5 years ago — October 7th, 2018
Beneath the sheltering boughs of the majestic oak tree, sit Minho and Jisung.
Boyfriends.
Minho could still hardly believe it was true— that Han Jisung, the one and only, was all his. And had been, for two years, on this very day. It was the second annual mark of their relationship, the light of their lives— another year swept away of their undying love.
He embraces the smile breaking onto his face, finding respite from the world around him. It was a good day. Minho wishes he had good days like these, all the time.
Jisung fidgets beside him.
The gentle caress of a warm breeze sets the leaves above in motion, casting dancing shadows upon their figures. A tranquil Sunday afternoon envelops them in a cocoon of nostalgia and tender emotions. Again, Minho wishes for more good days like these.
"The sky is so pretty at this time," Jisung, his head nestled upon Minho's shoulder, gazes into the distance while he whispers.
There is a tiny, soft scoff as a reply. "Jisung," Minho says, "you, yourself, are prettier than that sky, all of the time."
"Stop it."
Jisung goes for a smile, but his eyes fill with both affection and uncertainty. Minho can't detect this. The future looms before them, an expansive canvas awaiting their brushstrokes, and yet they are paralyzed by the weight of indecision and the haunting fear of missteps.
"Minho," Jisung's voice, soft as a whispered melody, breaks the temporary silence like a delicate note of anticipation. "Do you ever think about what the future holds for us?"
Minho feels a little confused at how sudden this question is. A sigh escapes his lips, his eyes fixed upon the distant horizon. It's as if he's searching for answers in the ethereal expanse. "Quite a lot, actually. Why?" Jisung sits up and leans his head on the oak behind him, hair being pushed upwards.
"I was just wondering. Because of the poem you wrote a few months back. 'The uncertainty wraps around me like a cloak, leaving me adrift, unsure of which path to tread. The map of life has faded, rendering me directionless.'" he quotes with a chuckle, "I may have analysed it a bit..."
"Don't quote it! God, that's embarrassing..." but Minho still beams. "Wait... you read my poems? That's cute, 'Sungie."
Jisung rolls his eyes and lightly hits his arm. "Don't direct it back onto me! I'm serious, hyung." His fingers trace gentle patterns upon Minho's palm, a tender reassurance woven within the touch. "I just— that's how I feel about the future, put into words. I don't know what we'll do in a couple years time."
"I hope everything will stay the same. How you'll still be just as adorable, and mine, of course. How we'll sit here every Sunday evening with you beside me, always. Can you promise me that at least, my love?"
Jisung blinks, head leaving the tree's surface, "Of course I can promise you that! I'm yours forever, and you're mine forever. Which is why..." he trails off.
"Which is why, what?"
Minho turns to face him, their eyes locking in a profound connection, as if the world fades into insignificance, leaving only the two of them within an intimate realm of vulnerability and understanding.
Jisung's voice brims with fervour, a spark of inspiration shimmering in his eyes. "Let's write a song together, Minho. Pour our emotions, hopes, and dreams into it. It could be an anthem of our love, a reflection of our journey together. No pressure, no expectations, just a creation born out of pure affection."
A furrow creases Minho's brow, hesitation clings to his every word, uncertain of his own ability to capture the profound essence of their shared existence. Doubts loom like shadows, threatening to overshadow the tender beauty of the moment.
"But Jisung," he responds, "my writing isn't that good and— I've never written lyrics before. What if I'm not good enough?"
There is a shake of the head from the latter. "Your writing is beautiful, Minho. I've never read anything like it, and you deserve so much recognition, lovely. But for now, I'll gatekeep. Plus, I write lyrics often! It's something for us to do together."
"But what if, on my part— what if I fail to capture the essence of what we have? It could ruin your hard work..."
Jisung's gaze softens, his thumb caressing Minho's cheek with a tenderness that speaks volumes. "Minho, perfection eludes us. The song will not be about success or failure; it'll be about expressing ourselves, leaving a piece of our hearts out for the hell of it. It's our journey encapsulated in melody and lyrics."
Love and uncertainty swell within Minho's heart, entwined like the ebb and flow of a bittersweet melody. Yet, he recognizes the earnestness glimmering within Jisung's eyes, and with a newfound determination, he nods.
"Okay— alright, let's do it. I want to do it, with you."
♩ ﹑ ≻ ⑅ ᵎ
Present time
As the taxi meanders through the bustling streets, Minho's consciousness gradually emerges from the vivid recesses of his mind. He worries his lip. This was not how he expected his week to go.
The once-distant memories fade, relinquishing their hold on his thoughts, and the stark reality of the present takes hold. Five long years have passed since the bittersweet end of his relationship with Jisung, their love story interrupted by the cruel hand of fate.
It once loomed ominously, poised to shatter their idyllic reverie and plunge them into an unforeseen future. And it did.
Regret tugs at Minho's heart when he recalls the events of the previous night— a stupid mistake, one that he could not blame on alcohol. But, what made it foolish still, was the pure fact that he did not recognise his own ex. And instead, took him to bed. A celebrity. A stranger. One who had shared his deepest affections in the past.
Their reunion, devoid of recognition, haunts Minho's every thought, compelling him to seek redemption.
Caught in the liminal space between hesitation and longing, Minho finds solace in the passing cityscape. The kaleidoscope of urban lights dances before his eyes, shimmering like fragments of forgotten memories. Does Jisung know? How would he react? Should he reach out to him? The questions reverberate through his mind, a delicate symphony of hope and trepidation.
The digits on a mere post-it note crumpled inside his pocket don't help.
He takes out his phone and sighs.
At first, he doesn't add his number straight away. Instead, he scrolls all the way down to the bottom of his messages, and taps on a specific one.
The last conversation comes into view.
Friday, 21st December 2018 19:46
jisung
hi
the company says we have to break up, its for my image
sp
so*
minho
what.
are you acc fucking serious rn
a breakup over text
after taking full credit for a song you barely even wrote
jisung
well yea
minho
you dont seem too bothered ab the break up
at all
do u even care ab me han
bc rn
im starting to think u used me for popularity
jisung
how tf could u say that about me
minho
lol well you CLEARLY dont give a shit, u told your fucking company that what we did together was all your work, and now your becoming unrighteously famous
i fucking loved you yk
jisung
well its not like we rlly talk anymore, sorry
minho
wow
i wonder whos fault that is
jisung
u sound really jealous rn lmfao
minho
oh my god im not fucking jealous im pissed off and upset and confused i dont know why you would suddenly do this
its like our relationship just didnt matter to you
i still fucking love you jisung
jisung
well
it was kinda dry anyway
minho
what
what the fuck
ykw
dont come running to me when it ruins you
cant believe i fell in love w your selfish ass
Minho didn't mean to read so much.
The messages, once etched in digital ink, now serve as painful reminders of a love lost and a heart shattered. With each swipe, he plunges deeper into the haunting depths of his past.
His breath catches in his throat as he reads the final exchange— the messages that tore his world apart. The words sting like acid, etching scars upon his soul even after all these years. Jisung's once-beloved name mocks him from the screen, a reminder of the heartbreak he endured.
The blunt hostility of Jisung's words reverberates in Minho's mind, each syllable like a dagger piercing his chest. The weight of rejection bears down upon him, the magnitude of their shared history reduced to a single, callous text message.
It was a blow that left him breathless, his world crumbling beneath the weight of his shattered dreams.
As the memories flood back, Minho is transported to that moment in time— when the walls closed in, and he crumbled beneath the weight of his pain. The room spun, his knees giving way, as he clutched his phone, desperate for an explanation that would never come. The echoes of his anguished cries haunt him still, echoing through the corridors of his heart.
He shouldn't cry. He couldn't cry. Not here, in a taxi, where he'd look so pathetic.
But they threaten to fall anyway. They mock like the awful goodbye of Han Jisung.
Tears cascade down Minho's face, each drop carrying with it the raw agony that consumed him then. How could love, once so radiant, be extinguished with such ruthless efficiency?
And, in the moment, this time, it is he who quietly quotes himself,
"Jisung. How could you say farewell so brutally? Did our love mean nothing? 'My wounds, though scarred over, remain tender to the touch, aching reminders of a love that was torn asunder. The pain you inflicted still lingers, a constant companion in the shadows of my heart.'"
✯
a/n: GIRLLLL i don't know if that was angsty or not, but if it was then it's my first proper time writing somet like that☝️☝️PLEASE LMK HOW IT IS LMFAOO
anyway its like almost 3am but i HAD to update today cause i'm seriously lacking and i swear down "keep you safe" will have its limelight eventually... yeah
i'm jus thinking about putting it on hold because its such a pain to write😞😞like i hate how i wrote the first bit so it puts me off plus lack of motivation, like i like the storyline BUT I THINK YOU GUYS WANT THESE STORIES INSTEAD YK? tell me fr ily.
EITHER WAYY, i'm gonna sleep so thank you so much for readingg, you all know i already love you mwah mwah <33