𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗞𝗬 ; seungjin

U

last chapter:<

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On a particularly rainy afternoon, Hyunjin ducked into the old bookstore where they had first met. He hadn't meant to go there, but his feet had led him on autopilot. The moment he crossed the threshold, the odour of some old books mixed with the smell of polished wood reminded him of things he could not yet bear to contemplate.

And there he saw him – Seungmin walking down the aisles of the store. There, standing just a few feet away, a camera still hanging around his neck, flipping through a book of photographs. Hyunjin's breath caught in his throat. Ah, bitter nostalgia. He hadn't seen Seungmin in months. He was, in his mind prepared for this moment but the emotions that suddenly overwhelmed him had a different story to tell.

Seungmin's eyes lifted, and they locked onto Hyunjin's. For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze, just like it had the day they met. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them standing there, surrounded by memories that neither of them could forget.

"Hyunjin," Seungmin said softly, his voice barely audible.

"Hi," Hyunjin replied, his heart pounding in his chest.

Seungmin looked down at the book in his hands, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Neither was I," Hyunjin admitted.

"I've missed you," Seungmin murmured after a long pause, his voice barely louder than the soft patter of rain against the windows.

Hyunjin's chest tightened. "I've missed you too," he admitted, though saying it out loud made the pain worse. He had missed Seungmin every day since they'd parted, but the ache in his heart reminded him of why they had fallen apart in the first place.

Hyunjin could see something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe, or just sadness. When Seungmin finally spoke, his words came out heavy, laced with exhaustion. "I'm sorry for everything, Hyunjin. I wanted to be the person you needed. I really tried... but—" His voice broke, and he looked away, his gaze falling to the floor. "I just couldn't."

He had heard those words in his head a thousand times before, but hearing them now, from Seungmin's mouth, made them real. "I know," he whispered, the words catching in his throat. "We both tried."

He stepped a little closer, reducing the space between them. For a brief moment, Hyunjin thought Seungmin might reach out, touch him, maybe hold him the way he used to. But he didn't.

Instead, Seungmin turned his head to look out the window, watching the rain trace patterns down the glass.

"I'm leaving," Seungmin said softly, his voice distant. "I got a job in Paris. It's... it's a good opportunity."

Hyunjin's heart sank. "Paris?" The words hit Hyunjin like a blow, but he forced himself to smile, to be the supportive person he had always tried to be. "That's amazing, Seungmin. You've talked about it for so long."

"Yeah..." Seungmin's voice wavered.

Hyunjin pressed his lips together, fighting the swell of emotions rising inside him. "I'm happy for you," Hyunjin said, though his voice faltered.

Seungmin finally turned to look at him, his eyes glassy with unspoken pain. "I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed."

Hyunjin shook his head, feeling the sting of tears burning at the corners of his eyes. "Don't. Don't apologize. We were good together... for a while. And maybe that's enough."

They had loved each other deeply, fully, but sometimes love wasn't enough to hold everything together.

"I should go," Seungmin said, his voice cracking. "My flight's in a few hours."

Hyunjin nodded, his throat tight. He wanted to say something, anything, but there were no more words left.

Seungmin hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the knob. For a second, Hyunjin thought he might turn around, change his mind, stay. But instead, Seungmin opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his footsteps soft and fading.

Like the day they broke up and Seungmin left.

Seungmin was gone. For real this time.

Hyunjin wiped at his eyes, but the tears kept coming. He finally left the bookstore, stepping out into the rain, not caring that he hadn't brought an umbrella. The raindrops hit his skin, cold and sharp, but they blended with the warmth of his tears.

Like all beautiful things, their love had faded, slipping into void and all that remained were memories—fragile, distant, and bittersweet. He realized that some endings weren't meant to be grand or tragic. Some endings were quiet, like a soft rain that falls, soaks into the earth, and disappears without a trace.

And maybe that was okay.