#himup angst

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

It’s been a minute since I’ve updated this one. Not gonna lie, I was thinking about abandoning it, but with recent events, I’m feeling terribly morbid/solemn, so I kinda needed an outlet for the feels going on right now and didn’t like how deep/depression things were turning out as I was writing the next part of Shiver in this mood. That being said, I do have something pretty dern fluffy in the works for the near future. Don’t give up on me yet! I swear I’m not always a grey cloud. Anyway, here is finally Part 4 [: Sorry it’s so short... I was more or less just getting some feels out.

Returning home felt like walking into a prison. Jongup was shackled by the memories held within the walls. But when had the apartment become so cold, so dark, so lifeless? What once was a safe haven, a comforting place to return to at the end of each day only brought more misery to him. Everywhere he looked, he saw the ghosts of the couple that once lived there. Once so happy and so in love. Now, they were just images of the past that haunted the quaint home.

Slipping off his shoes at the door, Jongup momentarily stared down at his black polished shoes that sat beside the sneakers Himchan had left there, never to be worn again. Slowly, he moved into the apartment where his eyes scanned over the living area and the loneliness sunk even deeper. Reading glasses that would never again adorn that beautiful face, a collection of dramas and romantic comedies that would never again earn that deep, hearty chuckle, throw blankets that would never again stir playful wrestle matches because they weren’t big enough to cover the both of them. It all seemed so useless now. Jongup didn’t need any of it. He didn’t want any of it, but he sure as hell couldn’t part with a single item either. How could he throw out those fashion magazines before Himchan even got the chance to read them? How could he give away the ridiculous amount of wine bottles that were waiting to be shared on a special occasion? How was he supposed to part with the ridiculous amounts of colognes that all smelled of his lover in one way or another?

But how could he hold onto any of it when it all was just a reminder of how alone he was?

Releasing a deep sigh, the broken man frowned at the image of his fiance standing across the room at him. The concern on his face, the way the singer’s eyes silently begged for Jongup to be okay only made him feel all the more not because once he blinked, that man was gone and he was left with nothing but his slipping sanity. Over the past few days, he had gotten so used to seeing glimpses of Himchan and momentarily coming back to life himself as a shock of hope coursed through him only to be beaten down again when reality returned and Himchan disappeared all over again. That hope had quickly turned to anger at the cruelty of it all. But now, it only exhausted him further. Jongup had no energy left for emotion. He was worn out and fraying at the edges.

With little conscious thought of his actions, Jongup shuffled to the bedroom. Again, he halted as he entered the familiar room that had become foreign to him. The bed seemed so much larger now that it was only him to occupy it. The decor that he once found comforting, relaxing only proved to disgust him now as it was just another thing to remind him of everything he lost. This whole place was meant for Himchan and the Jongup he had once been. The Jongup he was with Himchan. The person that he was now, the empty shell of who he once was, didn’t belong here. He was an intruder in this place a once happy couple called home and his presence was disturbing to the memories and dreams this quaint place held.

Still, he had nowhere else to go. He refused to be a burden to those around him. He couldn’t stand the pity they all looked at him with. Their concern only proved to remind him of how broken he was. Of course, they meant well and cared for him, but like hell he was going to drag them down with his sorry self. At least alone in this hell, he didn’t have to pretend to be coping. He didn’t have to display his grief when really he was turning to stone from the inside out. At least here, he could succumb to the numbness and not have to pretend to be alright. Because he wasn’t alright; he was the furthest thing from alright and there was nothing anyone could say or do to make that better. Perhaps in time, he may be able to heal and scar from this, but for the time being, he just needed to learn how to live without Himchan. He needed to learn how to go on. And he needed to do that alone.

Himchan closed his eyes and ran a stressed hand through his hair. He hated this. He hated watching the man he loved more than anything fall apart. He hated being the reason for his suffering. Jongup needed him now more than ever and all he could do was silently watch as the young man slowly died inside. So desperately he wanted to hold him, to assure him that everything would be alright, to wipe away the circles growing under those precious, dark eyes. It was absolutely heart wrenching to watch him have to go through this and though their time spent together meant everything to Himchan, he wished nothing more than to take it all back just so Jongup wouldn’t have to face this kind of pain.

‘To have loved and lost is better than to not have loved at all?’ Has anyone that spoken those words lost a love like this? Would Jongup agree with such a statement? It broke his heart to think such, but Himchan wondered if the younger man would be better off now had they never confessed their feelings. If it would have spared Jongup of this kind of pain, he would take it all back in a heartbeat. As much as he had cherished each and every second he had with that man, he would give it all up if it meant that the other wouldn’t have to know this suffering, this loneliness.

Silently following Jongup to the bedroom, Himchan gave a solemn sigh as he watched the younger male curl on top of the covers still clad in his damp suit. “You’re going to wrinkle your suit and catch a cold if you don’t change,” he spoke, sitting on the bed beside the dancer. His frown deepened at the way the bed didn’t dip under his weight. What he wouldn’t give for just a minute longer with him. Just a single minute to let him know that he wasn’t alone and would never be alone. At the same time, Himchan wondered if staying was actually breaking his lover even more. He had seen those brief flashes of life in his eyes when they fell on him. He knew Jongup caught a glimpse of him every now and then. And he’d be damned if he said it didn’t momentarily make his ghostly heart race each time they met eyes. But then the moment would pass and he’d have to watch his lover falter back into reality once more. 

Still, how was he suppose to leave him, especially now? How could he move on knowing he was leaving his lover in pieces? How could anything in that light be a comfort when he’d know that Jongup needed that comfort so much more than himself? 

Staring down at the man he loved so damn much, he couldn’t help but wonder why the fates would do something so cruel? Why were they being punished? Why Jongup? He wondered if it would be any better if they traded places. He would happily take that pain and loneliness so the younger man wouldn’t have to, but would it be any better if that meant that beautiful man’s life would be taken as well? Was it better to have to endure that pain and be alive? Himchan much prefered the outcome of the crash; he would give up his life a thousand times over if that meant Jongup would get to continue his. But watching the pain that he endured through surviving alone…

Three days passed and Himchan torturously watched as his love hardly moved in that time. Aside from the occasional trip to the bathroom, all of Jongup’s time was spent in what was once their bed. He lifelessly laid about and stared at the ceiling or the walls. Each time the phone would buzz to signal another friend or family member checking in to make sure he was alright, a deep sigh would expel from him as if his busy thoughts were inconveniently disrupted. But Himchan knew the truth. He saw the way the depressed man would flinch every time he picked up the old, shattered phone that once belonged to him. He saw the heartbreak wash over the younger male every time he looked at the happy couple smiling at him on the lockscreen. “You need to get up and get a new phone,” he spoke after witnessing Jongup once again frown at the phone as another person attempted to reach him. The younger man sighed and sat up, shaking his head. “I don’t need anything,” he growled out. Himchan’s eyes widened as he was seemingly answered before realizing that the other was simply voicing his frustration over yet another text telling him to contact them if he needs anything.

Closing the message, Jongup sat in his wrinkled suit pants, the shirt and jacket discarded on the floor sometime during the second day of his solitude. He stared at the wallpaper - another selfie of the couple. Himchan smiled brightly from the phone’s cracked screen as Jongup stood next to him with a lopsided smirk, holding up a peace sign. He ran his thumb over the image, staring at the man he still loved so desperately. “I just need you.”