Male Reader X Ahn Yu Jin (EX-IZ*ONE / IVE)
Genre: angst
Words: 2851
________________________________In the heart of Seoul, where the Han River flows like the bloodline of the city, Ahn Yujin stood in the middle of her one-bedroom apartment, tracing the soft wood grain of the closet door with her fingertips. The closet was a labor of love, crafted by Y/n, who had once been more than a friend, more than a fleeting memory. Now, the empty hangers rattled softly with a whisper of loneliness, a testament to his absence.
"Yujin-ah," her mother's voice beckoned from the living room, snapping her from her reverie. "Don't forget, you have your violin rehearsal today."
"I know, Omma," Yujin replied, her voice echoing slightly against the bare walls. The apartment still held the echo of emptiness, a hollow shell that once brimmed with shared laughter and whispered dreams.
As Yujin prepared to leave, her gaze fell upon a stack of cardboard boxes, each filled with Y/n's belongings - his shoes, his books, his sketches of Seoul's skyline. They were all that remained of him, tangible memories that she couldn't bring herself to part with, but was preparing to send back to him.
---
At a quaint café not far from the Seoul Arts Center, Y/n sat by a window, his eyes lost in the steam rising from his coffee. His friends chatted around him, but their words were a distant hum, drowned out by the silent cacophony of his thoughts.
"Y/n-ah," his friend Min-ho nudged him. "You haven't said much. What's on your mind?"
Y/n hesitated, then sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about her... about Yujin."
Min-ho leaned back, understanding creasing his brow. "It's been months, hyung. You need to move on."
"I've tried," Y/n murmured, his voice tinged with an ache that he couldn't shake. "But no matter how I try to... I can't."
---
The violin strings cried under Yujin's bow, each note a pained whisper echoing through the rehearsal hall. Yujin's instructor, Mrs. Kim, halted the practice with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Yujin, your technique is flawless, but where is your heart? Music is emotion," Mrs. Kim implored.
"My heart..." Yujin trailed off, her thoughts drifting to Y/n. Their shared love for music had been one of the threads that wove them together. But now, that thread felt frayed, the music hollow.
She excused herself, stepping into the cool evening air, her phone heavy in her hand. With a trembling finger, she scrolled to Y/n's number. She paused, then locked the phone. "I can't," she whispered to herself. "Not yet."
---
Y/n was jolted from his restless sleep by a dream - a memory, rather - of Yujin playing her violin, her eyes closed, swaying to the rhythm of a melody that they both loved. In the darkness of his room, he reached for the sketchpad on his nightstand, his hand moving to capture the lines of her face, the curve of her neck. But the drawing felt incomplete, just like the void she had left behind.
As dawn broke, Y/n made a decision. He would go to her, one last time, to retrieve his things and perhaps find closure.
---
Yujin's heart leapt as she heard a knock on her door. She knew before she saw him that it was Y/n. Opening the door, she was met with his familiar face, a little more drawn, a little more tired, but still the person who once meant everything to her.
"Yujin-ah," Y/n greeted, his voice a low rumble of emotion. "I came for my things."
The words hung between them, heavy and undeniable.