hongjoong sat on the floor of his apartment with his knees pulled up to his chest, his back pressed against the wall, and wrapped a blanket loosely around his shoulders. he played the song, 'place in me,' as soon as he sat, reveling in the song lyrics.

don't you move
can't we just stay?
can we start over?
don't fade away

he could not get that line out of his mind. it felt like it had been written for him, for the situation he put himself in. like someone had reached into his chest, dug through all the wreckage, and found the one thing he was keeping hidden.

he wanted to show seonghwa that place. he really did.

he stood up slowly, blanket dragging behind him as he moved towards his kitchen counter. it was cluttered, as usual, with old receipts, tangled chargers, and a cracked notebook. he brushed some of it aside and sat down, staring at the blank page in front of him like it might hold the answer to everything.

he did not know why he reached for a pen instead of his phone. maybe because writing felt safer, it felt quieter. like he did not have to hear the disappointment in seonghwa's voice or feel the weight of silence waiting on the other end of a call.

writing meant he could say everything without the risk of being seen.

so he took a breath and started.

seonghwa.

i don't really know how to start this, or maybe i do and i just don't want to admit it. i've been sitting here for fifteen minutes staring at this page and trying to figure out what i'm supposed to say. there's a lot i want to say. i just don't know if i have the right to anymore.

you deserve an explanation for everything i've done, but the truth is... i don't know how to give it. not really.

i'm not good at talking about myself. you know that. i laugh things off. i change the subject. i shut down when things get too close. i know it hurts you, and i hate that. i hate that i do this to you. but there's this part of me, this old, scared part, that always thinks the second i let someone in, they're gonna walk away. or worse, they're gonna stay just long enough to know the worst parts of me and then use them as a reason to leave later.

i know that's not fair. you're not him. you've never been him. but he's still in my head. my dad. his voice. his hands. the way he used to say things to me like they were facts written in stone. "you're too much." "you're not enough." "no one's ever going to love you like that."

and for a long time, i believed him. clearly, i still do.

so when you look at me the way you do, like you see something good, something worth loving, it scares the hell out of me. because i don't know how to believe you. i don't know how to trust that you won't change your mind. i don't know how to hold something that feels this good without worrying about when it's going to disappear.

but i want to. i really want to.

i wish i could be brave enough to tell you all of this to your face. i wish i could look you in the eye and say, "i'm trying. please don't give up on me."

but instead, i said we should forget the kiss. we should forget everything. and you said we should move on. i know you meant it, and i know you were protecting yourself, the same way i've been protecting myself all this time.

still... i'm writing this letter, so maybe that means there's a piece of me that hasn't let go yet. or maybe it means i never really wanted to.

you've always been patient with me. more patient than i ever deserved. and even now, after everything, i know you probably still would be. and that makes this harder. because if i showed you who i really am, if i let you see everything, not just the version of me that's easy to love, what if you still left? what if you didn't?

i don't know which scares me more.

but i guess what i'm trying to say is... i'm sorry. for kissing you. for pleasuring you. for showing up drunk. for leaving. for being too afraid to stay. for not being ready, and for not knowing when i will be.

i hope one day i can give you what you deserve. and if by then it's too late, if you've already moved on, i hope you know that a part of me will always be yours. even if it's just the part of me that learned how to want something more than survival.

love,

hongjoong.

he stared at the letter for a long time after he finished it.

his hand ached from writing. his eyes burned. but for the first time all day, his chest felt just a little lighter. like maybe letting the words live outside of him made them less heavy.

he did not fold it.

he did not hide it.

he just reached over and put it under his pillow for safe keeping.

he would never send it, but it was there. a physical piece of paper, a tangible item to show he is trying. and that meant something.

maybe it meant he still hoped, even if just a little.

he leaned back in the chair, eyes drifting to the ceiling. the apartment was quiet again. the kind of quiet that did not feel empty, but just waiting.

only ten chapters left!

-vic