cuz days blend to one (when im on) ⸻ soogyu
the wind was sharp against the shore, a dull gray morning where everything felt muted, like the sky was holding back the color it would spill later. soobin and beomgyu walked side by side, their feet sinking slightly into the damp sand with each step. they'd known each other for so long that words weren't really necessary anymore. or maybe that was just an excuse soobin told himself, a way to avoid breaking the silence that had been growing between them like a fog. he glanced sideways, catching the way beomgyu's eyes were fixed on the waves as they curled up and collapsed against the beach.
they'd met as kids, two restless souls brought together by chance or maybe fate. soobin still remembered that first summer they'd spent together, the two of them running wild along the beach, filling the air with laughter. beomgyu had a way of making soobin feel seen, like every quirk, every insecurity was somehow less when beomgyu was around. maybe it was the way beomgyu could make anything into a joke, turning even soobin's darkest thoughts into something almost lighthearted, something that felt like it would dissolve if they just laughed hard enough. soobin had clung to that laughter, to beomgyu's confidence, as if it could shield him from everything he feared.
but people changed. or maybe it was just that life had a way of wearing people down until they became something else, something harder to recognize. somewhere along the way, soobin found himself growing quieter, more withdrawn, while beomgyu's laughter grew louder, sharper. it was like he was trying to drown out something that only he could hear. and then, one day, soobin realized that he and beomgyu were still walking side by side, but in completely different worlds.
"do you ever feel like... everything's just slipping away?" soobin asked, finally breaking the silence.
beomgyu looked at him, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "all the time. that's life, isn't it? one big, messy slip."
soobin wanted to laugh, wanted to play along, but the words felt like they were caught in his throat. he wondered if beomgyu ever really understood him, or if he was always just pretending, playing the part that soobin needed him to play. maybe he was asking too much. maybe it was selfish to want beomgyu to be more than he could be.
"i don't know, gyu," soobin murmured. "it feels... different. like it's slipping in a way that i can't catch anymore."
"that's because you're trying too hard to catch it," beomgyu replied, his voice light, dismissive. he kicked at a shell, watching it skitter across the sand. "you're always trying to hold onto things, soobin. sometimes you just have to let go."
let go. the words felt heavy, like stones settling in his stomach. he wanted to tell beomgyu that he couldn't, that he didn't know how, that letting go felt like giving up. but he stayed silent, swallowing back the words because he knew beomgyu wouldn't understand. or maybe he would, and that was even scarier.
the days began to blend together, endless stretches of gray skies and crashing waves. they kept coming to the beach, like it was the only place they knew to go, the only place where they could pretend that things hadn't changed. but even the beach felt different now, the sand colder, the waves rougher, as if the world itself was slowly pushing them apart.
soobin started finding reasons to leave early, excuses that felt hollow even to him. he'd tell beomgyu he had something to do, somewhere to be, but he'd always end up just wandering, feeling the emptiness press down on him. he didn't know what he was looking for, only that it was something he couldn't find, not with beomgyu, not alone.
one day, as they sat on the sand watching the sunset, soobin finally spoke the words he'd been holding back.
"maybe... maybe we're not meant to be friends forever," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
beomgyu didn't look at him, his gaze fixed on the horizon. for a long moment, there was only the sound of the waves, and soobin wondered if he'd even heard him. then, beomgyu laughed, a bitter sound that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"you're always so dramatic, soobin," he said, shaking his head. "why can't you just enjoy things for what they are?"
"maybe i don't know how," soobin admitted, his voice cracking. "maybe i'm just... tired of pretending everything's fine when it's not."
beomgyu turned to him then, his expression unreadable. "if that's how you feel, then maybe you're right," he said, his tone flat. "maybe we're better off without each other."
the words hung between them, sharp and cold like the wind off the water. soobin felt a pang in his chest, an ache that settled deep inside him. he wanted to reach out, to take it back, to say something that would make it all okay. but the words wouldn't come, and he knew that even if they did, it wouldn't change anything.
they sat in silence as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shadows. finally, beomgyu stood, brushing the sand from his clothes.
"take care, soobin," he said, his voice soft, almost gentle. then he turned and walked away, his figure growing smaller and smaller until he disappeared into the darkness.
soobin sat alone on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore, relentless and unforgiving. he watched as the tide came in, washing over the footprints they'd left in the sand, erasing the last traces of what they'd once been.
930 words.
