thereâs a difference between cause and effect in every relationship, even the fucked-up, half-of-nothing relationships like the one seunghyun has found himself strangely bound in with the other male. one person can say something or do something with certain intents, but that might not transfer over well to the other party, and whoâs fault that is, is always up in the air, but seunghyunâs opinion is that it lies with the first category. if you say something to someone else and they take it wrongly, you are at fault for not expressing yourself clearlyâthis is what he believes.
sehun saying he hadnât tried to hurt seunghyun means almost nothing to him, given that trying for something like that is unnecessary. he just didâit just hurt, and whether sehun hadnât meant for that or not is irrelevant. seunghyunâs face squints a moment as he listens to the other, as his eyes darken and he tilts his head. he has to ignore the way sehunâs body is leaning back alluringly against that door, has to ignore the way his lips feel dry and needy in such close, private proximity like this. every nerve in his body feels like itâs burning, but not just anger; sadness, need, longing. now that theyâre alone seunghyun feels his heart contract with every beat, and he wants to rip it out of himself.
after another moment, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, brings up the messages heâs sent to sehun, without any replies back. âsehun, i havenât seen you in a while, wanna go for coffee. sehun, sooyoung is terrifying and might be trying to kill me, i need help. sehun, iâm really weak right now and i need you, are you there.â he reads them off like a list, taking small steps closer to the other with each unanswered text. âsehun, how are you? havenât seen you in a while. sehun, iâm really worried about you, please message me back. did i do something wrong. are you angry at me. can you please talk to me. can you please answer your phone. why are you ignoring me, did i do something wrong.â
he stops finally and looks up at the other in the dimmed bathroom lightning, ugly shadows across both of them, heartbreak pounding in his chest. âwhat exactly were you trying to do then?â he presses his lips together and shakes his head, putting his phone back away. âno, thatâs not good enough. what, did your phone break or something? i spent months thinking you hated me, you couldnât find a second to catch anybody elseâs cell to just let me know you were at least alive? itâs not like i have the freedom to come over to your place to meet you, you know. god, iâŚâ he feels his nose start to sting and he fucking hates himself. âi missed you, asshole.â
he sighs when sehun says sorry, knows itâs not an easy thing for him to say, but he has to turn his head and look away to the wall, lick his lips, and will his frustration down. he wants to forgive him but heâd feel like such a walkover. where is the middle ground?
Sehun tries not to care about very much. And most of the time, he succeeds, he's able to scoff or roll his eyes at everything and successfully not care and not be bothered. But it isn't that way with Seunghyun, and it hasn't been for a long time, as much as he wants to convince himself otherwise. If it were anyone else he could say they were being melodramatic or that they should be grateful he's talking to them at all. But this is Seunghyun, looking beautiful and angry and something about seeing him hurt and pissed off is alluring in such a confined space.
His chest aches as Seunghyun reads the texts to him, all the words that he had never seen and the pleas that had fallen in his absence. His eyes stung a little as every word punctured him, of the hurt and need he knew was in those messages. He would not cry, but he has to take a deep breath to compose himself. His gaze remains transfixed on Seunghyun, watching the pain flit across his handsome face. âI never got those messages, Seunghyun...â he defends, though his voice sounds particularly quiet in the bathroom.
He can't blame Seunghyun for being angry, he can understand the hurt. And part of him wants to let him be hurt, because maybe now is the time he can finally walk away and end whatever ridiculous game they've been playing. But mostly, he knows he won't, knows he can't because there's an impossible pull toward him. Sehun licks his lips, and against his better judgment, he reaches out, letting a hand caress Seunghyun's face.
âI am sorry. I couldn't contact you because...nobody had a cell phone,â he breathes out a sigh. The last thing in the world he wants is to tell him, to tell anyone, but he doesn't see any other way. If he says his phone had broken, Seunghyun would see right through it because his family could just buy a new one the same day. âI was in...rehab. Okay? I didn't just avoid you, I wasn't mad at you. But...I was in rehab...I had a drug problem. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...â he says, and there's an ache in his voice that sounds like weakness. Itâs scary to admit it. âI missed you too, baby...can you forgive me?â