TW

Lose myself

With all of the faces, you were the one next to me
april 2033, one hour before curfew
@Hikari Campbell

Does he really believe it will work? Probably not. Something just broke in front of his very eyes. The trust that they share. The certainty of what they have, whatever it is. Hikari has decided to do something that will affect the both of us without even batting an eye. As Minjun doesn’t really want to be in his arms on Friday, his friend won’t budge from what he has decided for them. Then I guess that in two days, you’ll be as disappointed as me today. Fuck you. How dare he? How dare he act this way when he is the one spitting on everything they have and are? Acting wounded when he is the one leaving him behind to pursue some dumb flirt that will never blossom into anything serious? The outburst hasn’t been smart but there is so much acid filling his mouth that it needs to be spat out, no matter how. As the jacket is picked up, he doesn’t make a move. You’d be the one who ends up disappointed. Jeon needs to get the last word. He needs to be the last man standing. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and he isn’t looking at him. His eyes are on the half crumbled wall behind the couch that has seen so much of them. Good night Minjun. Don’t miss curfew. Good night Hikari. Don’t miss me too much. The remark is petty, sliding with ease to find a mark, more efficient than a knife. Only when the footsteps stop echoing in the staircase does he move. Only then does he go to the couch to grasp his own vest and put it on. This is when his gaze falls on the forgotten beanies. A black one and a burgundy one. There is pain, a sudden ache that is unbearable. That leads him to grasp them and throw them in the room, muffling a rageful scream. When he rises, his limbs shake. Yet he gets a move on. Curfew is near. And one fight has been enough for the day. Soon, he disappears downstairs. And the empty room seems to wonder what happened, within its decrepit walls, them who only witnessed the marks of a strong attachment, that seems, in the end, as anything in this God forsaken world, condemned to disappear.