Tattoo ⚣ Jaeyong

[ chapter 1 ]

lee taeyong

when did it all start, i wonder.

no, not when - how did it all start.

perhaps it was the first time he spoke to me.

or maybe it was the way his eyes always wondered from my eyes to my lips whenever we would meet.

his blank stare always gave me chills. i was always hard whenever he was around - of course he would notice the bulge from my pants every time but he wouldn't say anything.

did it start the first time he held me. he was gentle and he whispered sweet words into my ears. his voice was warm and it ran like honey.

who fell first?

of course it would've been me. i always fall first.

but he fell harder. i could tell.

is he still thinking about me?

even though i am held by another man? he knows of this fact.

i was always looking. looking at other men whilst he was only looking at me.

why did he like me? did he truely love me like he said he did? if he did, why isn't he here with me now? why didn't he run after me when i said i had enough? why didn't he hold onto me tighter? did i misread the situation? did i make a fake image of him in my mind? was he even real?

these questions lingered in my mind no matter where i went. i would tell myself that i was over him - but was i really? deep down my heart aches for his warmth. the way his dimples were visibly seen when he smiled, oh how i wish to see that again.

why did it end?

it was me. it really was. i was a coward because i was afraid he would never love me 'til the end. i wanted him to chase me. but he wouldn't. i just knew he wouldn't.

because he's a good person who lets go when he needs to. if i told him to do something, he would do it if it made me happy.

i said i wanted to leave him. but i didn't really. when i turned around, i walked slowly so he would know i didn't really want to go. he knew but he still watched me.

if i walked out of this door, it would really be over for the both of us.

and so i did. i walked out of his life.

i cried several times. i wanted to run back but i had to face the consequences of my actions.

i still had his clothes. he didn't forget about them. he left them for me. perhaps this was his way of telling me to come back to him? but it was still too late.

i would go into my bed and i would lie down naked, surrounded by the clothes he wore. i would smell his shirt - it would always smell like him. i loved the way he smelt. i would get hard once again - like the first time i spoke to him.

i want to see him again. just one more time. i would tell him "did you know i came into your mouth last night?"

and he would laugh and ask if i wanted that.

i would say yes and we would make love all night.

and i would leave once again, whispering a small "i love you." before withering away - never to be seen again.

and so.

his tattoo was left on the palm of my hand.

it matched my tattoo which was on the other side of my hand.