Unlucky little monsters
Jeongguk considered himself a master of avoidance. It was easier to pretend problems didn't exist, brush them off, and keep moving forward. That way he didn't have to think. He could pretend everything was okay, that his hands weren't always shaking, that there wasn't a gaping void in his chest that left him constantly heaving for breath.
Avoiding Taehyung in the beginning had been relatively easy. Avoiding Taehyung when he was less than twenty feet away from him was damn near impossible. But in a twisted way, it was better. It was better to have Taehyung close by, invading his space, and Jeongguk could lash out, and everything was safe. Because in his mind, nothing he did could be as terrible as what Taehyung had done. Everything was in his control.
But when he's alone, Taehyung invades his thoughts. And with him somewhere on the other side of the world at a business conference (no Jeongguk didn't ask, Hoseok had mentioned it in passing, Jeongguk didn't care ), it left Jeongguk to his own devices, to mull over the conversation- - the yelling match-- that they had, and what Taehyung had said. How painful everything was, how lonely he was, and how terrified that made him.
There was a thin line between love and hate, and Jeongguk is slowly starting to realize that he doesn't quite know where he stands. He had figured, after all those years, he firmly hated Taehyung with all his being. But he made it so damn hard for Jeongguk to hate him, when he was constantly trying to apologize, take the higher ground. Maybe Jeongguk never hated him at all.
Maybe Jeongguk loved Taehyung so much that finding out Taehyung didn't love him back broke him, and it was easier to convince himself that he hated Taehyung, than to admit that after everything, he still cared. Because that was weakness. Jeongguk didn't need weakness. He didn't have time for it.
But he didn't want to keep torturing himself like this either. He'd heard Taehyung come home last night, the familiar beeping of the automatic lock, the rustle of a suitcase. Jeongguk physically had. to hold himself down to keep from getting up and going to Taehyung's door. He wouldn't know. what to say.
I'm sorry.
I'm a monster.
I don't deserve you or your forgiveness.
He doesn't know if he can bring himself to say that. Because once he does, Taehyung will be gone.
There would be nothing else to say. He'd lose Taehyung all over again. But deep down inside, Jeongguk knows that's not a good enough excuse. He never really wanted to hurt Taehyung. But he had, deeply. And he had to fix it.
He couldn't understand half the things Taehyung had told him. All he knew was that he needed to apologize, at least for the things he understood and knew he was responsible for. Maybe one day, he'd understand. Or maybe Taehyung wouldn't want anything to do with him, and he'd never. quite find out.
"Hey," a voice interrupts his thoughts and Jeongguk almost jolts in his seat. He looks up to see Taehyung approaching his table at the restaurant and taking the seat next to him. Immediately a. waiter is at his side, filling his glass with wine. Taehyung thanks the server graciously, and Jeongguk twists the cloth napkin in his lap.
"You're early," Taehyung notes, voice subdued, but trying very hard to sound light. Jeongguk knows it's his fault. His fault for creating this mess. He's responsible for the darkness under Taehyung's eyes, the hesitant movements.
"I'm always early," Jeongguk replies quietly, not daring to look up. If he does, then he's probably going to blurt out something really stupid and botch the delicate almost-truce they'd seemed to form without even thinking.
