☆ ◜ * 𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕥 / 𝒃𝒐𝒚 !

one day,  he thinks he’ll finally tell wooseok how he despises every inch of his body,  his mind,  his essence.  he’ll tell him that when his eyes fall upon his,  something sick stirs inside his body,  growing in nature and uglier than he’d intended it to be.  it consumes him with quiet rage,  almost entirely directed at himself but it is red,  and it is hot,  and it engulfs all that makes him seungwoo.  

“cute,”  he says in response,  and amusement works through his eyes as he stares down at his best friend,  through his laugh as he huffs out something quiet.  his hands come down to cup wooseok’s cheeks,  both sides mirrored as he squishes them gently.  it doesn’t matter that the response might not reflect his true intentions in regards to what wooseok confessed,  the unbarring of feelings undiscussed.

he’ll say he hates him more than anything,  paired with with a tight lip and furrowed brows,  contrasting how eyes shine bright,  because the truth of the matter is far more delicate,  something infringing upon fragile,  as if it’ll break apart at the touch,  upon the simple acknowledgement it even exists.  love is a dangerous game,  and seungwoo feels like a puppet at wooseok’s mercy,  heart strings orchestrated by one whose gaze weighs down on him like a body of rocks in the ocean. 

instead,  replace hatred with the ardor of sentimentality he’s become accustomed to,  and take a step back as the puzzle pieces come together to say a little despondently,  that loving wooseok was red.

that day is clearly not today.

“funny though,  isn’t it?”  he asks,  with a clarity he’ll leave to analyze at a later date,  when his mind isn’t occupied by how he could lay here with wooseok in his arms till his limbs grew stiff and could furthermore recognize only the very shape of the other’s body,  “because you are my home.”  

he strokes wooseok’s hair slowly,  listening for the other’s breathing to slow down to welcome the slumber.  despite himself,  he kisses the top of the other’s head,  once,  twice,  then three times consecutively.  it’s never enough.

“wherever you go,  no matter how far,”  he starts,  voice soft but the intended cheer for faux lightheartedness is transparent,  though the words are heavier,  something closer to muted confessions,  “i’ll always follow you,  if you let me.”  

the request is twinged with a privilege he’s reluctant to look in the eyes  –  a request that would sound closer to a statement to the ears of a stranger.  seungwoo prides himself in knowing jinhyuk better,  recognizing the hesitance twinged in the other’s tone,  something resembling doubt shining through his expression.  seungwoo prides himself in knowing jinhyuk  –

but does he really know?

selfish is a term best used to describe seungwoo’s unconsciousness,   what defines the things and people he discards without a second contemplative thought,  the ignorance at the hurt he causes at the expense of believing he’s doing the right thing  –  seungwoo’s actions are inherently rooted in the very concept of selfishness.

“you’ll be fine without me,”  he says slowly,  smiling nevertheless.  the feeling is foreign on his face in this instance,  when a jolt of longing once forgotten stirs once more like a lover scorned.  

he feels inclined to believe jinhyuk has picked up on what he holds inside himself,  locked up in a box that has too many holes to count.  the emotion oozes out whenever he and jinhyuk share a gaze that feels an eternity long,  when he looks back on strawberry flavoured candy at the convenience store they used to frequent and wonders for the nth time what jinhyuk’s lips might taste like,  or any time over the last few years that have been virtually jinhyuk-less in nature and instead,  loss engulfs the space that his presence once used to  –  seungwoo would instead believe his friend would offer words delivered under sympathetic duress rather than want him,  need him,  where they sit and stand.

“you always are,  jinhyukie.”  his voice is softer than what he was going for,  eyes averting as his intended laughter come across as a mix between a sigh and disbelieving scoff despite himself. 

he thinks of home and all that waits,  any excuse tasting too expectant on his lips,  as he visibly hesitates at jinhyuk’s words.  he thinks of home and wonders for a moment if the very idea could be interchangeable with jinhyuk’s very being.  

wonderment,  sure,  but the thought simmers inside him,  a flame relit from the ashes of an unrequited romance that terrorized the organ in his chest for so long,  thirsty for the matter to be brought to the cognizance of the intended person.  he says he wonders,  but not too long ago,  during simpler times that feel as light as feathers in memories held dear,  he’d embraced the idea jinhyuk could embody the very essence of his home too easily when they were younger and times far less complicated than the present currently was. 

“but,”  he starts,  eyes wandering to meet jinhyuk’s,  something curious stirring in his gaze despite himself.  he’s a one-trick pony,  and so who would he be if not someone that inevitably gives jinhyuk his heart served on a silver platter,  even unasked.

seungwoo’s actions are inherently rooted within the very concept of selfishness  –  and jinhyuk is proof of that.

“i’ll stay as long as you need me to.”  the words are heavier than they should be,  something akin to a promise made under the stars with the midnight summer breeze as their witness  –  you’ll always have me,  jinhyuk.

no matter how the promise was perhaps broken years earlier despite it all;  now,  he’ll ignore past mistakes and broken vows,  and instead reach out for jinhyuk’s hand.  do you know?  he’ll ask later,  when silence befalls and he chokes upon love undiscussed,  do you know i need you more than you’ll ever know?