Fic: If Only...
Title: If Only...
Author: vic_sim
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but the plot.
Pairing: Siwon/?
Genre: Angst
Summary: It's the Sequel to Love...is a lie... It is the other part of the story. The pov of the mystery person who is revealed at the end of the fic. Basically Love...is a lie... is about Siwon's relationship with the mystery person and his feelings. And this part is about the mystery person and why he did what he did.
A/N: This is the sequel to the fic I wrote for the 100Fic Challenge Prompt 58: Lies Siwon/Siwon. Not really sure if I portrayed the mystery person correctly. But I hope it gives a more complete picture to the fic. Enjoy.
He sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen, at the name at the top left corner of the page. His heart ached at the sight of the name, and even though he was alone, he struggled to mask the wave of sadness that threatened to overwhelm him.
He wished he could change his actions, to turn back time to when it all began.
He had always been slow on the uptake. He was good at noticing things about his friends, but never was he able to notice anything regarding himself. So he was shocked one day when his senior pointed out a guy across the quadrangle and whispered into his ears, “He likes you.”
His eyes wandered, following the direction. What he saw took away his breath. The guy - man - was simply breath-taking. His hair fell perfectly around his face, which was slightly angular - not too sharp, not too curved, just nice. But the most attractive part was the eyes. They made him shiver from the intensity of the darkness and soulful eyes. It made him want to run away and yet run towards him at the same time. He blinked and blushed when those eyes met his. Immediately, he ducked his head, turning around to hide his tomato-red face, causing a giggle to escape his senior’s mouth.
He wondered what would happen if his senior had not mentioned it to him - would everything be different.
“Message from unknown number.”
He stared at the number, puzzled. Shrugging his shoulders, he opened the message thinking that it was probably a prank, fingers almost ready to press the ‘delete’ button, when he froze. He blinked. And blinked. But the words remained the same. The words suddenly seemed so huge on the tiny screen. Still suspicious, but unable to suppress the soft giggle that escaped, he replied the message.
And that was the start of their interaction.
No one around him knew that the two of them knew each other. In school, their paths seldom crossed as he was a senior, while he was a year below. Yet every day, he looked forward to receiving those messages, which did not really say much, except like ‘it was a busy day’, ‘I saw you with your friends in the canteen’, and ‘Have a good night’. They did not progress straight into a relationship, unlike many others around them. Instead, it was like pure innocent love where both parties were too shy to take a huge step. Even then, he loved every single moment and message. His inbox was almost constantly full as he could not bear to delete the messages.
I should have stopped before we progressed even further. But I was not willing to let go.
He was panicking in his room, wondering what he should wear for the date - no, it’s an outing - with him. He did not know why he felt so nervous, but he did not have time to dwell on it. And that was how his friend found out about them. He explained, unable to look at his friend in the eyes as he spoke, almost pleading for his more fashionably-inclined friend to help him for the date - OUTING!
It was awkward as they sat in the restaurant, both too timid to make the first move. Every time he made an attempt to speak, he would immediately clamp his mouth as his mind echoed “He likes you!” That thought weighed heavily on his mind, making him unable to speak like the way he did with his friends. Yet, he needed to do something to fill the oppressive silence. So he rambled.
If my mind was not so wrapped round the fact that you like me, would we have started out on the correct foot?
Despite the awkward silence, and the amount of talking he made, it was a memorable evening to him. He could almost see him sitting in front of him, staring at him as he went on about totally irrelevant things, loving the feeling that he was the centre of his world at that moment. He sighed, cuddling his pillow and fell asleep with a smile on his face.
It went on the same way for their next few outings - dates? - where he had to keep trying to find things to say to cover the silence. He did not mind silence, but one of the few things he hated was awkward silence. He would have an unnatural urge to blanket the silence with his voice, with his mindless ramblings. And almost every time after their outing - date - he would wonder why he never knew more about him.
Then his graduation came.
If I was able to control my urge, would I know more about you?
He thought that after graduation things might not be so awkward between them anymore. He loved the fact that he was working in school, as it meant that they would be able to see each other more often. They met up during their lunch breaks on Fridays every week. He had to tell his friends to go ahead without him as he waited for him to finish his weekly meetings. His friends kept bugging him to tell them the reason but he refused. He did not want anyone to know until things were clear between them.
Meeting in the school canteen every week meant that eventually someone would notice. And someone did. It spread round the school that he was seeing him, the senior who was the Prom King of his batch, who excelled in sports and studies, the all-rounder and heir to the huge company.
This time, he was conscious of all the attention on him. After all, he was nobody in the school. Suddenly, everywhere he went, there were eyes following his every action and muttering as he went by. Most comments were simply about how they were together, but every once in a while there would be a snide remark. He could not help but flinch every time he heard people whispering about him.
And there was one Physical Education lesson where he was the substitute teacher. His classmates started to tease him about them. He wanted to dig a hole in the floor and just hide in it until the class ended, or better still, until he graduated from school. He hated all the attention. He hated attention on him, which was why he always chose to hide in the background, sticking to things that he was familiar with. And being with a senior was definitely not something he was used to.
I should have stuck to what I knew best. Then I would not have hurt you.
Valentine’s day.
He had no idea what he wanted to give him. He wanted to give something significant, and yet not like the gifts couples exchanged. He looked around his drawer, searching for inspiration. And he found it.
He took out the box of origami paper and some pens. On every paper, he wrote a sentence about him before folding it into a heart. He worked through the night, folding and writing 100 sentences, marking the 100 days they had known each other for.
He found himself dragging his friend towards the staff room, needing the strength from his friend. He kept fiddling with the gift in his hand, until his friend stopped his actions.
“You’re going to ruin the gift before you even give it to him.”
He stopped. “I think I’m going to go back.”
He did not feel like giving the gift anymore. But it was too late as he came out of the staff room.
He stuttered, almost shoving the gift in his face before running off.
I would not have given you that if I knew it would trigger the avalanche.
He was really shocked when he kneeled down in the park with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“Would you be my boyfriend?”
He was not shocked. He was shell-shocked. Never in his life did he expect that.
All he could do was nod, although the words ‘I love you’ were almost out of his mouth, he could not bear to commit himself to ‘love’ yet. He knew it was unfair, but he was insecure about their relationship.
He loved their time together. He loved all their little moments.
But he hated the whisperings around them. He hated the fact that their relationship was under the scrutiny of the whole school. He hated the fact that everyone knew about them.
He wanted their time together to belong to them only. Instead, now it belonged to everyone in the school.
Yet, he was unwilling to let go of the few blissful moments they had with each other.
But the thing I hate most is me.
I hate me for hurting you.
He began to give excuses to not go on dates with him as time went by. Although he was no longer a teacher at school, he was still feeling the pressure of being with him. He loved the time together, but he was always so tired after every date. He did not mind talking. All his friends could attest to the fact that he talked quite a bit. But he did not want to go on a date to just hear himself talk. He could do that in front of a mirror at home. He was not an egoistic person who needed to hear his own voice. That was not the point of the date.
But he never seemed to want to talk. He always seemed content to just listen to him. It was refreshing to have people actually listening, but he wanted to know more about him as well. He was beginning to feel that he knew nothing about him - not his hobbies, not his friends, not his favourite food, not his family, nothing at all. He did not understand him at all.
And that made him depressed. He did not know how to voice it, not knowing if it was only him who felt that way, if it was him who was weird. And he was unwilling to give up the relationship. So he escaped the only way he knew - by avoiding him.
If I had the courage to tell you…
If I was brave enough to say how I feel…
Finally, he found the courage to break it off. It was the day of his first examination. He was in the bus heading to school. He took out his phone, typed in the words, but his fingers merely hovered above the button. People around him were all reading through notes, but he was wavering between pressing the button and simply flipping his phone shut.
He flipped it shut. Then he opened it again.
Once more he typed the words in, changing them ever so slightly. He stared out the window, remembering the times they were on the same bus together. They were not talking, just standing next to each other.
He flipped it open, typing the message for the third time. He pushed the button, letting that lone tear roll down.
Everything should have ended then.
It should have.
But I had to ruin it by wanting you back in my life.
He sent the message, bracing himself for rejection as he was the one to reject him in the first place. When the reply came almost instantly, he knew it was not going to happen.
“Let’s meet next Tuesday.”
The phone dropped, cluttering to the floor. He had been preparing himself for a rejection so well, such that he had never considered the fact that he was not going to be rejected. Hope bubbled in his heart as he looked at the calendar, drawing a huge circle around Tuesday.
Painstakingly, he wrote as neatly as possible on the card and wrapping the elephant properly. He wondered if he should be doing this in the first place for he was the one who was unable to commit to the relationship. He was the one who had so much trouble with the relationship in the first place. Was it fair of him to try and reconcile with him?
But their time apart only made him pine for him even more.
I hate myself for writing the card.
I hate myself for giving the elephant.
I hate myself for wanting you back.
I hate myself for loving you.
And I hate myself for hurting you.
“I think the two elephants would never unite.”
It was the hardest thing he had ever written. Not even his attempts at lyrics were that hard.
He let his phone fall to the floor. He followed as well. His knees hit the floor hard, but the pain was nothing compared to the squeeze in his heart. Strong arms wrapped round his body; and he knew it was his friend.
“Kyu…”
He clenched his fists around the shirt, his tears staining the clean white shirt.
“It’s okay Wook. Let it out.”
He refused to wail. He had no right to wail. He was the criminal. He was the one hurting him. He had no right at all.
But he could not stop the tears from falling.
His eyes flicked over to the wall, where a jigsaw puzzle hung. Mickey and Minnie Mouse held hands, watching the fireworks above them.
It was the only thing he had of their time together. He had no pictures of them together. He had no pictures of him. It was as if they never existed.
If only that was true.
If only we did not exist.
If only I did not exist.
If only I don’t love you anymore…