Inspired by Songs.......Gongfourz Oneshots (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Heather

I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
Wish I were Heather

The crisp air of late autumn brushed against Leehan's cheeks as he sat on the park bench, eyes fixed on the two figures laughing beneath the maple tree. He hadn't intended to follow them here—it just happened. His heart betrayed him, pulling him along as if it knew something his head refused to acknowledge.

Taesan looked radiant as always, his dark eyes shining with a warmth Leehan both craved and feared. Beside him stood Heather, her golden hair cascading down her back like a halo. She was perfect—effortlessly kind, endlessly beautiful, and wearing his sweater.

Leehan's sweater.

Well, it used to be his.

He remembered the day he lent it to Taesan. It had been chilly, and Taesan had forgotten his own. Leehan had shrugged it off, trying to ignore the way his heart raced when Taesan smiled at him, slipping it on over his broad shoulders.

But now, it wasn't his sweater anymore. It was Heather's.

A soft laugh escaped her lips as she tugged at the oversized sleeves, her fingers barely peeking out. Taesan reached forward, fixing the collar for her, his touch lingering in a way that made Leehan's chest ache.

Leehan felt like he was drowning, each breath harder to take as he watched the scene unfold.

He hated Heather.
No, that wasn't fair. Heather had done nothing wrong. She was sweet, considerate, and kind to everyone she met.

He hated himself—for wanting what she had. For wishing it was him standing next to Taesan, wearing his sweater like it meant something. For wishing Taesan would look at him with the same tenderness he reserved for her.

"Leehan?"

The voice startled him. He turned to see Taesan walking toward him, his smile brighter than the golden leaves surrounding them. Heather lingered behind, her attention on her phone.

"You've been quiet lately. Everything okay?" Taesan asked, tilting his head in that way he always did when he was genuinely concerned.

Leehan forced a smile, his fingers gripping the edges of the bench. "Yeah, just... tired."

Taesan frowned, stepping closer. "You sure? You can tell me if something's wrong."

How could he explain it? How could he say, You're what's wrong. The way you make me feel is wrong. The way I want you is wrong.

Instead, he nodded, his gaze flickering to Heather. "I see you've been spending a lot of time with her lately."

Taesan chuckled, his cheeks tinting pink. "Yeah. She's amazing, isn't she?"

Leehan's heart cracked a little more. "She is."

For a moment, Taesan's expression softened, his eyes searching Leehan's face as if he could see the storm raging inside him. Then Heather called his name, and the spell broke.

"I'll catch you later, okay?" Taesan said, giving Leehan a quick pat on the shoulder before jogging back to her side.

As Leehan watched them leave, he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, wishing it was enough to shield him from the cold that had nothing to do with the weather.

Leehan spent the next few days avoiding Taesan. Every message was left unread; every call went unanswered. It wasn't fair to him—Leehan knew that. But it wasn't fair to himself either.

Every time he saw Taesan with Heather, it felt like a dagger twisting deeper into his chest. He didn't want to watch them anymore, didn't want to feel like he was suffocating under the weight of emotions he couldn't admit.

But Taesan didn't let things go easily.

One evening, just as the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, there was a knock at Leehan's door.

"Leehan, open up," Taesan called, his voice firm but laced with concern.

Leehan hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Part of him wanted to pretend he wasn't home, but another part—the part that still hoped—couldn't stay away.

When he opened the door, Taesan stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. His brows were furrowed, his arms crossed.

"Are you avoiding me?"

Leehan looked away, his hands trembling slightly. "No. I've just been busy."

"Busy ignoring me?" Taesan shot back, his voice sharp but not unkind.

Leehan flinched, guilt tightening in his chest. "I'm sorry, okay? I just needed some space."

"From me?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Leehan bit his lip, trying to keep his emotions in check. But when he met Taesan's gaze, the dam broke.

"Yes, from you!" he snapped, his voice cracking. "Because it hurts, Taesan. Watching you with her—it hurts more than I can explain."

Taesan's eyes widened, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

Leehan shook his head, tears threatening to spill. "You don't get it, do you? I—" He stopped himself, swallowing hard. "I can't keep doing this. Pretending I'm okay when I'm not."

Taesan stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Leehan, what are you trying to say?"

Leehan let out a bitter laugh, his hands clenching into fists. "It doesn't matter. You're happy with her, and that's all that matters, right?"

Before he could retreat, Taesan grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer. "Leehan, stop. Just... stop."

Leehan froze, his heart pounding as Taesan cupped his face gently, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I don't care about her sweater. I don't care about her. It's always been you."

The words hit Leehan like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless. "What... what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm an idiot for not seeing it sooner," Taesan murmured, his voice soft. "For not seeing you sooner."

And before Leehan could respond, Taesan closed the distance between them, his lips pressing against Leehan's in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as if trying to make up for all the time they'd lost.

Leehan melted into the kiss, his hands clutching at Taesan's sweater—the sweater that had always been his.

A/N; Thought I'd give a happy ending?