The sky was the color of concrete—low and swollen with rain, but not quite ready to cry.
Hyunjin stood by the edge of the platform, motionless. One hand gripped the strap of his bag, the other hidden in the folds of his coat. His heart, quiet and dull, felt like it was thudding from somewhere far away.
He hadn’t said the words aloud.
Not yet.
But they played on a loop in his head, a whisper so loud it hollowed him out:
Did i really love him...or was it just loneliness i was trying to escape?
The ache of that question clung to his ribs like bruises. He didn’t know the answer—and that terrified him more than anything else.
Behind him, footsteps approached. He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.
Jeongin’s presence always changed the air.
Heavy silence settled between them, thick with what wasn’t being said. hyunjin could feel jeongin looking at him, but he couldn’t meet his gaze. Not when his hands were trembling like this. Not when the guilt was sitting so loud in his throat it choked every apology back down.
He had made promises. Stupid, glittering things. Forever, always, I'll never leave you.
But here he was. Standing on the edge of “I’m sorry” with no courage to say it.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
jeongin’s voice cut through the stillness. “You’re really leaving.”
Not a question. Just quiet resignation.
hyunjin nodded, but still didn’t look back. Because if he did, he might not go. And that would be crueler.
jeongin stepped closer. Just enough that hyunjin could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint cologne that lingered on his clothes—sandalwood and something darker. It made hyunjin’s eyes sting.
He wished he had loved jeongin the way jeongin deserved. Fierce. Full. Certain.
But the truth clawed at him: maybe all this time, he had been using jeongin’s love as a shield. To feel needed. To not be alone.
And wasn’t that the most selfish thing of all?
A part of him wanted jeongin to yell. To break. To hate him. It would make this easier.
But jeongin just stood there, calm like always. His stillness made the guilt in hyunjin's stomach twist.
“I don’t need an explanation,” jeongin said, voice cool but not cold. “Not anymore.”
hyunjin swallowed. That was the problem. He didn’t have one. Nothing that wouldn’t sound like a flimsy excuse or an echo of guilt.
“You can blame me,” hyunjin thought, but he didn’t say it. Please blame me. Make it easier to leave.
Because he had been the one to whisper forever. To kiss promises into skin he never deserved to touch.
And now, like a coward, he was walking away without offering the one thing jeongin always gave him: truth.
The train arrived, wheels shrieking, a mechanical cry louder than anything between them.
hyunjin moved toward the doors.
He didn’t say goodbye.
Not because he didn’t care.
But because the words would break him. And cowards don’t cry in front of the people they hurt.
The doors slid shut behind him.
jeongin didn’t move. Just stood there, eyes following hyunjin until the train disappeared into the gray.
---
That night, hyunjin sat in a new apartment filled with silence and unfamiliar walls. He stared out the window and finally let the tears fall.
He pressed his palm to his chest and whispered:
was it ever love...or was i just afraid to be alone?
No one answered.
Because he had already said goodbye
—in the quietest, cruelest way he knew how.
---
i miss hyunin sm especially while listening to this song TT
