SILENCE
This came to me in light of Geng's contract termination rumours. I know there has been an influx of fanfiction regarding this, but many of them seem to be pairing orientated and makes me want to burst into tears and i did not want to add to that. But there have been comments on the net that have made me so frustrated and upset that I had to write this. Hankyung is not a selfish, ungrateful gold-digger and this is just something that explores another possible reason. I don't believe this to be at all true, but I am merely suggesting that it may not be just because he is greedy, there are infite possibilities. HANKYUNG FIGHTING!
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SILENCE
The silence was the worst. More deafening than shouting and more piercing than screams, it was where the looks that said all the things that would never normally be spoken, were exchanged. The ones that hurt enough that they can not just be forgotten or forgiven. It was in silence, that hearts were broken.
He remembered the silence of a time not so long ago. Maybe years ago, maybe days ago or maybe a mere heartbeat ago. He doesn’t remember when or where, only the silence that was around him, within him. It had been utterly silent, it was as if even the soft breathing of the people had been smothered by someone or something so not to distract from the complete desolation of the moment.
He remembered wide, shocked eyes, tearful, pleading eyes, narrowed, disbelieving eyes. He wanted to shut his eyes and his ears, because the question held in those eyes seared through his heart and such was the intensity, that he thought he heard the crescendo of pain those eyes played at him. He knew they wanted him to deny it (after all, it was ridiculous that he would want to leave for money of all things), that a simple sentence and they would have believed and everything would be exactly the way it had always been. He didn’t break the silence, not even when there were long hands gripping tightly at his collar and soft hands tugging at his sleeve. He added to it instead, with apologetic bows and hollow eyes that explained nothing. Then it wasn’t silent anymore, because there was the shattering of the sapphire blue vase on the white tiled wall and the crumbling of promises on the kitchen floor.
He didn’t say a single word, not through the tears and the yelling and that stinging slap across his face. It wasn’t until he was on the other side of the door- a door he had forever closed on himself- that he whispered “mianeh”. It wasn’t until he was sitting in a hotel room- with a queen size bed he had unconsciously asked for out of habit- that the tears fell, hard and fast, burning as they scorched a path down his cheeks and sizzling as they touched his clenched hands. He was still crying when the darkness finally claimed him near dawn, the tears still flowing freely to soak into the pillow, his hands curled around the empty space on the bed beside himself.
He remembered the touches and the smiles, the teasing and the joy, the happiness from just being together and being able to laugh their way through loss and anger and anything life threw at them. Now he had nobody and nothing to face life with, but his own reflection and the single picture of all of them that he had not been able to throw away. He wanted to experience it all again, the world that he had destroyed with his own hands; more than anything (not the fame or the glory or the popularity or money- he’d exchange them all for more time with them). He wanted to be able to be enveloped in hugs and have his hands held and just be whole again. Instead in the fading grip of the night, when even Kyuhyun has stopped playing his games and the dorms are only filled with the soft sounds of snoring, he stands outside their home- his home- and presses his palm against the door and it is enough because he swears that there is another hand pressed against his through the thick door. He gathers strength from that small connection and it lends him the determination, when only minutes before he knows Leeteuk would be up to wake the others (the way they had waked the others together before) to just slip away, a wanderer into the loneliness of solitude.
He was weak for not being able to let go completely, pathetic for not being coldhearted enough. He wants and he lingers and in the end, all the lies in the world that he told was not enough, not when he wakes up to the burning eyes of his leader and with his hand gripped in his favourite dongsaeng’s. There are other people there too, some that he knows well, others that he recognizes but can’t recall their names and others he knew he should know, but is lost when he tries to search for a memory of them in the blank rolling ocean of his mind. It is only the tug in his heart that tells him that all these people meant the world to him.
There were apologies and tears and hollowed cheeks and now that they know the truth, it would be easy to give in to the warmth that he had yearned with every part of him, to give himself a little bit of happiness and peace just for once, for the last time. Yet he knew what it was like to lose something and gain it back only to lose it again. It was worse than not finding it at all. So he doesn’t smile at how close they were all leaning in, doesn’t laugh at the ridiculous presents that they were carrying (he could see pink bunnies and food and was that a nunchuck?!), didn’t throw himself into their arms. He pulls away sharply from that loving touch, looks away from those caring eyes and all he does is stare blankly and cock his head as he watches the disappointment flood their eyes. There is only silence.
It is long after they had all left with lingering eyes and promises to visit, that he touches the assortment of presents and lets out a chuckle. There are things that he doesn’t feel anything for, others that he knew the exact moment that made it special, but the warmth flows through him anyway, the simple knowledge that they had never truly hated him for what he did, for abandoning them and their family. That they still loved him.
Deep down he had always known this, somepart of him always wishing and hoping and waiting for this day, when his sacrifice is made worthwhile. He hadn’t wanted them to find out the truth, had hid it behind so much shadows and lies and hurt that he had hoped that they would just hate him enough to forget about him. But they haven’t forgotten, just like he still remembers his purpose through all the gaping abysses in his memory.
If Hankyung couldn’t make them hate him, he was going to make sure they didn’t hate themselves. And if pretending to forget them all was yet another lie he had to tell, he was willing to save all the tears for himself.
SUPPORT GENG AND BELIEVE IN HIM <3
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SILENCE
The silence was the worst. More deafening than shouting and more piercing than screams, it was where the looks that said all the things that would never normally be spoken, were exchanged. The ones that hurt enough that they can not just be forgotten or forgiven. It was in silence, that hearts were broken.
He remembered the silence of a time not so long ago. Maybe years ago, maybe days ago or maybe a mere heartbeat ago. He doesn’t remember when or where, only the silence that was around him, within him. It had been utterly silent, it was as if even the soft breathing of the people had been smothered by someone or something so not to distract from the complete desolation of the moment.
He remembered wide, shocked eyes, tearful, pleading eyes, narrowed, disbelieving eyes. He wanted to shut his eyes and his ears, because the question held in those eyes seared through his heart and such was the intensity, that he thought he heard the crescendo of pain those eyes played at him. He knew they wanted him to deny it (after all, it was ridiculous that he would want to leave for money of all things), that a simple sentence and they would have believed and everything would be exactly the way it had always been. He didn’t break the silence, not even when there were long hands gripping tightly at his collar and soft hands tugging at his sleeve. He added to it instead, with apologetic bows and hollow eyes that explained nothing. Then it wasn’t silent anymore, because there was the shattering of the sapphire blue vase on the white tiled wall and the crumbling of promises on the kitchen floor.
He didn’t say a single word, not through the tears and the yelling and that stinging slap across his face. It wasn’t until he was on the other side of the door- a door he had forever closed on himself- that he whispered “mianeh”. It wasn’t until he was sitting in a hotel room- with a queen size bed he had unconsciously asked for out of habit- that the tears fell, hard and fast, burning as they scorched a path down his cheeks and sizzling as they touched his clenched hands. He was still crying when the darkness finally claimed him near dawn, the tears still flowing freely to soak into the pillow, his hands curled around the empty space on the bed beside himself.
He remembered the touches and the smiles, the teasing and the joy, the happiness from just being together and being able to laugh their way through loss and anger and anything life threw at them. Now he had nobody and nothing to face life with, but his own reflection and the single picture of all of them that he had not been able to throw away. He wanted to experience it all again, the world that he had destroyed with his own hands; more than anything (not the fame or the glory or the popularity or money- he’d exchange them all for more time with them). He wanted to be able to be enveloped in hugs and have his hands held and just be whole again. Instead in the fading grip of the night, when even Kyuhyun has stopped playing his games and the dorms are only filled with the soft sounds of snoring, he stands outside their home- his home- and presses his palm against the door and it is enough because he swears that there is another hand pressed against his through the thick door. He gathers strength from that small connection and it lends him the determination, when only minutes before he knows Leeteuk would be up to wake the others (the way they had waked the others together before) to just slip away, a wanderer into the loneliness of solitude.
He was weak for not being able to let go completely, pathetic for not being coldhearted enough. He wants and he lingers and in the end, all the lies in the world that he told was not enough, not when he wakes up to the burning eyes of his leader and with his hand gripped in his favourite dongsaeng’s. There are other people there too, some that he knows well, others that he recognizes but can’t recall their names and others he knew he should know, but is lost when he tries to search for a memory of them in the blank rolling ocean of his mind. It is only the tug in his heart that tells him that all these people meant the world to him.
There were apologies and tears and hollowed cheeks and now that they know the truth, it would be easy to give in to the warmth that he had yearned with every part of him, to give himself a little bit of happiness and peace just for once, for the last time. Yet he knew what it was like to lose something and gain it back only to lose it again. It was worse than not finding it at all. So he doesn’t smile at how close they were all leaning in, doesn’t laugh at the ridiculous presents that they were carrying (he could see pink bunnies and food and was that a nunchuck?!), didn’t throw himself into their arms. He pulls away sharply from that loving touch, looks away from those caring eyes and all he does is stare blankly and cock his head as he watches the disappointment flood their eyes. There is only silence.
It is long after they had all left with lingering eyes and promises to visit, that he touches the assortment of presents and lets out a chuckle. There are things that he doesn’t feel anything for, others that he knew the exact moment that made it special, but the warmth flows through him anyway, the simple knowledge that they had never truly hated him for what he did, for abandoning them and their family. That they still loved him.
Deep down he had always known this, somepart of him always wishing and hoping and waiting for this day, when his sacrifice is made worthwhile. He hadn’t wanted them to find out the truth, had hid it behind so much shadows and lies and hurt that he had hoped that they would just hate him enough to forget about him. But they haven’t forgotten, just like he still remembers his purpose through all the gaping abysses in his memory.
If Hankyung couldn’t make them hate him, he was going to make sure they didn’t hate themselves. And if pretending to forget them all was yet another lie he had to tell, he was willing to save all the tears for himself.
SUPPORT GENG AND BELIEVE IN HIM <3