and you'd really rather not deal with someone like him for another lifetime or two;
KiSung, Donghae/Yesung(bestfriend)
flangst(?)
PG/ 4,566 words
first post, i'm sorry beforehand xD
please comment <33
There’s someone there when you sleep, always, as if you hadn’t already had enough of him. You like to think you had.
And he’s always just there, as he would be, on a normal day. Responding to your texts, sometimes, sometimes not. Acknowledging your existence, sometimes, sometimes not. Just always smiling, always just there, as himself, nothing else; you are nothing special to him.
He strikes you as some historical figure on display in a museum, or perhaps a pile of evolutionary bones of some sort. Behind glass, so easily seen, but just to see. Something so easily forgotten, but you never forget. Something there to experience, gawk at, whatever you wanted, but as untouchable as anything could ever be.
You’ve known him for well over two years now, and everything about him is still confusing, or, at least, confuses you, until you think you just might as well not bother. It’d sure as hell make life that much more livable. Sometimes, you feel like asking him, exactly what the hell is going on in his mind… but you know him well enough (but really not at all) to know that he’ll slip out of it if he wanted to, leaving you dejected, and a step backwards from square one.
And just when you think you’ve jumped to square number you don’t even know, everything spins and blurs, and you’re back on the other side of the glass before you have time to figure our where you ended up, this time.
It makes you think that, when he looks like he’s genuinely being truthful, he’s not really, that he’ll just retreat once more, making you take off after him again, afraid to lose sight of his face, and it really isn’t fair. It makes you think that he’s just putting up with you for one reason, and that reason, is your best friend.
You were best friends, yes. You remember when he first started talking about him, how you knew him from training days. And you vaguely remember it starting (because it’s been so long), this prolonged cycle of riddles and games that may or may not be your own hallucinations.
And it’d be the biggest lie of your life to say that you aren’t attracted to him. You won’t go as far as to say you love him, but you’d like to keep it that way. You won’t let it happen, and quite easily, you stop yourself. You would never let yourself step out of line like that.
And when they lose themselves in their teasing, in their happy world, you feel little pieces of your resolve falling off, and leaving peeks of your screaming thoughts out. Then you lag behind them all, unnoticed, because you have to stop to collect the pieces and place them back carefully over the cracks in yourself, as reluctant as you may be to do it, and as much as you want to just let yourself scream.
And he tells you that you’re imagining things, and that you really are someone important to him. But he’ll never know because he’s special to him. And that just makes you think that saying something false should be considered a lie, even when they think they’re telling you the truth.
On the rare occasion that he’s down, and he needs people, you try, try your hardest to be one of them. And when he says that he’s so glad he has you all, it hurts because you know he’s not talking about you.
And you don’t even know why you fucking care so much, but it bothers you. It bothers you that you aren’t needed.
And as you discover that his kisses are as deep as oceans, and as sweet and free as love, and wait. The realization hits you; that ‘love’ is exactly what this must be. Then all you can think of as your world swirls, and the twinge of your heart pains you, is something like Oh.
And it hits you with more surprise than a stranger walking up and saying Hi, I love you, because these kinds of things just don’t happen in reality (but then, when has your life ever gone the way you thought it would?)
His features still haunt you with the dull comprehension, from the curve of his smile, to the black of his eyes, and you think it’s a little bit like understanding calculus: utterly and absolutely unfathomable.
You manage to forget every so often, convince yourself that you’ve made a mistake (somehow), and it’s then that he decides to share another secret thing he loves about you in whispered secrets that make icy shivers run along your body.
But even when the thrill of a quick kiss sends your heart in double-time, even on rainy days, when you feel more and more willing to set your heart on a platter, singing your heart out on stage hoping he can hear you backstage, all for him; even then, you have to debate whether or not you’re going to forgive him for this.