always ↬ leading me on || l.dh • h.rj • z.cl

·forty six·

When Renjun arrived to the town square, Donghyuck was waiting for him, sat down on the edge of the large fountain in the centre as the rain dripped down his sun-kissed skin in perfect droplets that almost looked like tears. His hair was damp, but he didn't seem to mind as he pushed it back from where it was sticking to his forehead, looking around curiously while swinging his legs back and forth.

Renjun thought that he looked too at peace — that he stuck out amongst the many scampering people, relaxed and as if he had no care in the world.

He wondered if Donghyuck was like him and ever lost sleep at night thinking of the person he loved.

With a sigh, he approached the younger boy, trying his best to paint on a smile as he turned the other's head so he was gazing at him before placing a light kiss to his temple and grabbing his hand, ushering for him to get up. His skin was warm and though it didn't feel like home to him, he tried to imagine that it was.

"You know, you didn't have to wait out in the rain for me, you could've gone into one of the buildings," Renjun started after he had cleared his throat, not looking in the direction of the boy whose eyes had never left his, even as they started walking, "you could get sick."

"It doesn't matter," Donghyuck replied, tilting his head up to stare at the cloudy sky, letting a breath tumble from his lips and materialise into the form of a small grey puff, "you'll... be there to nurse me back to health, right? So I don't mind."

The words caused Renjun to stop in his tracks, unintentionally loosening his grip on the orange haired boy's hand.

Chenle used to say things like that all the time.

"Gege!" his voice came and Renjun's head snapped up instantly, watching in shock as fourteen year old Chenle bounded up to him with a pretty smile on his face.

"Lele?" he squeaked, "what are you doing here? You're gonna catch a cold!"

"I don't care," he laughed, sticking his tongue out playfully, "you're gonna take care of me when I'm sick anyway, so it's okay!"

"-jun? Renjun?" he was quickly snapped out of his reminiscence as the back of Donghyuck's hand came to brush against his cheek in worry.

"Oh, uh- sorry about that-"

"Are you okay? You zoned out there, did I say something wron-"

"No," the ravenette interrupted him swiftly, before dragging him along to a café he saw close-by, "come on, let's go inside there."

Donghyuck let himself be pulled forward, arm dropping to his side and hand curling up into a fist, nails digging into his palms as he tried to distract himself from the ever-growing flood of insecurities in his head.

Renjun didn't trust him.

Not enough to share his worries or confide in him. Not enough to let him in, to bring him closer and allow him to comfort him. Oh, but he wanted that so badly — wanted to be a safe place for the elder and bring him happiness. True happiness. Real happiness. Happiness that he knew the other boy had never experienced before, he wanted to show him what it was like.

The joy he felt whenever Renjun looked his way for longer than a second.

He wanted Renjun to feel that too.

The fluttering feeling that encased his heart that would beat faster - at its fastest — whenever he was around.

He wanted to have that affect on him as well.

Yet, although he craved to, he didn't have that ability and he was working on coming to terms with that, as hard as it may have been.

A little ping resounded through the air of the gradually stilling streets, sharp as it hit his ears and Renjun was rushing him into the building before he could even get a proper glimpse of the exterior. He did, however, manage to catch the sign that hung above it, painted a deep purple with luminescent silver cursive that spelt out 'Full Moon'.

Donghyuck's chest felt heavy.

In the blink of an eye, he was sitting down opposite Renjun and staring blankly at the boy who stood behind the counter, if he squinted, he'd be able to read the letters on his name tag, but he didn't feel like going through the trouble of doing so.

"Hyuck," Renjun called for his attention once the both of them had ordered, "be my boyfriend."

If the boy he had so nonchalantly addressed had any coffee right now, he would have drank it just to splutter it all out in a fit of surprise, completely not expecting Renjun to say something like that.

And although Donghyuck's heart had started palpitating at an inhuman speed, he knew that this was wrong. That it shouldn't have been like this. There was no love or sincerity in his words and he could see the emptiness so clearly in Renjun's eyes, the way they were hollow and looked straight through him as if he were a glass wall.

His stomach turned.

He couldn't do this.

Not when Renjun was so blatantly uninterested in him.

Not when he knew that the other had someone else on his mind.

"You're hurting me," he whispered instead of saying anything else — hands gripping heavily at the solid wood of the table beneath his fingertips as he tried to reign in his tears and draw his running heart back to him.

Renjun opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but Donghyuck cut him off before that, "God, you're always hurting me. You've been hurting me since the very beginning, making me fall for you and then leading me on, do you never get sick of it? Of playing with me a-and using me-" he choked up a sob, dabbing at his eyes and not caring for the amount of people that had turned to them, "w-why can't it be me? Why can't I be the one you love? Why is it always h-him?"

Silence.

All he heard was silence, not a single sound from anyone around him, not a word from Renjun's lips, yet he could still hear the apology that was about to leave it and he shook his head and forced a smile, "just go Renjun, go to him now before it's too late. I knew I never had a chance, I guess it was wishful thinking but... you deserve someone who's actually worth it and that's obviously not me."

A heartbeat sped by and for a second, Donghyuck really thought that Renjun would stay, that he'd bringing him into a tight embrace and tell him that he was all he needed, that he was enough — had always been enough. It was foolish of him, to even have the passing thought that Renjun considered him as anything other than another face in the crowd.

He was gone.

Like the blowing wind that he had ran out in, Renjun was gone. With his seat upturned, coffee still yet to be served and a broken boy left behind, he disappeared. And perhaps the pouring rain held a message for him, a small 'thank you' for freeing their friend from a future he was afraid of and its deepest condolences for the unrequited feelings.

Perhaps the rain held a message for him, but he never tried to decipher what it was.

When Donghyuck wept, he wept like his world had fallen to ruins.

It had.