, disinterested in what's going on in either of your lives, and just drained of energy. It's hurting you more than you'd like to admit because this can't possibly be more difficult for you than it is for him.
So you keep it all in - how you miss his smile and his kisses, how you wish he could let you share his pain, how you want to just pause your life in Seoul so you could be with him until he's better, until he's able to love himself again, until he can love you again the way he used to.
You cry on the morning that his dad calls to tell you that he'd found Yoongi at 3AM, asleep in his car that was parked near the court where he used to play. Mr. Min had been so worried and drove around town to find his son who wasn't picking up his phone, and Yoongi had only muttered an apology and barely spoke after they got home.
You take the first train you could back to Daegu, rushing to his room once you arrive. You hug him tightly, tempted to express all your anger and disappointment and apology and desperation over how things have been for him and for both of you.
"Talk to me," you beg, looking at him with tears in your eyes. "Baby, talk to me. Tell me what's going on. It's been hard tiptoeing around you, guessing what you're feeling and not knowing how to comfort you. Let me know how I can help."
Yoongi merely looks away, seeming as if even as you plead for him to let you in, he just doesn't want to.
The silence is deafening; it never felt this heavy, this scary, nor this painful.
"How did it get so hard to love you?" You finally cry out, feeling your heart burst out of your chest at the words that have been swimming in your head.
You never thought it would ever get this bad. You know he needs you and you're willing to be there even if there's so little of you to give, but the distance has gotten too much; no matter how hard you reach your hand, he's just not willing to take it.
"Then stop," he says pointedly, surprising you. "You're not the only one having a hard time."
"You don't mean that."
"I do."
He does, in ways he can't explain. Maybe in ways you won't ever understand. It's hard to love someone when he knows he's lost himself; it's not easy to believe he still deserves you when he can't give you everything you deserve.
"It's hard but you still do. You still love me, I know it," you argue.
Yoongi looks away. That's how you know you're right. It's in the longing in his eyes that he doesn't want you to see. His quivering lips tell you he's holding back, that there's more of that pain in the rubble of the dream that was once so strong and so real.
"This hasn't been working out," he says, a thought you'd only let live in your head for fear that voicing it out would signal that you're giving up on a love that's meant the world to you. "It's a miracle we even made it this long after what happened. I had plans for us - playing for a team, living with you, sustaining us... But all that's gone down the drain and I can't... I can't keep living like this - being so far from you, worrying about you worrying about me, waiting for the day that I'll get over myself just so I could give you a fraction of what you give me. The distance has just made everything so fucking hard."
"So ask me to stay," you tell him, walking towards him so he could see in your eyes how serious you are, that you're willing to give things up for him so you could love him better, so that could make him heal faster. "Let me stay here with you. Let me be with you."
Yoongi gazes back at you and so many memories flood his mind.
He remembers the first time. The first conversation he'd overheard when his dad asked his mother to stay. And how she did.
He remembers the second time and the third.
He remembers how the joy was fleeting, and how miserable she looked days later, like something was missing. Like the people in the home they built stopped being enough.
And he remembers the last time - the last time his dad asked her to stay, and how for the first time, she said no, and she took her bags and walked out the door. Yoongi remembers the tears in her eyes and her whispered apology, but that she looked like something he'd never seen until that day. That day, she looked free.
"I can't ask you that," he says in a hushed tone as he looks away, like the words aren't his, like the words hurt just as much. "I can't ask you to stay. I won't let you."
"But you're here. I belong where you are."
"Not here. You never belonged here."
"If you think that pretending you don't want me anymore will convince me that you don't, then you're wrong. I know that's not true. Just ask me to stay. I need to hear that you want me to stay."
"I'm not pretending. I do want you. So much. But so will the rest of the world, and that's what you deserve," he answers. "There's nothing for you here, ___. One day, I'll stop being enough and it will be too late."
"You don't know that," you insist.
"I do."
"I'm not your mother, Yoongi. And you're not your dad."
"Exactly. You dream of something more than just living in the big city. You dream of something you can and you will achieve because you're destined for it. You're not her. And I'm not him. Because I'd never ask you to give up anything to keep you here."
"Then come with me," you plead. "Seoul is big enough for the both of us."
"It is. But you'll be bigger," he says, cupping your cheek now. "You belong there while I... I have my own broken dreams that I need to piece back together. And I can only do that here. I won't let them hurt you like they're hurting me. I can't love you right with the broken parts of me. So please, ___. Don't stay. You and I both know you won't be happy here."
You remember your mom's words as she described what emptiness felt like after she stopped dancing. Not only did she lose her capability but she lost her drive, too; she lost herself in the pain of it all. And that haunted her. It was like a ghost that she let live with her even after you and your sisters came along, and you all had to suffer because she forced herself to be okay and love the people around her even if everything else hurt.
You'll never know what it feels like but you understand. And so you concede, dropping your head to rest on his chest and hugging him as you sob.
"I'm so sorry, jagi," he whispers in your ear. "I thought I was strong enough for this but I'm not. What's left of me just can't... it just can't love you the same way anymore."
You hold onto him tighter in response, not able to say just how much it hurts, but that you'll suffer through it on your own and let him go like he wants.
Maybe this is what he needs. And loving him the way you do, maybe giving him up is how you could love him even more.
**
5 years ago
The start of spring usually brings with it new beginnings, with the colors coming back and the sun shining a lot brighter this time. You're finally able to take a day off from your hostess job at the restaurant after working there for 6 days, with your last acting gig having wrapped up just last week. It's still tough starting out, and while your extra role had you in ⅔ of the season's episodes, it's still nowhere near the break you badly need.
You're looking forward to today though, as Jungkook and Namjoon promised to treat you to a fancy lunch after their game against each other; they were drafted by the Seoul and Incheon developmental basketball teams respectively, in time for the draft in a few months. You've seen them at least 3 times since they both moved out of Daegu, and every time has been full of laughter, with both of them asking to be set up with your actor friends.
The topic of Yoong still comes up, with you asking how he's been doing. He's been fine, they say. He showed up at their graduation and joined the celebration after they got drafted. It's a far cry to how their captain was not long ago - distant, angry, and completely rid of anything that reminded him of the sport.
Both men show up at the restaurant with their usual smiles, and after ordering so much food that you wouldn't have been able to afford, you have your usual chat - about life back in Daegu, about your friends, and about basketball.
"And Yoongi?" You ask. "Is he still doing okay?"
Jungkook blinks at you repeatedly before nodding and downing his soda. "Uh-uh," he hums.
He doesn't follow it up and instead nudges Namjoon, who adds that yes, their captain is doing better; they visited him the other month after they both went home for the weekend.
You eye both men as they hyper focus on their food and try to change the subject.
"You're both terrible liars, you know that, right?" You frown at them. "I know we've been broken up a while but I'd still appreciate it if you told me how he's really doing. Is... is he feeling down again? Did something happen? Is it his dad?"
"No. Yoongi's, uh," Namjoon sighs. "He's doing really well, ___. He's just..."
"Namjoon," you huff, "you're scaring me."
"He has a girlfriend," Jungkook blurts, earning him a shove from his friend.
"You could've softened the blow," Namjoon groans.
"You were stuttering," Jungkook argues. He turns to you and gives you a sad look. "It's... it's been going for like, a few months. She's a local musician and she's nice. She seems to be treating him well. I'm... I'm sorry."
"Hey, nothing to apologize for," you smile, meaning it. "As long as he's doing okay, though, right? And I'm really glad that he is."
The men sigh in relief, perhaps thinking you'd take the news worse than this.
You try to maintain your composure and control the tears that are about to fall as the meal goes on, a skill you're close to mastering. You've wanted nothing more than for Yoongi to heal and feel alive again and he seems to be; maybe finding someone who could be there for him physically and emotionally was what he really needed. Clearly, that wasn't you. And clearly, it wouldn't take long for him to realize that. You have no doubt that your breakup hurt him, but you also didn't think he'd move on from it like this and this soon, considering how it ended.
Hoseok, your agent, calls and cuts your lunch short, as he says he got to book you a walk-in audition for a supporting role in a mini-series, with the directors wanting someone new and having a certain innocent, youthful look about them.
You bid your friends goodbye, with them hugging you a little more tightly than earlier, saying that they wish you all the happiness in the world and that maybe, this audition will get you closer to what you've always wanted.
You wait a few hours for your turn to audition, reining in all your emotions so you could translate it during your few minutes of time in front of the panel. You're not sure if it's the best thing for your heart that the scene is one where you're watching the man you want to be with be with someone else, but after you put in your all and notice the small smile of one of the woman in front of you, you think that maybe allowing yourself to be this vulnerable wasn't so bad.
Hoseok treats you to a late dinner and tells you that it seemed like you did well. Maybe the payoff to the hurt from today will materialize one day, maybe it won't. But nothing changes the way your heart breaks at the thought of Yoongi moving on.
You cry yourself to bed and decide that it's time for you to move on, too. You wake up the next morning and tear the photo of the both of you that's still on your bedside.
What's left of you has nothing left for him, too. You hope you'll get over this soon enough.
##