#chohee-hr

Jiyong's fingers traced over the black edges of ink embedded into his skin, lazily tracing the figure 8 that was now permanently burned into his flesh. An infinity symbol – a symbol of infinite, everlasting friendship, Jiyong supposed. He could easily recall the few days beforehand when he and Chohee had ventured into a tattoo parlor, the idea to have a matching tattoo fresh on their minds. A positive reminder that they would always be friends, that no matter what, they would be together in some form.

Chohee was Jiyong's best friend. She always had been, ever since they'd met as kids in an orphanage years upon years ago. It had only been within the past few years that the strength of their friendship had dwindled. Chohee had been fortunate enough to be adopted a few years ago and her being in London now was only for the sake of seeing Jiyong off because likewise, an unfortunate yet positive couple had decided to take him in. It was their unmitigated mistake, he figured, but he digressed. Jiyong didn't want to dwell on anything, not with Chohee standing right in front him.

She had been talking, though Jiyong didn't know what about and for a brief moment, he cursed himself for not paying attention when there were tears in her eyes, for being predominantly stuck in his own head. If he were honest, Jiyong would say that seeing Chohee again hurt. It left a bittersweet, concaving feeling in his stomach and chest. Things were different now than when they were younger, Chohee was different in her own right, and Jiyong was progressively losing his hold on reality. He never told her about his black outs or night terrors, not even in the various letters they'd shared through out their years absent of each other's presence. Chohee didn't need to know. No one did; and Jiyong wouldn't have wished such worries on her for the world anyway.

Fighting the gnawing burn in the pit of his stomach, Jiyong raised a hand up to Chohee's face, the pad of his thumb coming to wipe a fallen tear from her cheek. Cupping her face, he leaned in to press a tender kiss against her forehead, eyes falling closed as he forced back the suffocating lump that persisted in the back of his throat. “Shh.” Jiyong cooed softly, withdrawing from Chohee somewhat in order to gain a better look at her. There were still tears filling her eyes, but the soft smile on her lips soothed him slightly.

“It's just for a little while. You can always come back, yeah? And maybe I'll visit New York. You can show me everything I'll be missing here in London. And besides, “ Jiyong forced a small smile to his own lips then, albeit a weak one that seemed more pained around the edges than anything else. He didn't really want Chohee to go back to New York, to leave him in London alone again, but they were already at the airport with her plane ready to be boarded and they were kids, Chohee had her own life in front of her. Even still, knowing that, Jiyong couldn't quite push back the stinging tears in the corners of his own eyes, “We can always keep writing each other. Phone calls every day, yeah?”