blur | jaeyong

END

c l e a r ;

nothing in life is like a fairytale—no way everything would be a touch of heaven and a pot of gold after a twist in plot.

yoonoh was in love, taeyong was in love, but it didn't mean that—even though their hearts reconnected and bound them as one, even though they touched and kissed and cried with 'I love you' on their lips—everything would be paradise.

there was a bridge between them, it'd burned and fell apart, and no one could fix it if the person on the other side was missing. when yoonoh had returned, more so pressed and wished to force himself back into taeyong's life until he just was, they began to rebuild—with bricks and gold and silver and diamonds and steel and wholehearted care.

taeyong too was repairing it, washing away burn marks to reveal gold and cleaning up debris to show clear waters—but there was a gap in the middle of the bridge.

jaehyun and taeyong could touch hands, kiss and hug over the gap, share love and joyful tears with words to pair, but the gap would always be there.

and, as much as taeyong wanted to walk over it, he was afraid that he would drown, that all his memories, left on his side, would burn; and his feet would slip through the gap.

from the other side, yoonoh didn't feel he was of status to help, he felt like he was made to sit and watch as the gap filled naturally, on its own accord—so what more was left to do, other than mourn?

so he cries, he weeps and wails from the other side, from his side, just waiting and waiting. he cries and cries—but not because he was struck with anger, not because he himself was harmful to himself—but because acceptance is key, and taeyong didn't have it in him to even speak the word.

jung jaehyun cries, because taeyong wasn't and couldn't let himself over the gap.

there was something in him that just wouldn't accept the reality, maybe a part of his mind told him that it wasn't true—that there was no way the sight he'd been gifted from the womb was slowly but surely disappearing.

so he cries—and taeyong lies with him as he cries, not even a clue as to how badly he could affect such a carefree man, no idea how much he meant to yoonoh—but he holds him and lets him cry, and soothes with his best intentions.

"it'll be okay, whatever it is." he says, but, god, he's clueless.

yoonoh cries harder.

"it won't," he mumbles back, just loud enough for the elder to hear, just loud enough to make his point clear, "you'll still be blind, love."

because, jaehyun had realized those days of taeyong quaking, sobbing pitifully into his chest—that they weren't of sudden sorrow and utter upset with the life he had to live; but of denial and tire of the unacceptable truth.

"but I'm not blind."

he pulls himself away, leaving yoonoh's arms empty, and his tears just a bit more meaningful.

"I'm not."

❦

whenever either of them faced conflicts, there was a place to escape to, each other when they were younger, the treehouse for taeyong, the office for yoonoh—and now, their conflicts were solved at a bar.

taeyong was fond of thinking when they made their way to the first place of hidden outlooks (the treehouse, of course), he liked to let his mind wander, he always did. time moved faster then, but he always ended up with surplus feelings he had yet learned to deal with.