bittersweet shorts

Hiraeth ▪︎ KTH/KSJ

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- h i r a e t h -

the feeling of homesickness for a home you can't return to, or a home that never was

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My restrictive black flats clunk against the oak floors as I slip them off, haphazardly discarding them into the shoe closet. I sigh in relief as my toes touch the cool floor for the first time in hours, separated only by the thin layer of nylon that covers my legs and disappears into my pencil skirt.

I've never enjoyed the days in which I had to work inside the office; it's too stuffy, and I think I would gladly take a bullet to the head rather than listen to watercooler talk. Adrenaline-filled, dangerously addictive fieldwork is more my style. I simultaneously unbutton the women's tuxedo and throw my handbag onto the granite countertops as a muted noise drifts down the hallway.

"Tae?" I call out, taking a tentative step forward. The muffled voices fall hush, only to give way to a shuffling sound coming from behind the closed door moments later.

Our bedroom.

I take several slow steps forward, until I stand only a few feet from the bedroom door. The noises erupt again, and I'm able to finally identify them as I stand only a mere three feet away.

Two voices.

Our bedroom.

I'm the one knocking.

My heart shatters as the door opens, revealing a familiar face I can hardly recognize, and a thin woman behind him. She clutches my bedsheets to her bare chest, the appalled look on her face nearly mirroring mine. But where surprise and fear rest in her eyes, betrayal lingers in mine. My gaze drifts to the tall, black-haired male standing in front of me, his ebony strands that I so adore sticking up wildly and his shirt wide open.

His wedding band is nowhere to be seen.

The bare mark on his finger is a shade lighter than the rest of the skin, showcasing its long-term residence.

Two years.

I was foolish enough to think we'd last longer.

You can't change a broken man; he's damaged beyond repair and I'm coming closer to that every day.

Tears spring to my eyes as I turn to leave, but his hand darts out to grab my arm before I'm able to flee the scene.

"Wait-"

"It's not what it looks like?" I cut him off, his eyes wide. "Is that what your excuse was going to be?"

His face falls, and he shakes his head.

"Three times," I hiss at him, more venom in my voice than that of a viper. "You've done this three times, and you expect me to forgive you? Am I really that horrible to be with?"

My voice cracks on the last syllable.

"Rae, you know I-" he starts, but I jerk my arm away and take a step back. Taehyung has the gall to look hurt, or even regretful.

"Am I really that undesirable to you? That worthless?" I shake my head, biting back bitter tears of disdain. "I'm done here. I'll have my stuff out by noon tomorrow."

I rip the diamond-encrusted weight from my finger, throwing it as far down the dark hallway as I can. The metallic clink of stone and silver contacting the floor seems too loud, and I seem to stare into the darkness longer than necessary.