YOUTH. | JK | COMPLETE

it's nothing

BETTERRR
ORION SUN

I'll build a house on a hill
Away from all of the pain
And you could write a book about love
And i could write a song about rain and how
It falls upon the grass and how
I hate when you are mad at me and i
Hate that i say sorry more than most

I wanna be your best friend
Stickin it out with you 'till the end
I wanna know all of your dreams, and
If you have any dreams that involve me

I know the past has left you scarred
But turn around and look at how far you've come
So far you've come, so far
I know you don't need me
And i'm okay with that
Just give me a chance
I could do better, yeah
I know we're different but
I could do better, yeah
I know we're different but
That makes us better

So just give me, just
Give me a chance

EIGHT HOURS BEFORE.

It was just sex.

Haneul knows that much as she pulls a male nurse from the post-op floor into her apartment. She had met him a solid hour ago, and to say that things escalated quickly was an understatement. Haneul knows he is a nurse, knows his name is Lei Wooseok thanks to his name tag, and knows this is all just sex. Just something meaningless to get herself off.

Just. Sex.

If she knows it's just sex, then why is she feeling such overwhelming, crippling guilt?

Haneul also knows the answer to that question, as much as she hates to admit it.

Jeongguk. The thought of him makes her heart ache. It's been three months since she's seen him, and three months since their last substantial conversation. She told him to call her if he was struggling with his nightmares, and he had said he would, but the lack of calls is concerning. She knows she should be reassured by the lack of communication from Jeongguk in regards to his health, but in the romantic department, the silence was deafening. All she wants is to hear his smooth, light voice, to feel his big hands cupping either side of her face, to subconsciously bask in his warmth as he sleeps beside her.

And she could be the one to call him. She's equally at fault in their lack of communication.

But she's also beginning to question everything. Nothing about her own feelings, because Jeongguk has her wrapped around his little finger whether he knows it or not. But, about how realistic their relationship is. They live hours away from one another. They haven't spoken in months—hell, with how genuinely great Jeongguk is he could have already found someone much more interesting than her by now. The logical part of her knows Jeongguk wouldn't do that, but the illogical part of her is currently winning.

And then there's the soulmate situation. Every time Haneul even considers it, her stomach churns. It makes her sick knowing that soulmates, or rather, lack of one, causes so many people so much pain. She knows Jeongguk is only one of however many Wanderers discriminated against every day for something they can't control. She feels lied to, like soulmates were portrayed to her her whole life to be some magical fairytale, but for so many people, they make life a nightmare. Haneul doesn't know if she wants a soulmate anymore.

But beneath the newfound distaste for soulmates that plagues her, she feels it. As much as she doesn't want to let the universe dictate who she loves, she feels it already has decided for her. And that person is Jeongguk. And that's a dizzying mix of terror and exhilaration that Haneul doesn't quite know what to do with.