#type shi

his family noticed he was off by the way his eyebrows furrowed more often in the mornings. his sister commented on his unusually broody mood one morning, before dropping him off at school. “spending too much time on that phone, huh?” she chuckled, but the lack of a reaction made her throat clear wryly. “crickets….” she muttered, as martin slammed the car’s door without even bothering to reply. yn skipped the entire week after her incident last week, and martin became so anxious he practically shut down. how was he supposed to react? the last time he saw her, she had those tubes strewn across her frail body — while the nurses practically hovered outside the door. he had no way of checking on her, so he was stuck in his own head wandering what she could possibly be doing.

she just came back into his life, and he’ll be damned if he lets her go that easily.

she didn’t intend on staying home the whole week. but it started so easily, she actually felt refreshed after her long-overdue rest in the hospital. that freeing feeling lasted about a day. instead, it was replaced by pure, unrestrained dread. and soon again, her body began to crumble under an imaginary force. the ungodly creature that forced its stygian shadows to coat the walls of her bedroom was making its presence known. she muttered something defiant, like “go away,” but the with the way her voice shook, it was enough to make the creature tick in amusement, like it wasn't affected in the slightest. if anything, it fed on her nervousness. without much warning, the atmosphere became almost hellish. the sun hid behind the clouds like it’s own safety was compromised, and the floor under her shaky feet turned inky black. yn was convinced that it would open to an endless void at any moment. her eyes squeezed shut to protect herself from seeing what was wrapping around her leg, and squeezing her lungs with more force than she was used to. with a ragged exhale, she tried thinking of more vivid memories to distract herself from the impending sense of panic. not memories of her breathing tubes being tied in knots at the hand of the creature - ones that were coated in rosy hues and filtered sunlight. ones with juhoon. the first memory that came to mind was made a couple years ago:

she had finally received a bicycle for her birthday. it was minty-teal, with one of those (completely useless), plastic baskets attached to the handlebars. juhoon had subtly dropped hints about wanting to go biking through the local park together. maybe ‘subtly’ was the wrong choice of words. he had nagged her for the 3 weeks leading up to her birthday to “please ask for a bike.” and that’s how they ended up riding across the local overgrown footbridges in the afternoon sun. there was a small lake at the centre of the park they frequented during the day. now, as the sun hovered over the horizon lazily, the water glistened under the soft, pink sky dreamily. the water reflected all of its purple-ish blues too, and they danced over the gentle waves that lapped at the shore. she managed to snap a photo of juhoon standing beside his respective bike, with his back facing the camera and his hand midway through brushing his hair off his forehead. the diffused, golden light draped over him from behind, as he was completely distracted by the family of ducks swimming in the distance.

a light, airy laugh tumbled out of her mouth the moment she was caught. he didn’t say anything, he just flashed her a suspicious look as a smirk pulled the corner of his mouth up. she was still giggling as she made her way over to him. juhoon met her halfway and soon, yn was pulled into a tight embrace that smelt like warm vanilla and familiarity - and the sour candy he snuck into his jacket’s pocket. she laughed until she was breathless and he couldn't deny the stupid grin that rested on his face, because this was the most comfortable she had ever been with him. little did yn know, this was the last memory that flashed before him in his last moments.

as if a spell was broken over the cursed land- the air around her stopped buzzing so furiously and the saturation returned to a normal hue as she came back to reality. her vision took a while to return, but she managed to watch as the creature clicked in frustration as it seeped back into her floorboards - where it laid dormant in hopes to attack again when she was vulnerable.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||၊|• back at school

martin trudged through the school’s dim hallway with his hoodie hiding his messy, blonde hair. his beaten-dc’s dragged across the tiles with each, dreading step. occasionally the rubber soles would squeak uncomfortably, but it wasn’t like he heard it over the music playing in his ears anyway. it was his usual playlist, only a little louder, like he was subconsciously trying to distract himself from his worried thoughts. as he approached his locker, his hazel eyes fixed on the open door beside it. his eyebrows twitched up, with a relieved sigh falling from his lips as his steps quickened. immediately, it was like colour was allowed to register in his brain, as he noticed the morning sun paint the white walls with its colour. as she lightly closed her locker, she was stunned with a familiar grin. he noticeably startled her, and he murmurs a brief apology before greeting her with newly-softened eyes.

“how are you…. feeling?” he asked, sounding more concerned with her wellbeing than she was. his sincerity caught her off guard a little. she brushed a hand through her hair as if it could collect her thoughts for her. should she tell him the truth? or just brush him off with a polite smile and an easy lie? she was leaning towards the latter, but the way he was already leaning into the metal of his locker’s door made her strangely comfortable enough to just tell him.

“i can’t say i’m good, yet..” she admitted, “but, i’m better. the doctor said my body was just… taking advantage of the sleep.” she nodded, dodging his eye contact as she spoke. they both knew that there was a little more to it, but he was perfectly satisfied with the fact the she’s breathing. she opened her mouth to hastily thank him for staying by her in the hospital, but she just couldn’t get over the sense of shame it brought her. it wasn’t the fact that she was ashamed of him, it was the fact that: a boy she hadn’t bothered to recognise, saw her in such a state most of her family and friends never had. and, that the same boy went out of his way to make sure she was okay, but she never once did the same throughout the years of separation. she knew it was silly to blame herself for not keeping in touch - since they were both so young when he left. so, when he offered to tutor her a couple days later, she felt obligated to say yes. even though she was already promised a passing grade, she told herself that she needed to earn it, just like everyone else.

martin told her to meet him in the library after last period concluded. a little part of him lit up in surprise when he saw her actually wander through the door and sit in the chair opposite of him. he noticed that her eyes were tinged with red, and he would’ve checked in with her - if she didn’t beat him in asking: “so, what’s first?” he hesitantly put it off for now, so he could start going through his notes. martin was a good student. maybe even a great one. his homework was always turned in on time, he’d get A’s on every report card, not to mention, the all the staff loved him .... which was why it was so surprising when he turned out to be an abysmal teacher. he’d confuse the both of them with his explanations. sometimes he’d chuckle to himself nervously, before backtracking desperately. and yes, it was annoying at first, but she couldn’t help but find his blabbering somewhat endearing. the first session was rocky at best, but she felt a spark light in her. just a little one - enough to motivate her to start showing up on time.

yn felt a small weight lift off her chest, with the (adequate) help of martin. even though sometimes it seemed like he had zero confidence in his explanations of trigonometry, she slowly started to remember what all the numbers and symbols meant. every step, he asked if she was doing okay. most of the time, he’d be referring to the distant glint in her eye, but she’d answer regarding her progress on the question she was working through. with the next couple sessions that filled the rest of the week, martin started putting more effort into his notes for her. he even began printing worksheets for her - and embellishing the corners with his signature graffiti-style handwriting. in retrospect, it wasn’t a lot of change, but the additional effort meant more to her than he realised.

after class about a week later, yn stopped by her locker to rummage through her pencil case - looking for nothing in particular, when she heard a jingle of a belt chain approaching.

“hey,” martin called out softly as he leaned on his own locker, watching her with a quiet smile. she greeted him in return with a nod, before he offered his phone to her: “d’you think i could get your number? just so that we can… plan our study sessions out?” he suggested gently - his voice always seemed to lower whenever he spoke to her — not that she ever noticed. without further excuses, she extended her hand out to grab the phone from him, nodding slightly. she didn’t even notice the grin tugging on the corner of her mouth, until she caught a glimpse of it in the phone’s reflective screen. she almost forgot what it looked like. what it felt like. martin caught the end of it, mentally taking a photo of it to keep in the forefront of his mind before she forced it off her face with a saddening pace. after testing the new numbers with success, she left with the promise that she’d text him when she got home. in the moment, it was an easy thing that rolled off her tongue. but in practice, it was forgotten entirely in her preoccupied mind.

her mind was so busy that night with the simple question: how could a simple action light up her day so easily? his gentleness made her … nervous? it was a light, fluttery feeling that brushed through her stomach and crept up her neck - until she spoiled it for herself as usual. she was still shackled to juhoon. or just the thought of him. she never allowed herself feel happy, like it was disrespectful to him. like the thing would come back and punish her for feeling something he could never feel again. she could already feel it’s talons crack around her throat, as the tears burned her eyes … like the fire that burned in juhoon’s fireplace every winter. she wondered when if it would ever end, if peace and happiness were real things she could feel.

on the other side of the city, martin laid awake, staring at the empty inbox on his phone, (not so) patiently awaiting a text from her. the text never came. at least, not in the couple of hours he spent checking his phone. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment in his chest. “what am i doing?” he questioned himself out loud, as he tossed his phone onto the the table beside him with a clatter. his hands dragged down his face as he reflected on his borderline-obsessive actions. it’s been just-over a couple weeks since the hospital incident, but for some reason, he was still overly gentle and observant — to the point where his voice permanently maintained that same softness whenever she was around. he didn’t want his worry to come off as pity, because he cared.

another week came and left, they studied, she cried - the usual.

the weekend made time feel too empty, especially with her parents off doing more important things. yn was confronted by the sense of loneliness she had been shrugging off for the past couple ours. and while the afternoon sun cast a soft, pink glow over her room, she was slumped over by the pile of letters that had accumulated by her bed. it was almost up to her waist; some were soaked in her tears, some were crumpled from the nights she’d written for so long that she fell asleep onto of them and crushed the fragile paper. she wrote one short note to juhoon about a month after he passed, but now she writes every time she felt that uneasy feeling creeping up on her - which soon became several times a day. with a sniffle, her fingers reached for the one sitting sadly on the top of the pile. already, her eyebrows clashed together, just reading the contents of it:

dear ju,

i know you’ll never see this letter, yet i’m still here writing it. i haven’t been the same since you passed. i miss you. oh, my sweet juhoon, i miss you so much that it physically hurts. there’s so much i want to tell you. there’s so much i wish i knew about you. i’m still trying to accept the fact you ran out of time to teach me in this life. it all just feels like some sort of dream i can’t escape. i cant even think clearly anymore, because it’s always watching me, no matter what i do. it’s turning you against me. i know it’s not really you. at least, i hope. martin tries so hard to make me feel comfortable, i’m sure he knows everything — but i can still see that flicker of fear in his eyes whenever it takes over. i really don’t know how to stop it, and sometimes acceptance feels like a cruel joke, but if i ever figure it out, i’ll come back for you. to make things better. i promise.

yours, forever, in this life and the next,

yn

the paper crumpled slightly where her fingers curled into it, and her head soon fell back with a reverent sigh. she covered her eyes with the back of her other hand as she let out a sob that rattled her throat.

god, she was so pitiful. she hated that she was in this position in the first place, and everyday she craved the sweet relief of an empty mind and a clear conscience.

maybe she was closer to it than she realised.

martin shot her a text after school the next morning. he couldn’t stay after school, but maybe, they could take study to his house. she blinked a couple times, making sure she read it correctly. her fingers dashed across the screen with any update she thought he’d need:

just left home… 5 minutes away… walking up your driveway.

she knocked on the door. once. twice. another couple times. was it obvious that she was jittery? maybe just a tad. it didn’t help that martin missed her nervous knocking over the music in his ears. after what could’ve been days (about two minutes), he finally opened the door. as if it was a natural reflex, a wide smile stretched across his face as soon as their eyes met. she greeted him with a prompt nod, not trusting her voice enough to say anything.

martin’s home was almost exactly how she pictured it: warm and slightly cluttered, but never messy. as he scurried into the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water, she studied the family photos that stood proudly on the mantle for a while - just like any sensible person would. all she could focus on was the fact that his smile had never changed, not even after all these years. she felt almost sentimental. like his smile was slowly becoming a treasured feature in her mind.

his voice pulled her out of her thoughts, “what’s going on in there?” he huffed in amusement, as he poked the side of her head. yn’s eyes snap towards him, suddenly embarrassed that she’d just gotten caught. a quiet “..nothing!” stumbled out of her mouth, before she quickly redirected the conversation to the studying they were supposed to be doing. he pretended to brush it off as she kept talking, but he caught a glimpse of that twinkle in her eye before she hid her face.

martin set the glass of water on his desk, and they began on the easy topics. his pen glided over the paper calmly (even if he was everything but calm on the inside). and as they settled into a quiet rhythm, it became the only other sound, save for his playlist humming out of his phone’s speakers. martin didn’t necessarily need to tutor her in that moment because it was more like revision for her. still, he couldn’t help but scan over her progress every few minutes. you know, just to make sure she wasn’t stuck. it wasn’t because he just liked seeing her eyebrows furrow when she was equating the numbers in her head … or anything. thankfully, she never noticed him staring, at least that’s what he thought. first, he seemed way too quiet for everything to be normal. she managed to sneak a couple of sideways-glances to see what he was doing. and just when she was on her fourth peek - he was already watching her. her eyelids burst open, before she turned back to her work, pretending absolutely nothing happened. martin probably did the exact same, because the silence continued to nestle in the corners of his bedroom uncomfortably. yn still had an entire page left to complete, but she was frozen in place like she became a concrete statue. her leg couldn’t even twitch away when his accidentally brushed hers, it just made her face grow warmer with each passing second.

yn shifted in the chair next to him after a while of tedious work (and silent panicking). it practically set off a chain reaction, as martin took the chance to stretch his arms behind him with a sigh. finally, it felt like the uncomfortable stillness in the air was clearing — probably because they were both too exhausted to keep it up. “i’m so done with this,” yn whispered, evidently craving something more entertaining. martin fought back a chuckle, as he nodded in agreement.

his forehead crinkled as an idea popped into his head. clicking the computer awake, his hands moved towards the keyboard in front of him, like he was being controlled by a divine force. his hands moved eagerly, clicking the mouse aggressively and making yn’s eyebrow twitch up. “y’know, i’ve been working on something,” martin announced proudly, as he clicked onto what looked like some sort of music production app. that would probably explain the miscellaneous electronics kicking around his room - more notably, his jet black and red electric guitar sitting next to his bed. “how did i miss that you were so into music?” yn breathed out with a perplexed expression. “never came up..” martin shrugged in a reply. soon, a smooth sound rumbled in his speakers. she nodded along, her mouth still slightly agape. it was mellow, yet it still had a sense of vibrancy in its bass-line. then his vocals hit her ears. honey. and that was the only word she could come up with to describe it. the lyrics weren’t half-baked either. they were poetic and personal, but delivered in a way that they’d be hard to notice on the first listen. it was so him, she thought. “you did this yourself?” she watched the screen in awe, until her eyes caught a flicker of pride in his eyes as he answered with a hum. “you like it?” he asked, already guessing her answer sheerly by the look on her face. “it’s alright,” she lied with a shrug - but the amused huff that followed gave her away. the song was really nothing revolutionary in hindsight, but to her it was special. her approval simmered in his heart, and he bit back a smug grin (but failed). safe to say that the next several study sessions stayed at martin’s house - with the expectation that it would finish with his music vibrating in the speakers.

with every afternoon session, they grew closer - even if they weren't always chatting.

in the lost hours of one not-so-productive-study hangout, martin showed her a couple lyrics he had been working on. they were more thought-out and stood out against his usual laid-back freestyles. her interest piqued on one line: you've got more of my own heart than i got. in the moment, she didn't take them too seriously ... until she just happened to glance at him. for the first time in about thirty minutes, the mischievous smirk faltered slightly. like there were words in his head, but his mouth refused to sound them out. it was only a short second, and soon his lips snapped back into their natural curve.

"...why do you always look so smug for," she comments sarcastically, but her words lack bite and it just makes his smirk deepen.

finals week came and went with surprising ease - but that didn’t mean it left yn with a comfortable sense of accomplishment just yet.

martin swiftly took the role of her therapist … unbeknownst to him. she spent every afternoon talking his ear off. she’d start off with her worries of getting a low score (even though it’s been well established that she would not), which would turn into old friendship drama, then -where it always ended- how she'd spend every second with juhoon. as much as it would’ve rattled someone else, martin never judged her. only, he'd silently file away all the information to compare himself to it later. because there was an unshakeable feeling, that he could never live up to juhoon's legacy. the boy was just so naturally quiet and gentle, while martin saw himself as the complete opposite. still, he let her rant for hours on end, because it meant he could ramble in return. and that meant more to him than he was ready to recognise.

----

yn woke up in a cold sweat at the mere thought of the results being released later that morning.

before she could spiral completely, she rushed over to the school’s pinboard (after stalking the office lady who hung it up). her hand clasped over her mouth as soon as she saw her name a couple places from the top. in fact, she was just one spot above martin. she stared in disbelief until she heard excited shouting behind her. yn didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. but as she did anyway, she saw martin barrelling towards her with his arms wide open and his grin wider. she huffs out a laugh before accepting her fate and meeting him halfway. martin practically pounced on her, almost knocking her over. “i'm seventh from the top,” she added as she stumbled back from impact. “i’m so proud. i’ve never been so proud.” he announced, his voice coming out muffled in her hair. it was more than a rank. it was a testament to what she could achieve even after less-than-optimal situation. she had lost so much that year, but - as she was beginning to learn - what (or who) she gained would be far more substantial than she would ever realise. her hands hesitated at his back until she gave up and pulled him tighter. for some reason, one of his hands travelled to the back of her head, cradling it like she was a precious gem. he didn’t even notice until he started subconsciously smoothing down her hair. it was a habit of his, she soon forced herself to be accustomed with.

he suddenly realised the hug was lasting a little too long to stay in platonic territory. he cleared his throat and slowly pulled back. but it was too late. she was already a flustered mess. the smell of his cologne single-handedly drove her mad. or maybe it was the way she could feel his chest shake with each laugh. she audibly cleared her throat and snapped herself back into the moment.

“so…” she began, “turns out you are a good teacher?” martin tsks and swats away her - albeit sarcastic - compliment. they both knew there was a lot of room for improvement as a teacher, but clearly they just enjoyed the excuse to spend time together (though they’d never directly admit it). “maybe i just had a perfect student..” he replied under his breath, with a hint of something unreadable sparkling in his eyes. the way his head tilted to the side as he studied her expression left her with a lingering feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling her.

that night, sleep evaded her again. but this time, it wasn’t because of a haunting entity. or maybe it was, because she kept replaying that moment in her head. it should’ve been brushed off by now. instead it was left to marinate in the corners of her subconscious for her brain to dig up every few minutes.

from then, their increasingly complicated friendship blossomed.

martin rung her as soon as the clock hit twelve, signaling the new year. he cheered riotously, as she hummed in response - admittedly half-asleep, but attempting to reciprocate his boundless energy. he ended the call with an electronic smooch, not realising how it came off until he laid down later that morning.

still, he made it a point to call her every day, especially he was in the middle of shooting poorly-made music videos with his friends.

he'd force encourage her to play basketball with him and said friends after school. yn tried not to think about how juhoon would do the exact same, on this exact court, just a few years ago. oh, how much everything's changed since then. she kept playing, and it ended up being more enjoyable than she expected. maybe it was because - even with all that height, martin couldn't play for the life of him.

but neither could yn, and after the fourth missed shot, she just decided to just sit down and watch instead.

she wasn't left alone for long, though, because after he finally got a hoop, he ran up to her, smile as wide as ever and just voice as loud. her hands shot up for a double hi-five, but martin just held them in his own, as he shifted on both feet, rambling about his "very skillful" shot.

she couldn't remember laughing this hard before.

maybe, just maybe, she thought, i deserve to feel happy.

-----

their first weekend hangout landed a couple weeks into the new term of school. she wasn't in need of a tutor anymore, since she was technically caught-up now. but martin had a secret goal of wanting to see more of her come out of that shell. he didn't even know if she had hobbies or not. well, it would change that day.

they hung out in his room as per usual, but this time, she was really eyeing that gorgeous red and black guitar of his.

"what... wanna play it?" he questioned, unintentionally mimicking her scanning eyes. she nodded swiftly as a reply. martin got it set up for her, plugging it into the boxy amp that sat under his desk. she strummed a single string and her eyes automatically lit up. and - as if it was muscle memory - her fingers settled on the frets as her opposite thumb swept down the strings again, creating a simple melody. his eyes widened a little in surprise.

"when did you learn that?" he all but gushes. yn's shoulders shrugged, looking just as surprised as he did, "i was in band in like, 5th grade..."

the more you know, he thought. then, for the next hour or so, he taught her one of his favourite songs. one of the cords were difficult to get right; it made her fingers curl awkwardly in all the wrong spots. martin watched with a pained expression tugging on his face, but he waited patiently for her to get it by herself. but when she whined in frustration, he decided he had seen enough of her struggles. he leaned forward, close enough for her to notice the smell of his shampoo immediately. he carefully moved her fingers onto the correct frets, while yn tried not to focus on the way her skin burned where he brushed it. but focusing was impossible when she was holding his guitar… in his room…while his eyes waited to catch her avoidant ones. her body physically stuttered, like it was trying to rewire itself to focus on anything but the fact that he was so close, she could count his eyelashes.

focus, dammit!

martin almost certainly noticed. he noticed the way her body finally relaxed, her shoulders slumped a little and for the first time, she seemed truly … comfortable. infuriatingly so.

“hey,” he speaks after a brief pause. his voice was deeper all of a sudden. it grabbed her attention and made her head tick up. she watched how his pupils grew, almost instantly as he scanned her face. she could practically see the gears turning in his head, like he knew he was about to say something he couldn’t take back. his fingers danced across the back of her hand that rested at the base of the strings, silently asking permission to hold it in his his own. the front of his eyebrows tugged upwards when she granted it. “i-um…” he hesitates as his eyes flutter as if he was manually restarting his brain. so before he could make an excuse, he forced it out.

“i like you.”

a heavy beat passed before she even thought to reply. it was like the room was holding its breath, too.

he visibly gulped. his hands trembled a little. yet, he stayed completely still.

the words caught on her tongue, and before she could stop it- her head shook lightly, as if it would say her conflicting thoughts for her.

“…what?” he asked lightly, his voice barely making a sound, “what does that mean?” his head tilted, like he was trying to read the highly guarded expression on her face. “say something,” his voice shook, “…anything.” but his pleas would remain unanswered. her hand escaped his, and her feet carried her out of the room without before either of them could say something they couldn’t take back. martin assumed she just went to the bathroom to collect herself - rather, he hoped that’s all it was. but when he heard the front door click, it knocked a sense of finality into his fragile brain.

——

yn didn’t realise just how silent it was in the school’s library, until someone laughed loud enough to earn an unimpressed glare from the librarian. it subconsciously made her head snap up toward the sudden sound. that’s when she saw the recently empty chair opposite of her. her brows clashed together as she blinked once…. twice. her head swivelled around the room. her eyes landed on every blonde-haired student, but she knew none of them were martin. her breath stalled in her lungs, as her face grew warmer with embarrassment as something she couldn’t name made her heart twist.

why does he keep doing this? did i do something wrong? why did it mean that much to him?

as her swirling emotions warmed her face, she stared at the abandoned spot like it would give her all the answers.

he had been doing this the past few days - getting up and leaving, without so much as a ‘see you later.’ in her brain, she perfectly handled the confession the other day - she left before spewing her emotions everywhere like an uncontrollable fountain. but to him, it was plain rejection. and it hurt more than if she just said no.

she just seemed so painfully unaware of the way his heart cracked into more pieces than he could count. he wanted so desperately to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she understood the whirlwind of dizzying confusion he was caught in. she smiled like he was worth smiling at, looked at him like he was worth seeing - like nothing happened at all. because after she ran out on him, he stayed in his chair until his back began to ache from the awkward angle. but all he could do was simmer in his own embarrassment and heartbreak until he physically couldn’t. so instead of really acknowledging that she could feel the same, he’d just run away. maybe deep down, he thought that if he copied what she did, she’d feel what he did. martin was born petty, yes. and he was also born wanting love but not chasing it.

and now, they were in a cycle of awkward tension. the tension would especially make the air heavier whenever she tried to bring it up to him. she craned her head around his locker’s door, a hopeful glint in her eyes as she asked him to explain his behaviour.

“talk later.” he replied, feigning annoyance, when he was already regretting his harshness.

his regret wasn’t stronger than his stubbornness, however. so when she followed up with him later that day he cut her off with a simple yet harsh, “look - i was just in the moment. i thought i liked you, maybe i just liked your attention - what i’m trying to say is, i didn’t mean it. sorry.” martin left her standing there with her feet glued to the floor as her breath stalled in her lungs. the world could’ve crumbled, and she’d be the only thing left standing. yn’s heart twisted in a way she was well-accustomed to. martin expected her to figure it out herself, so he didn’t have to explain the way his heart (and his ego) cracked when she ran out. he called it accountability, she called it immature and stubborn.

one night she scoffed to herself while recalling how she’d embarrassed herself, yet again by practically begging martin to let her explain in the middle of class. her voice came out in uneven spouts and her hands clasped together as if the lord could somehow make martin snap out of whatever this uncooperative state was. but as expected, she was ignored. completely. he didn't even bother to glance in her direction. it was probably because he knew that if he did, he'd lose all the composure he had been strategically building. he just couldn't acknowledge that maybe he had a part in this, too.

after being continuously shoved away, she finally backed off. she had no idea that he’d switch up so easily. just half a year ago, he was crying by her side in a hospital, and begging the nurses to let him stay until she woke up. and now he was acting like this wasn’t worth talking out - like he didn’t still have a box of their childhood treasures under his bed.

just like that, a rift had forced its way through them.

with a blink, the first semester of senior year was over. martin had never been so distant. it was like he was so buried in his new life, there was no point in worrying about his old one. and why would he? he had his own band now, and an eye on the lead vocalist.

raya. her and her bright red locks flowed through life without a care, like she knew everyone would bend over backwards for her if she asked. everyone, including martin.

she must have been a comedian on the side - with the way martin’s head would fly back every time she’d do something even remotely entertaining. yn watched them at lunch, suspecting that he was putting on a show, because he had never laughed this much with her. something uncomfortably out of character settled in the pit of her stomach. jealousy. even if she could see through the facade he was so clearly hiding behind.

raya sung so angelically, you’d think that flowers bloomed where she walked. yn didn’t even seem like fair competition. so she didn’t compete. she just sat by and watched as martin grew more and more attached to raya’s hip, even if yn was beginning to resent him.

martin knew what he was doing. he knew he was hurting her. but he kept telling himself that she’d get over it.

"i don't need her," he'd say to himself, out loud, when he'd catch himself reminiscing about the way she'd twirl her hair around his pen like it was her own. he thought those four words would magically erase all his feelings for her. but they didn't. and even while being glued to raya's hip, martin only wanted yn more. he thought he hid it well. but the side-ways glances in the hall, and 'accidentally' dropping a pen next to her desk made it that much more obvious that martin was just as infatuated as ever.

raya noticed. she'd notice before anyone else. she'd call it out every time, and every time, it would turn into a fight. the fight would last all but one day, until martin would remember why they were together in the first place. so, like the switch-up he was, he come crawling back with an, "i'm sorry, baby" and all would be good.

——

graduation was in approximately, two hours. she was surrounded by her peers. most of them probably had it all figured out. they were probably emotionally stable, with their entire futures planned out and clear minds.

but her mind was far from clear, (she was sure by now, that it had always been overworking) and her future was more than uncertain. she was so out of place, like she was a puzzle piece from a completely different box. she imagined that juhoon was there, with a small smile gracing his lips, just as it did a couple minutes before he left this world. in some, round-about way, it brought her a little much-needed comfort.

martin’s band began the ceremony. raya’s voice drifted out of the multiple speakers scattered around the hall, accompanied by martin’s guitar, the same one he confessed to her over. yn focused her eyes on her shoes, so she wouldn’t be forced to look at any of them. and as the song ended, the crowd erupted in to applause, some even whistled or threw their caps onto the stage - to which they were given stern warnings from the principal.

martin and his band gathered in a line and took their bows. while his hand rested on raya’s lower back, martin scanned the crowd for yn. just to confirm that she was in attendance, of course. not at all to gauge her reaction on the song he wrote and composed … about her. or maybe, deep down he knew it would be his last chance to see her again. his heart settled in it’s usual pit of disappointment when he was hastily ushered off the stage before he could finish scanning. oh, but she saw him. she saw the way his fingers curled around the fabric on raya’s lower back with more fervour than he’d ever shown. her eye twitched, and she debated retreating to the bathrooms. but she was frozen in place, yet again. something fiery burned in her chest. it was unprotected, and it was angry.

as soon as her cap was tossed, she wondered if her life would just revert to its bland routine of simply existing. but more importantly, how she could’ve saved all this unnecessary conflict from happening.

——

what she couldn’t say to him, she scribbled onto a piece of paper…. and then stared at it for, god knows how long.

“where have you gone now, off with someone new already? as much as i’ve tried, and trust me, i did, i don’t wanna hate you. but martin, you’ve made this so fucking complicated. all because you wouldn’t let me speak. i would’ve told you that i liked you back. i would’ve -.”

her thumb furiously pressed gripped the eraser as shavings coated the paper, because she refused to admit that she missed him. because that would mean she really did fall for him. that she was moving on, further from juhoon. yn told herself that she wasn’t ready for it, at least she tried. maybe, she was just as stubborn as he was.

it was a new year again, and yn was finally getting to where she wanted to be.

the creature's visits were less common, and she had gone a couple months without it returning.

technically, she was better.

she was, until her phone began buzzing on her bedside table.

yn let the call rang out purposefully, as she stared at the caller's id with an unsure expression twisting her face.

the call turned red in her inbox, as it pinged with one last notification.

"hey, it’s been a while. sorry, i know this is sudden.

i’ve been seeing you around, y’know, you seem better. i hope you are.

your eyes are drier than mine, for once. the tables turned, huh?

i think i’m suffocating? it’s like i’m stuck on the past. how pathetic am i? seriously...

i knew you didn’t like me how i liked you, because you’re still grieving.

-and i thought i was holding onto you too tight so i just - pushed you away... i lashed out - which is so unlike me. i guess i was embarressed.

god, i regret that every, single day.

then raya was like a quick fix, she was addicting but then it became so obvious that she didn’t even like me - i didn’t really like her either, but i think i just liked pretending? and for a month or two, it was exhilarating.

then every time i looked at her i just … saw you. and then it wasn't fun anymore. it was like i was stuck in a memory.

every time she smiled, i wished it was you -i wished the joke i made about our science teacher made you laugh, not her.

i texted her and broke it off yesterday. she didn’t even pretend to care,

she just turned it on me -

she said i was just in love with you.

which came out of nowhere- is it that obvious? i think that’s what scared me the most, falling for someone who couldn't have me.

it feels i was thrown into the deep end of a diving and held under.

...you know i can’t swim.

i’m so terrified of losing you … even though i probably already have.

and i'm so sorry that i let it happen

…

i wish you were here. i wanna hear your voice. i want to put it in my songs so i can listen on repeat.

sorry, i sound creepy and im running out of time on this voicemail

i love you - bye"

martin's voice sounded so different, it was broken and unusually timid, but was unmistakably him. this had clearly been running on his mind until he couldn't handle it any longer.

the audio played out a couple time as yn stared at her phone until the screen was printed into her corneas - or at least, until her phone grew tired and fell asleep. the warmth in of her fingers created condensation across the back glass as her brain flashed (poorly timed) reminders of her first time in his house, and every extended glance she caught since then. unbeknownst to yn, a seed had planted itself in martin's heart from the very start; and with every, passing second he spent with her, it grew rapidly. until the branches took space in every part of his mind, until it manifested in his eyes and his toothy grin. his pupils would blow wide whenever he’d hear her voice, his eyebrows would clash together in adoration when she’d nod along to his instrumentals. and how his bottom lip would catch under his teeth as he watched her play his guitar. something she had only caught in this moment. she saw all of it, but her brain refused to acknowledge it at the time. maybe it was trying to protect her. yn's heart clutched with the realisation.

how could he mess it up so horrendously? did he really deserve her forgiveness? because when promises are broken, more resentment settles is the cracks then eventually, it rots your trust from the inside, out.

but she hasn't gotten there, just yet. in fact, there was still a piece of her that longed for him. not in the way she longed for juhoon, no. it was more like that spark turned into a burning flame that would only grow impatient and more furious - one that made her want to write more often; one that made her heart speed up whenever she passed him in the halls. and if she didn't find a way to put that flame out, well, she was screwed.

“…damnit, martin.” she cursed, rubbing circles on her temples like it would cure her martin-induced headache.

----------

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||၊|• about a year later

she woke up knowing today would be long. not only did she have martin’s music ringing in her head, but she was plagued with the reminder that it had been four years since juhoon took his last breath. that’s: 1,461 days since his unfairly peaceful end... and two and a half years since she last spoke to martin.

of course, her built-up feelings urged her to write more letters to him. the pile beside her bed would double every week, and quickly, the harshly worded complaints turned into love-sick poems. obviously, martin still thought about her, and the voicemail he left a few months ago still kept them both awake.

as she stepped outside, the winter air crisply wrapped around her in a strangely comforting way. not the in the way wearing his old winter coat comforted her, but in the way that she could hide. sort of. everyone was just more focused on the first snowflakes blanketing every inch of the town - no one even questioned her increasingly reddening eyes (that had nothing to do with the weather). then just by her luck, the snowfall turned torrential, and attacked her face from every direction with little knife-like flakes - not caring for her emotional state in any regard. she wrapped her scarf tighter around her mouth like a mask and continued forward.

she was once again, left with her thoughts.

and as she walked she realised that this feeling wasn’t grief anymore. it was the acceptance that juhoon lived in the edges of her mind now, and it was okay. fragile, yes, but less raw — less gut wrenching and more like a walking on a sprained ankle. it hurts for a while and never fully heals - but you learn how to manage.

juhoon’s favourite songs became her own, especially on days such as this. it seemed to lift her mood a little. it put a more pleasant filter over this chapter in her life. a small, unintentional smile settled on her lips. right now, she was only focused on her phone’s screen and the music soothing her soul. a sigh swept out of her mouth and muffled into her scarf, as her shoulders finally lost their fight to gravity.

she was oblivious to the fact that the soles of her ragged winter boots were giving out. after realising a second too late, her eyes blew open and she ungracefully tried to stop the fall with a few (pitiful) wobbles her arms flailing helplessly. with a painful thud, she collided with the icy asphalt. she huffed as embarrassment heated up her face and sent her pulse racing. she contemplated lying back and letting the snow claim her so she wouldn’t have to walk another step. before she could sacrifice herself, footsteps crunched towards her - and soon, a pale hand extended out to her. the arm was accompanied by a slightly raspy: “are you okay?” she timidly took the hand, before hastily brushing off the snow that clung to her jeans. she caught the familiar bling of the chain hanging from his belt loop, before the voice and the face caught up with her.

she had to be hallucinating. her mind totally just mistook this man for martin edwards. right?

“hello?” he waved his hand in front of her face, jokingly trying to regain her attention. but as always, there was a hint of concern woven into his teasing grin.

it took a while for the disbelieving shock to wear off her face, she almost had to manually scrub it off. but, then it settled into the creases bracketing her mouth and the fat under her eyes. as they tracked through the poorly-cleared footpaths, her lips were sealed shut. oddly enough, the tension fizzled away as soon as they crossed into the cemetery where her ex-lover laid. she settled on the wooden bench across from the headstone after clearing the snow with the end of her scarf. martin hesitated, carefully reading over the text that was engraved on the stone with something vulnerable tugging his eyebrows up and the corners of his lips down. her gaze stagnated there, too, even when she spoke. “sit,” she beckoned him, her voice coming out so softly that a gust of wind could’ve carried it away.

there were so many things that could’ve been said: explanations on why their treasured relationship was tarnished by their childish ways; the fact that - no matter how much time passes, they still hold each other in such high regards.

...but the gentle silence proved to be just enough for them to relax in. maybe the tearful apologies could wait (because they were inevitable). his eyes lingered on yn for a second before he finally let up, and joined her on the slightly frozen seat.

several minutes later, the snow ceased its icy parade and settled on the leaves above them like tiny crystalline gems. the wind came to a peaceful hush that lightly brushed martin's freshly-auburn strands onto his forehead, though most of it was held down by that beanie she bought him a couple birthdays ago. yn shifted closer to him, inadvertently seeking both his warmth and shelter. her head lowered onto his shoulder, like it belonged there. like those months of no-contact only existed in their dreams… like she was finally remembering what peace felt like. he didn’t flinch. instead, he placed his head on top of hers. his eyes fluttered closed - and suddenly the frozen world around them blurred like it was made just for them. for the first time in a while, he let himself live in the moment for as long as he could; breathe air, knowing there was still oxygen left; and take her hand to warm it up in his jacket’s fur-lined pocket without letting his thoughts overpower this moment.

something unguarded bloomed in the serenity, as they let time warp and bend around them without a care for the outside world.

and after however long forever was,

a soothing sense of calm washed over her.

it filled the cracks in her heart, just for the moment, and it loosened her muscles.

and she deserved it.

-----

tapping!!! [tags]

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