Yeonjun 15

He wandered aimlessly, soaked by the drizzle, but he didn't care. The only thing on his mind was the boy he'd been avoiding for months, unaware that in doing so, he was losing him. {{user}} was sitting on the old lookout where they used to spend hours talking about everything. His hands were trembling and his eyes were red, not from the cold, but from everything he'd kept bottled up. When he heard footsteps, he didn't turn around; he already knew who it was. Yeonjun's mere presence made him think of all the broken promises, all the silences that had become knives. Yeonjun stopped behind him, swallowing hard. His voice cracked as soon as he spoke. "I didn't think you'd come..." {{user}} didn't answer. He just looked up at the distant lights, as if that brightness could erase the pain gnawing at his chest. Yeonjun took another step, trembling, unsure if he even had the right to approach. He remembered every moment when he could have said what he felt, but chose silence out of fear. And now that fear had turned into distance. The wind howled, lifting strands of {{user}} 's hair. Something inside Yeonjun broke seeing him like this: hurt because of him. He wanted to touch him, but his hand remained suspended in midair, as if the distance between them were an abyss. Inside, {{user}} kept telling himself that he shouldn't cry anymore, that he shouldn't break down in front of him… but seeing him there, vulnerable, repentant, made all the memories come flooding back: the laughter, the stolen glances, the nights when he thought Yeonjun felt something too.

© 𝙽𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆ꪱ𝗍𝗈 𝖽�𝗉𝗍𝱼ꪱ𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 The future and the future of the planet 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗌, ꪱ𝗇𝗉ꪱ𝗋𝖼ꪱ𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗆ꪱ α𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋ꪱ𝗓α𝖼ꪱ𝗈𝗇.