UNSPOKEN LOVE | GYURAE (GYUVIN & TAERAE)

07.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into months. The silence between Taerae and Gyuvin had solidified into something almost unbreakable like an invisible wall neither of them dared to cross. At first, Taerae had hoped that maybe Gyuvin would come around, that this was just a phase, but as time passed, that hope withered into something bitter.

Gyuvin had made his choice.

The morning drives were now just distant memories, replaced by the quiet hum of Taerae’s own car, where only his thoughts accompanied him. The passenger seat, once filled with Gyuvin’s sleepy grumbles and playful remarks, now felt cold and empty. The absence was suffocating, but Taerae convinced himself that he needed to move on.. that it wasn’t a big deal.

Except it was.

Every morning, when he parked at college, he’d see Gyuvin and Ricky walking together. The way Gyuvin would laugh at something Ricky said, the way they leaned into each other like they were in their own world... it was like watching a scene he used to be a part of but was now forcibly removed from. And no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the ache in his chest only grew.

At first, Taerae thought about reaching out, maybe asking Gyuvin what had gone wrong between them. But every time he thought about it, fear crept in. What if Gyuvin had simply outgrown him? What if he didn’t care anymore?

So, Taerae did what he always did... he put on a smile and acted like nothing was wrong.

----------

Their friendship, once so easy and effortless, now felt like a puzzle with missing pieces. Conversations that used to flow naturally had turned into brief, awkward exchanges or worse, complete silence. When they crossed paths, neither of them made an effort to speak.

If Taerae saw Gyuvin in the hallway, he’d glance away before their eyes could meet. If Gyuvin walked past him, he wouldn’t even slow down. They had perfected the art of pretending the other didn’t exist, even though both of them felt the weight of it.

Matthew, always the one to notice, grew increasingly frustrated.

"You’re really just gonna let this happen?" Matthew asked one day, crossing his arms as he leaned against Taerae’s locker.

Taerae didn’t answer right away. He just stared at his books, pretending to be busy.

"It’s not like I have a choice," he finally muttered.

Matthew sighed. "You do, though. You could talk to him."

Taerae let out a dry laugh. "Talk about what? That he replaced me? That he doesn’t need me anymore?"

"You don’t know that-"

"I do," Taerae interrupted, his voice sharper than intended. He exhaled, forcing himself to calm down. "If he wanted to talk to me, he would’ve. But he doesn’t. So why should I be the one to keep trying?"

Matthew didn’t have an answer to that.

Instead, he just watched as Taerae walked away, his shoulders a little lower than before.

---------

At first, Taerae had tried to tell himself that he was fine. He threw himself into other friendships, tried to keep himself busy with school and music, but no matter what he did, there was always something missing.

He hated how much it still hurt.

He hated how his chest tightened every time he saw Gyuvin and Ricky together.

He hated how, despite everything, a part of him still wanted to reach out.

But pride and fear held him back.

If Gyuvin wanted space, then Taerae would give it to him.

And so, without realizing it, Taerae started to fade into the background. He stopped lingering in places he knew Gyuvin would be. He stopped waiting for him between classes, stopped looking in his direction, stopped letting his heart leap at the possibility that maybe just maybe.... Gyuvin would speak first.

He convinced himself it was easier this way.

But it didn’t feel easier.

It felt like losing something he never wanted to let go of.

---------

On the other side, Gyuvin told himself he was doing the right thing. He had made his decision. He had chosen to distance himself, to put an end to the confusion inside him.

But then why did he feel so miserable?

He thought that staying away would make things easier. That if he avoided Taerae long enough, the feelings he didn’t understand would eventually fade. But instead, the distance only made him miss him more.

Gyuvin would catch himself glancing at Taerae during lectures, wondering if he was okay. He’d overhear someone mention his name and feel his chest tighten. He’d hear a song they used to sing together, and suddenly, the air around him felt heavier.

There were so many times he wanted to turn back... to say something, anything... but then he’d remember why he started distancing himself in the first place.

What if Taerae didn’t feel the same?

What if this weird, unexplainable feeling was one-sided?

What if getting close again only made it worse?

So Gyuvin did what he thought was best.

He ignored the way his heart clenched whenever Taerae passed by without looking at him. He ignored the way their silence felt suffocating, the way every laugh shared with Ricky felt hollow compared to the ones he used to share with Taerae.

He told himself this was the right choice.

Even when it didn’t feel like it.

----------

And so, the distance between them remained.

Taerae, convinced that Gyuvin no longer needed him, buried his feelings and focused on surviving each day.

Gyuvin, trapped in his own confusion, kept pushing him away, even though it hurt.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them reached out.

And with every passing day, their friendship... the one they had once thought was unbreakable... became nothing more than a memory.

A bond that had once been their comfort now felt like a wound that refused to heal.

And neither of them knew how to fix it.