〈 cigarettes and childhood memories 〉〈 sangihun 〉

𝟏. 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞

a/n;  hey fellow sangi-hun shippers. i've decided to publicize my work. it's not gonna be that good since i'm not an experienced writer but i hope you like it at least a little bit. i'm also sorry it's a little short, i wanted to get the first part done asap so i know whether or not people would like me to continue.

All that was heard was the delicate rain hugging the concrete floor

along with the crackling of a burnt out cigarette

and the faint sobs of his childhood friend who stood before him.

The empty road was dressed elegantly in rainwater. An uncomfortable silence ceased between the two, their eyes resting idle on the small flood that saturated their shoes with water. How could he look him in the eyes and convince himself he's the same as he used to be?

Especially when he isn't.

His weeping told him otherwise. There were so many words he wanted to exchange, so many things he wanted to say, yet there was never the right time. It wasn't relevant. Not possible. There couldn't be a right time now that Sang-woo was never around. He wished he could face him and rather than seeing a cold-hearted backstabber, he'd recognize a childhood friend he once cherished and adored. If it weren't for that, he'd approach him, take him to his favorite coffee shop, and talk about what went wrong over a nice cup of coffee.

But he knew what was wrong.

"... Sang-woo." Talk to me.

No response.

SAY something.

"... Sang-woo. Just fucking answer me." a harsher tone emphasized in his voice.

Nothing.

He didn't listen. He never listens.

At least an apology would be nice.

Or something along the lines of, "thank you for giving everything up just to save my selfish ass who murdered your fucking friends, Gi-hun!"

Something. ANYTHING.

It's no use. Gi-hun couldn't care any less. He could've left ages ago instead of standing around, waiting for an answer that would never emerge from the guilty man's lips. There's better things to be worrying about other than this self-centered freak. His back turned--

"... You're leaving?"

He stood, stopping in his steps.

"I am." why wouldn't I?

Sang-woo's eyes finally lifted off of the floor, "You should stay." please stay.

"... I can't sit out here in the rain, I'll get sick. I have more important things to attend to."

"Like what?" Sang-woo spat. Don't make up excuses.

Defeated, he couldn't protest. "What do you want?"

"You haven't said a word to me since we left. Why is that?"