The Ghost of You | Seongjoong

~ III ~

Chapter Three
-A Lingering Hope-

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the campus. Autumn was in full swing, and the crisp air was filled with the scent of fallen leaves and the distant hint of woodsmoke. Hongjoong walked briskly to class, his breath visible in the cool air.

Hongjoong smiled as he looked down at his feet. "Seonghwa..." he chuckled lightly, the name suited the silver-haired male perfectly. The name sounded so perfect rolling off the rip of his tongue softly. Just thinking about the silver haired male brought a warmth to his heart that contrasted pleasantly with the chill in the air.

Hongjoong adjusted the strap of his backpack and tugged his scarf tighter around his neck. The leaves crunched underfoot, a satisfying sound that accompanied his thoughts. The campus was alive with the vibrant colors of fall, the trees adorned with hues of red, orange, and yellow. Students bundled in coats and scarves hurried to their classes, their conversations punctuated with laughter and the occasional gust of wind.

As he approached the lecture hall, Hongjoong felt a familiar mix of anticipation and dread. He enjoyed his classes, but the constant pressure of assignments and exams weighed heavily on him. Today was no different. He entered the building, the warmth inside a welcome contrast to the chilly air outside. The scent of coffee wafted from a nearby café, and he made a mental note to grab a cup after class.

The lecture hall was already filling up, students settling into their seats and chatting quietly. Hongjoong found his usual spot near the middle, where he could see the board clearly but remain somewhat inconspicuous. He pulled out his notebook and pens, arranging them neatly on the desk in front of him.

Around him, his classmates engaged in conversation and laughter, their voices creating a low hum that filled the room. Hongjoong looked down at his hands, feeling a pang of isolation despite being surrounded by people. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket down, hiding his wrists as they suddenly felt itchy.

He itched at them through the material of his jacket, but it wasn't enough. The sensation gnawed at him, persistent and demanding. His sleeve rode up as he scratched, and his eyes caught sight of the scars lining his wrists. He froze, the sight sending a wave of sadness crashing over him. Quickly, he pulled his sleeve down, covering the marks and the memories they held.

His classmates continued to chat and laugh, oblivious to his internal struggle. They shared stories about their weekend plans, made jokes about the upcoming exams, and exchanged lighthearted banter that seemed so effortless. Hongjoong's heart ached with longing as he watched them, feeling like an outsider looking in on a world he couldn't quite reach.

He tried to focus on the lecture, but the happiness around him only magnified his own sense of isolation. It wasn't that he didn't have friends—he was friendly with his classmates and coworkers– but moments like these, surrounded by people who seemed so effortlessly connected, made him acutely aware of the distance he felt.

Hongjoong sighed softly, his eyes lingering on a group of students a few rows ahead. They were laughing at something on one of their phones, their joy palpable and infectious. He wished he could join in, be a part of their world, but the weight of his past and the scars on his wrists felt like an invisible barrier, keeping him apart.

He glanced out the window, the golden hues of autumn casting a warm glow over the campus. The beauty of the scene contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside him. The leaves danced in the breeze, free and vibrant, while he felt anchored by his own insecurities and memories.