𝟯𝟬: 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗰𝗸

133 6 2

by Hyuckieluvs__

by Hyuckieluvs__

Fragments of Us

Sypnopsis:

Haechan, in the process of cleaning his desk, stumbles upon an old photo album filled with pictures of his ex, Mark.

✦

Haechan sat at his cluttered desk, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound breaking the stillness of the afternoon. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. He had been meaning to clean out his drawers for months, but life had a way of keeping him busy. Today, however, he had no more excuses.

As he sifted through the layers of old notebooks, receipts, and forgotten trinkets, his hand brushed against something that felt oddly familiar. He pulled out a small, worn leather album. Haechan's heart skipped a beat as he opened it, revealing a series of photographs. Pictures of Mark.

Mark, with his disheveled hair and easy smile, appeared in every snapshot. There they were at the beach, laughing as they tried to build a sandcastle that kept collapsing. Another showed them at a concert, Mark's arm slung casually over Haechan's shoulder, both of them singing along to their favorite song.

Haechan couldn't help but smile at the memories. He could almost hear Mark's laughter, the way it would bubble up uncontrollably, infectious and joyous. His fingers traced the edge of a photo where Mark was mid-laugh, head thrown back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

❝Remember when we almost missed the train back because you just had to get that last ice cream?❞ Haechan murmured to himself, chuckling softly.

It felt like another lifetime, those days spent with Mark. The long walks through the park, the spontaneous road trips, the quiet nights curled up on the couch watching movies. Each picture brought back a flood of memories, each one more vivid than the last.

But as Haechan continued to flip through the photos, the laughter in his mind began to fade, replaced by the sound of their arguments. He paused on a picture of them at a café, a candid shot where Mark was caught mid-sentence, eyes animated as he talked about something passionately. Haechan could almost hear his voice, the way it would rise and fall with excitement.

❝Haechan, you know what? One day, I'm going to travel the world,❞ Mark had said, eyes alight with dreams. ❝We'll go together, see everything. Paris, Tokyo, New York... everywhere.❞

Haechan smiled wistfully. ❝Yeah, and I'll make sure you don't get lost,❞ he had teased back then.

But their dreams had remained just that—dreams. As the months went by, they found themselves arguing more than laughing. The shared visions of their future had started to feel like burdens rather than promises.

✦

❝Why don't you ever listen to me, Mark?❞ Haechan had shouted one night, frustration boiling over. ❝It's like you don't even care about what I want anymore.❞

Mark had looked at him, hurt and confusion etched across his face. ❝I do care, Haechan. But it feels like you’re always trying to change me, to make me into someone I’m not.❞

Haechan's eyes filled with tears as he lingered on a photo from their last anniversary. They were both smiling, but he could see the strain in their eyes, the forced cheerfulness masking deeper issues. It was a poignant reminder of how hard they had tried to hold on, even when it was clear they were slipping away from each other.

The end had been painful, but inevitable. They had parted ways, agreeing that it was for the best. Haechan had tried to move on, throwing himself into work and new hobbies, but the memories lingered, haunting the quiet moments.

Even now, as he sat surrounded by the relics of their past, Haechan felt a mixture of sorrow and longing. They had shared something beautiful, something that had shaped him in ways he was still discovering. But the pain of their breakup was still raw, a wound that time had yet to heal.

His phone buzzed, jolting him back to the present. It was a message from a friend, reminding him of their dinner plans. Haechan glanced at the clock, realizing he had lost track of time.

He carefully closed the album, placing it back in the drawer. As he stood up, he whispered, ❝Thank you, Mark. For everything.❞

As he headed out the door, Haechan felt a heaviness in his chest, as if a part of him had been left behind with those photographs. The memories would always be there, a cherished story of love and loss. And as he stepped into the evening light, he knew that moving on didn't mean forgetting. It meant carrying the past with him, honoring it, and finding a way to live with the pieces it had left behind.

⸻ ✦
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