Paraluman ni Luna

You don’t want Yunho to stop being happy. You don’t want to see him sad, awkward, or disappointed. You always want to see his light bursting brightly wherever he goes; you always want to see him as blissed out as he could be because the best is just what he is, and what he truly deserves.

He stands in the center of the room, looking even more dashing in a suit, entertaining the people in the room with his funny little speech. His dad jokes still bring a grin to your face, and you put your hands together and clap as he finishes. Classical music replaces the sound of his voice, and you look back down onto your hands against the cream-colored table.

“You tired?” His voice rings next to your ear, making you jolt in your seat with the sudden feel of his breath on your skin. Wasn’t he just in the center of the grand ballroom, or were you staring into blank space for longer than you thought?

None of your thoughts seem to matter any longer, however, when Yunho slips into the seat beside you— placing his hand above yours before rubbing small circles against the back of your palm. 

You give him a lazy smile. “Mmhm. A bit.”

“Just a little bit more and you’ll get to rest, I promise,” He says, and you trust him. 

You trust that this will be over soon and you’ll get to plop yourself back onto your sheets and sleep this all away.

It’s quiet for a bit, though it’s everything but awkward. This is probably one of the things you love when spending time with Yunho. As much as he’s bubbly, happy, and a little bit crazy, the silence that you share on calmer times is as equally comfortable as when you’re both feeling rowdy. Though, Yunho’s fidgeting isn’t as quiet at the moment, and you take notice of the way his leg is bouncing quickly, and how he’s probably itching to tell you something.

“Do you still hate me?” 

So he speaks.

“For what?”

“For leaving.”

A snort escapes your lips, and you try to appear collected. Though, Yunho is making it very hard to pretend to be when he’s looking at you with his big, genuine, seriously curious eyes— and he’s not waiting around for nothing.

He really wants a solid answer.

“You’re here now, should I have any reason to hate you?”

“Well, I was a jerk,” He chuckles, one hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Do you, um, still wanna know what I originally wanted to say that day, though?”

You turn in your seat to face him and cock your head to the side with a chuckle, your gown scratching against the white seat. “Oh, we’re getting there, aren’t we now?” 

“I was going to ask you to be mine.”

He interrupts, in a rush to get the words out of his mouth.

“You know… stop all the best friend bullshit,” He sighs, eyes moving around though he’s in a daze, as if trying to vividly remember what had happened several years prior. “Because… had you said yes then, I wouldn’t have left. I would’ve pursued education with you in our Dream Uni.” 

Yunho chuckes, shaking his head, before speaking in a softer voice, “But I let my emotions take the best of my control, and now I feel like a complete fucking idiot.”

“Well, I wasn’t entirely smart either,” You ruffle his hair, and he leans closer into the familiar warmth of your touch. “If only I knew that day was the last time I’d get to see you, to hear your voice, to touch you…”

You trail off, eyes taking in every inch of his face, the glow of his supple skin…

“What would you do?” Yunho asks, orbs glimmering with curiosity below the glow of the amber lights. “What would you have done?”

He notices the way your downcast lashes flutter against the skin of your cheek as you look down, taking a moment to compose yourself before looking back up at him with a smile. 

He refuses to search the depths of your eyes.

“I would’ve held you so tight so that you wouldn’t have to leave me ever,” You whisper, the underlying quiver on your voice barely hidden by the softness of it. “Because that was really all I ever wanted.”

It’s silent again, and while it’s not uncomfortable, there is a certain tension that doesn’t allow you to speak up as quickly as you wanted to. So, with your voice failing you, you force a giggle and wave a dismissive hand in the air.

“Now that we’re talking about it, I feel all the more stupid. That was very… silly of us,” Yunho chuckles, and he pats the top of your head twice. “But seeing as though we’re here together again today… that wasn’t really the last time we saw each other, yeah?”

You stare into his hopeful orbs, nodding with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah.”

Silence, again, for a few more seconds, before his lips visibly tug into a slow, growing smile.

“Can I still get my long overdue hug, though?” He asks, making you burst into a fit of giggles, shaking your head at him before murmuring a faint, “C’mere.”

Instantly, he’s leaning in, large hands gentle against your back as he tugs you closer to his body. You inhale his familiar, homey, scent; and you feel the urge to curl your fingers against his soft locks from behind his neck up.

The memories of what once was the past come flooding back to you as if they were only yesterday, the warmth of being in Yunho’s arms bringing a sense of comfortable nostalgia to creep into every crevice of your body. 

You remember how it used to feel when you’d sit on his lap with your arm around his shoulders, nuzzling your cheek against his before playfully biting his skin, until he’d crack a smile and his eyes would turn into little half-moons.

You remember how it used to feel when you’d fight and he’d pull you in, whispering sweet little nothings into your ear until you’re both calm and sorry, and leaning against each other in complete comfortable silence.

You remember how, that one rainy day when you walked together with hearts beating at the same pace for the last time, your hands refused to hold each other despite needing comfort beneath the cold.

—How, during that one moment, you could’ve made him stay and not go through several years of winter without his warming presence; how you could’ve held his hand instead of hopelessly brushing your fingertips against the cold train glass just to reach for the hands you never got to hold close to you, but want to.

As he pulls away from the hug, you feel it again; the cold, the frosty breeze, the long winter days; and when he locks eyes with you, you wish you could pull him in again.

But you don’t, just like you did seven years ago, letting him slip away from you until you couldn’t feel him any longer.

The fond look in his eyes feels like a kick to the stomach.

“Thanks,” He says softly, giving you a lop-sided grin as he stands from his seat, the legs of his chair screeching softly against the tiles.

You give him a soft pat on the arm, “Best wishes, Yun.” 

Jeong Yunho is someone who, in hindsight, you have spent almost the entirety of your life with. You’ve been friends since the moment you were pushed out of your mothers’ stomachs, growing together and going through the ups and downs of life together from toddlership to the present when you’ve already gotten degrees and had become corporate slaves, and that should be enough.

But as you watch his figure retreating back to the center of the room to sit with his very own bride— the woman who will get to hold him for the rest of her life, you finally realize that it isn’t.

He wasn’t just your best friend. He wasn’t just somebody you wanted to get to know better.

Jeong Yunho is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. 

You want to continue discovering more of the world with him. You want to hold him on his worst days, yell with him on his best ones; you want to watch cheesy romantic movies with him, you want to do skincare with him, travel with him, grow with him until you’re gray and old and could barely move a single muscle without breaking a bone.

You want it all with him— your firsts and your lasts.

But you couldn’t.

Not any longer.

You loathe all the words that were choked high up your throat but never got to find their way out. You loathe all of the moments that you took for granted just because you’d expected him to choose you until the end. 

You loathe the thought of the love that could’ve happened, but never will.

You loathe all of them, but not Yunho.

Never Jeong Yunho.