hongjoong barely remembered the train ride back to the bronx.

the city moved around him in a blur of steel and shadow, lights flickering in and out of focus behind smeared windows, and people coming and going without a glance in his direction. it was like the world did not notice he was falling apart. or maybe it did and it just did not care.

he had left seonghwa's apartment with a dull ache in his chest and a headache that would not let up. the kind of hurt that spread through every part of him, not loud or sharp, but steady, quiet, endless. he did not say much when seonghwa handed him the tea. he just nodded, gave a small, empty thank you, and walked out like he was not leaving something behind.

by the time he pushed open the door to his apartment, it was early afternoon. the light through the window was soft and cold, the kind of light that made everything feel heavier. he dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his shoes without caring where they landed, and stood there in the middle of the room for a few long seconds.

everything was too quiet.

too still.

he moved his bed and collapsed without turning on the lights. he just laid there, curled into himself like a child, his arms wrapped around his knees. the room smelled faintly of detergent and chocolate chip cookies. it should have been comforting, but it was not. nothing was.

he reached for his phone with shaking hands and opened his music app without thinking. muscle memory guided him, fingers tapped, and then it started playing; "place in me" by luke hemmings.

as soon as the first soft chords filled the room, hongjoong's heart broke open.

the tears came so suddenly he could not stop them. he did not even try. he just buried his face in his arms and cried, the music wrapping around him like a whisper, like a voice that knew every hidden part of him and loved it anyway. but that only made it worse.

hold on
i never meant you any harm
got no legs to stand on
i was just dancin' in the dark
now with my eyes wide open
it's heaven in your arms, mm

his body shook with the force of it. all the pain he had swallowed down for years, all the guilt and fear and longing, spilling out like it had been waiting for this moment. like it had always known it would come to this.

his mind spiraled.

not to last night, not to the kiss, not even to the way seonghwa had looked at him with that quiet, patient ache in his eyes.

but it went back even further.

to the nights when he was small, hiding in his bedroom with the door locked and the volume on the tv turned up too loud to drown out the yelling. to the way his father's voice used to crash through the walls, full of rage and disgust. to the things he used to say.

"you're too soft."

"you're weak."

"no one's ever gonna love you if you keep acting like that."

hongjoong had heard it so many times it became part of him. like a second heartbeat. like truth.

he remembered the way his father's hand would slam against the kitchen table when hongjoong would not answer fast enough. the way he would sneer whenever he caught him crying. the way he would say, "look at you. pathetic."

and worse.

so much worse.

hongjoong had believed it. even now, years later, in his own apartment, with his own life, his own music and friends and freedom, that voice still lived inside him. still echoed in his head when he was too tired to fight it off.

it was that voice that made him pull away from seonghwa in the first place. that made him run. because how could someone like seonghwa, someone so gentle, steady, warm, ever love someone like him?

someone broken?

someone who did not even know how to be held without flinching?

hold on
i never meant to start a war
i was just dead wrong
i know we've been in this before
now with my eyes wide open
i tore you right apart, mm

he curled in tighter, his breath catching in his throat. he thought about the way seonghwa's hand had brushed his when they sat too close. the way he looked into his eyes like he was something sacred. like he was something worth staying for.

and all hongjoong could think about was how he did not deserve it.

he never had.

because even now, with everything laid bare, with his heart crying out for someone to see him, he still could not bring himself to tell the truth. not to seonghwa. not to anyone.

he could not say: i'm scared. i'm scared you'll leave if i let you love me. i'm scared you'll see the worst parts of me, the ones he put there, and walk away.

he could not say: i want to be close to you, but i don't know how. i was never taught how. i've only ever known how to survive, not how to stay.

he could not say: i want you.

so instead he ran. again.

like he always did.

the tears slowed eventually, though they did not stop completely. they just softened, falling quiet and slow as the song looped again. he pressed his cheek to the worn fabric of the couch cushion and stared blankly at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths.

he thought about how many times he had sabotaged his own happiness before it even had a chance to grow. how many times he had convinced himself he was doing the right thing by walking away. how every time he got close to something good, he pushed it away like it would hurt him; because deep down, he thought it would.

call me in the morning, yeah
i'm sorry that i let you down, down
i'm so apathetic, it's pathetic
but i need you now, now

outside, a siren echoed in the distance. the hum of life kept going. but inside, everything stayed still.

he was not sure how long he laid there. time became a blur. sunlight shifted across the wall. the song looped again and again until it became part of the silence between his sobs. eventually, he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over seonghwa's name in his messages.

he did not type anything.

just stared.

what would he even say?

"i'm sorry"?

he had already said that.

"i didn't mean to kiss you"?

but deep down, he did.

"i want you"?

too much.

none of it felt right. none of it felt like enough.

he locked his phone and let it fall to the carpet with a soft thud.

the only thing he knew for sure was that he missed him. and he hated that missing him felt like another kind of punishment.

because even if seonghwa did not hate him, and even if he never would, hongjoong still did not know how to let him in.

if you have never heard it, please listen to "place in me!" it's such an incredible and heart wrenching song.

-vic