like glass, like crystal, like an orchestra
title: like glass, like crystal, like an orchestra
pairing: raine/jongin
rating: g
“she would like this,” he says to himself. thinks, really, because he doesn't really speak out loud any more, not since her, not since she bid good-bye and see you when i see you, only to not be ever seen again. he goes inside the store and buys the skirt, sees an intricately carved wooden box and buys that too, then he leaves, shopping bag in hand, and walks back to his apartment. he shoves the bag in a corner of his closet where the rest of the gifts are, gifts to never be given, gifts whose purpose is to please but will only ever stay in the same part of the closet untouched.
he doesn't even know if she would like them, he thinks she would but he doesn't know because she's a mystery, she's unpredictable and surprising and interesting and, most importantly, not there. because it is, isn't it? it's the most important, it's the least desired fact, the least he wants to dwell on, but it's the most important. because she's not there to warm the spot beside him at night, not there to greet him in the morning (afternoon, actually, because both of them sleep in all the time and both of them really don't care), not there to make him coffee and watch him smile as she drinks her tea. and that's the trouble, he tells himself for the nth time in the third phase of his life (first phase: before the storm, second phase: raine, third phase: the aftermath). the trouble is is that he expects her to do things, to be sweet and nice and do things couples do, expects her to be someone she isn't, when all he should ever do is let her be her, let her call him names but not mean it, let her love in her own way, let her be the person he fell in love with in the first place. that's the trouble, the mistake, the reason for the fall out.
it's a stupid reason, he knows. he should have known then, too. but stupid means stupid, and maybe he really is an idiot. she has never been the type of girl he's used to, has never been the type of girl to wrap herself around his finger and just fall. she has always, always been the type of girl to stand up for herself, the type of girl to tell him he's wrong when he's wrong, the type of girl to say let's take a break, this isn't working right now. let's take a break and see each other in a month.
he's stopped expecting to see her now, on the streets they used to roam together, pushing each other around and laughing. he's stopped thinking they'll bump into each other in the coffee shop they used to frequent, share smiles and say hey, how have you been? and all that cliché crap because if he's learnt anything in their relationship, it's to not expect anything.
and yet he yearns, he still wants - wants to meet her in a store or in a party or anywhere, he's just desperate now, has been for a long time, because he misses her. he misses her so much and it's been more than a year, god fucking dammit, jongin, it's been more than a year.
he knows by now that there's no use in pretending, no use in trying to get over her because she's a part of him now and how do you remove a part of yourself when you know it's gonna hurt like cutting off a limb, so he doesn't try. and, well, that's another thing he's learnt in their relationship - he never tries. for all the hard work he's done in his life to become a dancer, you would think he tries in relationships but he just doesn't. because he's used to not having to, used to getting tired of people easily and used to having people throw themselves at him, so when he finally falls in love with someone he doesn't know how to try. and the funny thing is that he doesn't even try to know how.
+
they meet in a dance studio. both of them in tights and wearing ballet shoes. he sees that she's not in toe shoes and immediately thinks she's an easy target. he has never been more wrong in his life.
he walks up to her and puts his hand on her waist and starts to dance with her, but she pulls apart and gives him a judging look coupled with furrowed eyebrows.
"who are you?" she asks him, and he smiles but it easily falters when he sees her look doesn't soften.
"i'm jongin," he replies, extending his hand to shake, and she looks at it and cocks her head to the side before finally shaking it, albeit very briefly.
"that's nice." she pauses, about to turn away when she sighs and continues, "i'm raine."
+
every time he thinks it's finally time to clean out his closet, things happen. things like rehearsals and stress and regret and a refusal to let go. what is there to let go of, anyway? he can throw out all of the gifts he's bought over the past months but what will it do? will it get rid of the ache in his chest when he hears her name? will it stop him from getting out of breath when the rain comes and he starts imagining how she looked that night - drenched and cold and happy; and how she tasted - like water and green tea and a little hint of brown sugar? he can give all of her things away - things she knows she left at his place and things she doesn't know she owns - but he can never take their memories out of his mind. he can never let go, and he's never going to try.
+
they start dating because jongin is a very talkative and extremely expressive drunk, and raine is actually helpful despite her constant laughing and calling him stupid.
"y'know," jongin begins to slur, and raine immediately knows she's in for a ride. "there's... something... about you. something. you. you are amazing. wonderful, even. sooooo good. how d'you do that? it's like... like, you're so different? you're so refreshing. like, when you get hit with cold water when it's hot. that's you. you're cold water."
"nice to know," raine replies, chuckling at him and all of his idiocy.
jongin grins at her and then, "i like you, i think."
"wow, you're drunk," she tells him, smiling. "i think i like you too, though."
+
he does it, eventually. his friend puts up a donation box for the less fortunate and he sees it inside their studio, tells himself maybe it's time to get rid of certain things and pass it on to others. who knows, it could be a blessing to them. he gives away three pairs of shoes and a medium-sized box of clothes, four chairs, a bedside table, and a clock. he doesn't give away the pile of dresses and skirts and jewelry he has in his closet, because he's convinced himself that if she can't have them no-one but him can, because it's a part of himself that he will never be able to let go of - because it's also a part of her.
but he organises them, stacks them in piles by type - skirts, tops, shorts, dresses, socks, shoes, jewelry, toys, miscellaneous stuff, pictures of places i want to share with you. he thinks to himself that it's an experience, he's not sure if it's a good one or a bad one, doesn't really know what his tightening chest and his inability to breathe means. tears flow slowly from his eyes as he thinks of the way she smiles and how her hands feel on him and how he always feels so lucky to just breathe the same air as her. he thinks the crushing feeling in his chest is the feeling of missing her, the lack of breath a want to be by her side again. he decides if he misses her so much maybe he should do something about it, for once.
+
he's always known that it's not her dream to be a dancer, that although she loves ballet she doesn't have the same passion for it as him, doesn't want to spend her life on stage dancing even if she enjoys it. he knows she's always had bigger plans, he just didn't expect those plans to still be in action without him.
"this is the problem, jongin," she starts. she's not shouting but she might as well be, each word piercing his heart like a dagger. "we are together, and i love you. there is a we, but you do not own me. my life will go on with or without you, as sad as that is. we can't let ourselves stay at the same place because of one another. we're supposed to help each other up, not hold each other down."
what he says: "okay, leave korea. but you're not leaving me."
what he doesn't say: "we may not own each other, but we hold a part of each other in our bodies. you have taken a piece of me i can never get back, and inside me is your memories and everything we've ever done. maybe life goes on whether or not we're together, but the fact that it goes on does not make your absence less painful."
+
he packs up his bags. he dumps all of her gifts in a box and writes a letter, dumps that letter into the box as well, then looks around his apartment, then at the time on his phone. he digs up a piece of paper wrinkled with overuse and hopes to god she's still in the same place, that she's as constant in manila as she was a year ago, hopes to god that it's not only in his heart she decided to stay.
while digging up the paper with her address scribbled on it, he digs up his courage, lost seventeen months ago in a storm more commonly known by her first name: raine.
it isn't that it's her fault he lost it, it's his own, everything has always been his own fault in this relationship. save for the time she almost set his kitchen on fire trying to cook, but everything major - every major fault has always been his, and she has always been the one to do everything perfectly. for once, he hopes, it's time for him to do something perfect for her.
+
she gets offered a full-time modelling job back in the philippines and she tells him over take-out dinner that she's considering it.
"you're gonna leave, then?" he asks, a knot in his throat as he talked.
"i might," is her nonchalant answer, and it confuses him how she can talk about this so casually when the thought of her leaving makes him feel like hell.
"you're leaving me here?" he tries to joke, his voice cracking at the end and letting his pain seep through.
"you could come with me."
"i don't. i- i don't..."
"you don't want to?"
"i want to, but i can't. i have a life here."
"you can have a life there, too."
"i'm afraid."
"don't be. i'm right here."
+
he realises only when he's seated in the airplane that he cannot make this perfect. he has postponed it far too long - maybe he's stretched it out so long that it will no longer work. but he's trying now, that's the point. if she doesn't let him in her life again, then that's okay. it's an experience and a lesson learnt.
+
jongin, it's been a month now. i think we're ready to try again. visit me in manila. i'll be waiting for you.
it's the fifty-seventh time jongin reads the letter, it's the fortieth day since he's gotten it, it's the millionth time he beats himself up for this, because raine is in a different country and he's scared to leave his life. a lot of times in his life he's wanted to run away, to get a new start and here it is, handed to him by the one person he would drop everything for, but his body still can't move.
he doesn't understand, because her absence is swallowing him whole and he could hop on a plane and make the absence go away, make the nightmares stop with the feel of her body beside him, but he's afraid to leave the life he has in korea for the girl who made him see the meaning of his life in the first place. she taught him how to be carefree, how to take chances, how to try something at least once, but here he is in his apartment with a lack of raine, a lack of happiness, and an abundance of heartache.
+
she's still in manila. she's still sharing a house with a few of her friends, she's still bright and beautiful, she's still smiling the way he remembers. he learns this when he rings their doorbell and she opens the door, and her confused voice saying, who is it? is nothing compared to how confused her face looks when she sees him standing there.
"you're here," she says in disbelief. to be fair, he wouldn't believe it either if she showed up in his apartment out of the blue one morning.
"i'm here."
"i -"
"raine, i'm sorry. really, really sorry. for everything i've done. raine, i am ver-"
"shut up and just come in."
+
dear raine,
the past few months have been a blur of lazing around and a lack of fun. also a lack of you.
a lot of random shopping though, as you can see. i'd be on my way home from the studio and i'd find something for you and i would just buy it. it's a thing i'm trying to change. i think you deserve to have them, since they're yours anyway.
i was scared for a very long time to leave my life here. i'm sorry for that.
i have a lot of things to be sorry for. like how i treated you. like you were just a thought in my mind and not an actual person.
i'm also sorry for wallowing so much in my sadness. i saw a book saying that some things can live without one thing, but that one thing can't live without the other. i felt for a while that was us. you said that life went on with or without someone, and i guess that's true for you. but i felt for some time that it wasn't for me. i learnt later on that life does go on. it just crushes your heart and makes your legs feel heavy when you walk, but life goes on.
and in life, we make choices.
i think i'd like life to go on with you by my side.
+ a bit of an open ending, i guess, so you can think anything of the ending, anything you want. but my headcanon is that raine forgives jongin and they get back together and everything is good again.
+ prompt and title taken from this
pairing: raine/jongin
rating: g
“she would like this,” he says to himself. thinks, really, because he doesn't really speak out loud any more, not since her, not since she bid good-bye and see you when i see you, only to not be ever seen again. he goes inside the store and buys the skirt, sees an intricately carved wooden box and buys that too, then he leaves, shopping bag in hand, and walks back to his apartment. he shoves the bag in a corner of his closet where the rest of the gifts are, gifts to never be given, gifts whose purpose is to please but will only ever stay in the same part of the closet untouched.
he doesn't even know if she would like them, he thinks she would but he doesn't know because she's a mystery, she's unpredictable and surprising and interesting and, most importantly, not there. because it is, isn't it? it's the most important, it's the least desired fact, the least he wants to dwell on, but it's the most important. because she's not there to warm the spot beside him at night, not there to greet him in the morning (afternoon, actually, because both of them sleep in all the time and both of them really don't care), not there to make him coffee and watch him smile as she drinks her tea. and that's the trouble, he tells himself for the nth time in the third phase of his life (first phase: before the storm, second phase: raine, third phase: the aftermath). the trouble is is that he expects her to do things, to be sweet and nice and do things couples do, expects her to be someone she isn't, when all he should ever do is let her be her, let her call him names but not mean it, let her love in her own way, let her be the person he fell in love with in the first place. that's the trouble, the mistake, the reason for the fall out.
it's a stupid reason, he knows. he should have known then, too. but stupid means stupid, and maybe he really is an idiot. she has never been the type of girl he's used to, has never been the type of girl to wrap herself around his finger and just fall. she has always, always been the type of girl to stand up for herself, the type of girl to tell him he's wrong when he's wrong, the type of girl to say let's take a break, this isn't working right now. let's take a break and see each other in a month.
he's stopped expecting to see her now, on the streets they used to roam together, pushing each other around and laughing. he's stopped thinking they'll bump into each other in the coffee shop they used to frequent, share smiles and say hey, how have you been? and all that cliché crap because if he's learnt anything in their relationship, it's to not expect anything.
and yet he yearns, he still wants - wants to meet her in a store or in a party or anywhere, he's just desperate now, has been for a long time, because he misses her. he misses her so much and it's been more than a year, god fucking dammit, jongin, it's been more than a year.
he knows by now that there's no use in pretending, no use in trying to get over her because she's a part of him now and how do you remove a part of yourself when you know it's gonna hurt like cutting off a limb, so he doesn't try. and, well, that's another thing he's learnt in their relationship - he never tries. for all the hard work he's done in his life to become a dancer, you would think he tries in relationships but he just doesn't. because he's used to not having to, used to getting tired of people easily and used to having people throw themselves at him, so when he finally falls in love with someone he doesn't know how to try. and the funny thing is that he doesn't even try to know how.
+
they meet in a dance studio. both of them in tights and wearing ballet shoes. he sees that she's not in toe shoes and immediately thinks she's an easy target. he has never been more wrong in his life.
he walks up to her and puts his hand on her waist and starts to dance with her, but she pulls apart and gives him a judging look coupled with furrowed eyebrows.
"who are you?" she asks him, and he smiles but it easily falters when he sees her look doesn't soften.
"i'm jongin," he replies, extending his hand to shake, and she looks at it and cocks her head to the side before finally shaking it, albeit very briefly.
"that's nice." she pauses, about to turn away when she sighs and continues, "i'm raine."
+
every time he thinks it's finally time to clean out his closet, things happen. things like rehearsals and stress and regret and a refusal to let go. what is there to let go of, anyway? he can throw out all of the gifts he's bought over the past months but what will it do? will it get rid of the ache in his chest when he hears her name? will it stop him from getting out of breath when the rain comes and he starts imagining how she looked that night - drenched and cold and happy; and how she tasted - like water and green tea and a little hint of brown sugar? he can give all of her things away - things she knows she left at his place and things she doesn't know she owns - but he can never take their memories out of his mind. he can never let go, and he's never going to try.
+
they start dating because jongin is a very talkative and extremely expressive drunk, and raine is actually helpful despite her constant laughing and calling him stupid.
"y'know," jongin begins to slur, and raine immediately knows she's in for a ride. "there's... something... about you. something. you. you are amazing. wonderful, even. sooooo good. how d'you do that? it's like... like, you're so different? you're so refreshing. like, when you get hit with cold water when it's hot. that's you. you're cold water."
"nice to know," raine replies, chuckling at him and all of his idiocy.
jongin grins at her and then, "i like you, i think."
"wow, you're drunk," she tells him, smiling. "i think i like you too, though."
+
he does it, eventually. his friend puts up a donation box for the less fortunate and he sees it inside their studio, tells himself maybe it's time to get rid of certain things and pass it on to others. who knows, it could be a blessing to them. he gives away three pairs of shoes and a medium-sized box of clothes, four chairs, a bedside table, and a clock. he doesn't give away the pile of dresses and skirts and jewelry he has in his closet, because he's convinced himself that if she can't have them no-one but him can, because it's a part of himself that he will never be able to let go of - because it's also a part of her.
but he organises them, stacks them in piles by type - skirts, tops, shorts, dresses, socks, shoes, jewelry, toys, miscellaneous stuff, pictures of places i want to share with you. he thinks to himself that it's an experience, he's not sure if it's a good one or a bad one, doesn't really know what his tightening chest and his inability to breathe means. tears flow slowly from his eyes as he thinks of the way she smiles and how her hands feel on him and how he always feels so lucky to just breathe the same air as her. he thinks the crushing feeling in his chest is the feeling of missing her, the lack of breath a want to be by her side again. he decides if he misses her so much maybe he should do something about it, for once.
+
he's always known that it's not her dream to be a dancer, that although she loves ballet she doesn't have the same passion for it as him, doesn't want to spend her life on stage dancing even if she enjoys it. he knows she's always had bigger plans, he just didn't expect those plans to still be in action without him.
"this is the problem, jongin," she starts. she's not shouting but she might as well be, each word piercing his heart like a dagger. "we are together, and i love you. there is a we, but you do not own me. my life will go on with or without you, as sad as that is. we can't let ourselves stay at the same place because of one another. we're supposed to help each other up, not hold each other down."
what he says: "okay, leave korea. but you're not leaving me."
what he doesn't say: "we may not own each other, but we hold a part of each other in our bodies. you have taken a piece of me i can never get back, and inside me is your memories and everything we've ever done. maybe life goes on whether or not we're together, but the fact that it goes on does not make your absence less painful."
+
he packs up his bags. he dumps all of her gifts in a box and writes a letter, dumps that letter into the box as well, then looks around his apartment, then at the time on his phone. he digs up a piece of paper wrinkled with overuse and hopes to god she's still in the same place, that she's as constant in manila as she was a year ago, hopes to god that it's not only in his heart she decided to stay.
while digging up the paper with her address scribbled on it, he digs up his courage, lost seventeen months ago in a storm more commonly known by her first name: raine.
it isn't that it's her fault he lost it, it's his own, everything has always been his own fault in this relationship. save for the time she almost set his kitchen on fire trying to cook, but everything major - every major fault has always been his, and she has always been the one to do everything perfectly. for once, he hopes, it's time for him to do something perfect for her.
+
she gets offered a full-time modelling job back in the philippines and she tells him over take-out dinner that she's considering it.
"you're gonna leave, then?" he asks, a knot in his throat as he talked.
"i might," is her nonchalant answer, and it confuses him how she can talk about this so casually when the thought of her leaving makes him feel like hell.
"you're leaving me here?" he tries to joke, his voice cracking at the end and letting his pain seep through.
"you could come with me."
"i don't. i- i don't..."
"you don't want to?"
"i want to, but i can't. i have a life here."
"you can have a life there, too."
"i'm afraid."
"don't be. i'm right here."
+
he realises only when he's seated in the airplane that he cannot make this perfect. he has postponed it far too long - maybe he's stretched it out so long that it will no longer work. but he's trying now, that's the point. if she doesn't let him in her life again, then that's okay. it's an experience and a lesson learnt.
+
jongin, it's been a month now. i think we're ready to try again. visit me in manila. i'll be waiting for you.
it's the fifty-seventh time jongin reads the letter, it's the fortieth day since he's gotten it, it's the millionth time he beats himself up for this, because raine is in a different country and he's scared to leave his life. a lot of times in his life he's wanted to run away, to get a new start and here it is, handed to him by the one person he would drop everything for, but his body still can't move.
he doesn't understand, because her absence is swallowing him whole and he could hop on a plane and make the absence go away, make the nightmares stop with the feel of her body beside him, but he's afraid to leave the life he has in korea for the girl who made him see the meaning of his life in the first place. she taught him how to be carefree, how to take chances, how to try something at least once, but here he is in his apartment with a lack of raine, a lack of happiness, and an abundance of heartache.
+
she's still in manila. she's still sharing a house with a few of her friends, she's still bright and beautiful, she's still smiling the way he remembers. he learns this when he rings their doorbell and she opens the door, and her confused voice saying, who is it? is nothing compared to how confused her face looks when she sees him standing there.
"you're here," she says in disbelief. to be fair, he wouldn't believe it either if she showed up in his apartment out of the blue one morning.
"i'm here."
"i -"
"raine, i'm sorry. really, really sorry. for everything i've done. raine, i am ver-"
"shut up and just come in."
+
dear raine,
the past few months have been a blur of lazing around and a lack of fun. also a lack of you.
a lot of random shopping though, as you can see. i'd be on my way home from the studio and i'd find something for you and i would just buy it. it's a thing i'm trying to change. i think you deserve to have them, since they're yours anyway.
i was scared for a very long time to leave my life here. i'm sorry for that.
i have a lot of things to be sorry for. like how i treated you. like you were just a thought in my mind and not an actual person.
i'm also sorry for wallowing so much in my sadness. i saw a book saying that some things can live without one thing, but that one thing can't live without the other. i felt for a while that was us. you said that life went on with or without someone, and i guess that's true for you. but i felt for some time that it wasn't for me. i learnt later on that life does go on. it just crushes your heart and makes your legs feel heavy when you walk, but life goes on.
and in life, we make choices.
i think i'd like life to go on with you by my side.
+ a bit of an open ending, i guess, so you can think anything of the ending, anything you want. but my headcanon is that raine forgives jongin and they get back together and everything is good again.
+ prompt and title taken from this