By The Window | YeonBin

ten

It's been days since Soobin last talked to Yeonjun. The absence has weighed heavily on him, and the sight of Yeonjun's closed window, always with the curtains drawn tight, felt like a constant reminder of how he's not welcomed there.

Though Soobin's legs had been slowly healing, the effort to climb up to Yeonjun's window was still challenging. But tonight, driven by whatever feeling he felt— worry? Curiosity? Confusion? He doesn't know.

Soobin decides to make the effort once more.

As he climbs up the trellis to Yeonjun's window, he notices the familiar stench of cigarettes wafting from the window. It hits him like a slap in the face, and his heart sinks. When Yeonjun finally opens the window, the smell grows stronger, filling the air.

"What the hell— Jun? You smoke now?" Soobin's voice is a mix of shock and frustration.

Yeonjun, leaning against the window frame, takes another hit from his cigarette and shrugs, looking absentmindedly at the boy. "Yeah. What's it to you?"

Soobin, taken aback by Yeonjun's nonchalant attitude, lets out a frustrated sigh. "Does your family know? They okay with this? The hell are you doing, man?"

Yeonjun's face darkens, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't know jack shit about my family."

Soobin was taken aback by the sudden outburst. "Yeah... that's true." Soobin took a deep breath. "But that doesn't mean they couldn't care, right?" He continued, talking as gently as possible, thinking he was threading his words lightly.

Yeonjun's face hardened as his jaw clenched. "What do you know?" He coldly retorted.

"My father's absent, rarely I see him every time I go home— when he does, mockery, degradation, disappointment is all over his face! And my mother?" Yeonjun laughed bitterly.

"She's too busy neglecting me to even notice how I'm feeling. Put them together? They'll fight all the fucking time. And when they're not fighting, communication is just dog shit. They don't give a damn about how happy, how sad, how angry— how- how miserable I am." Yeonjun kept on going, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to breathe between his words.

"Even if I try to show them I'm hurting, all I get is, 'Isn't the roof over your head enough?'"

The words come out in a torrent, a mix of frustration and despair. Yeonjun's voice shakes, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm stuck in this mess, and I can't fucking show them how bad it really is. It's either I pretend everything's fine or get yelled at for not being grateful."

Soobin, stunned by Yeonjun's outburst, tries to keep his voice calm. "But smoking isn't the way out, you know that, right? It's not good for you. You're just adding more pain—"

Yeonjun cuts him off, his anger flaring again. "Why do you care?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with the suffocating tension. Soobin's heart pounds with a mixture of frustration and hurt. He wants to scream, to shake Yeonjun and make him understand.

'I fucking care, you dipshit!' Soobin wants to shout, but the words stick in his throat.

His face flushes with a mix of anger and sadness, his voice trembling. "'Cause you're my friend. I care because seeing you hurt like this—" Soobin was panting, his emotions overflowing, "it kills me. I want to help, but you keep pushing me away!"

'My friend' he thinks I'm his friend? Huh, how funny.

"If it kills you," Yeonjun spoke again as he puts out his cigarette. "Then get out."

The words hit Soobin like a blow, and he stares at Yeonjun, hurt and confused. "Yeonjun—"

"Leave," Yeonjun repeats, his voice cold and final.

Soobin, feeling defeated, just looked at Yeonjun in helplessly as he reluctantly turns and climbs back down, his heart heavy with worry and frustration.

Yeonjun closes the window behind Soobin, he feels an unrelenting ache in his gut, a mix of guilt and anxiety raining on him.

The image of Soobin's concerned face lingers in his mind, twisting his insides with discomfort.

Fuck... what did I do...

He feels trapped, caught between the bliss of his new escape and the guilt of pushing away the one person who genuinely cared.

To drown out the pain, he lights another cigarette, the smoke swirling around him like a temporary shield against the mental-war he can't seem to escape.

Yeonjun takes a long hit, trying to numb the ache that won't go away, but it's a fleeting relief. The weight of his actions presses down on him, and he feels the burn of his choices— both from the cigarette and from the growing distance between him and Soobin.

The unrelenting pain in his gut seems to tighten with each exhale, a constant reminder of the mess he's made of his life and relationships.

Way to go, Yeonjun.

____________

a.n.

Aaahhh.... The theatrics of miscommunication, how fun eh?

Let's drown in angst my luvs 🫶