❝ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐲 ❞- ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴜɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴍʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxQᴜɪꜱɪᴛᴇ ʜᴀʀᴍᴏɴʏ ᴏꜰ ꜱɪᴍᴜʟᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ.
In the heart of Seoul, two strangers, Lee Minho and Han Jisung, are inexplicably united through their dreams. Every night, Minho, a software deve...
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♥༻∞ Lee Minho ∞༺♥
As the days stretched on, the gap between Jisung and me seemed to widen despite our physical closeness. We missed each other most of the time, ships passing in the emotional night of his impending military service. That news had shattered something fundamental between us, and though we tried to talk it through, a part of my heart remained snagged on the sharp edges of anger and hurt.
Tonight was our first attempt at normalcy since the news broke, a night out with friends at a local karaoke bar. Felix, Hyunjin, and others were there, their spirits high as they belted out songs, the current one being IU's "Love Wins All." Their laughter and off-key singing should have lightened my mood, but instead, a heavy weight pressed relentlessly on my chest.
I sat there, feeling increasingly isolated amid the joyous noise, my emotions an undertow pulling me further away from the shore of companionship. I took a sip of soju, the sharp burn of the alcohol not enough to wash away the bitterness that lingered on my tongue. Turning my gaze away from the group, I felt the urge to escape, to find solitude where I could unravel my thoughts without the facade of joviality.
The noise of laughter and singing grew muffled as my thoughts spiraled. The reality of Jisung's imminent departure was a constant echo in my mind, a reminder that soon, the physical presence I had come to rely on would be absent. How could I reconcile the resentment of his withholding the news with the understanding of his fears? How could I prepare myself for the loneliness that would surely come?
As another song queued up and the group's cheers filled the air, I realized that no amount of discussion could immediately heal the wound left by the news of his departure. It was a process, a slow and often painful one, that required more than just words—it needed time, and perhaps space.
Perhaps tonight wasn't about forcing myself to feel better but acknowledging that it was okay to not be okay. It was okay to need space, to step back and gather my strength away from the crowd. With that thought, I excused myself from the table, murmuring something about needing some air.
Stepping outside into the cool night, the fresh air felt like a balm. The quiet of the outside was a stark contrast to the cacophony inside. Here, under the open sky, I could breathe, think, and begin to reconcile my inner turmoil with the need to support Jisung through his own trials.
The cold air bit at my skin as I sat huddled against the wall outside the karaoke bar, the clamor from inside fading into a distant hum. The fear was suffocating, each thought of Jisung's impending departure tightening an invisible band around my chest. It wasn't just the idea of him leaving that sparked this dread; it was the haunting image of watching him walk out that door, not just any door, but the one that marked the threshold of our shared life, which he would cross, leaving me on the other side.
I drew my knees closer to my chest, trying to find comfort in the small enclosure of my arms, the reality of the weeks ahead loomed over me. The panic swelled within, like a wave ready to crash down and sweep me away. I wanted to be strong, both for Jisung and myself, but in that moment, all I could feel was the terrifying pulse of impending loneliness.
