Hello, it's me
I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet
To go over everything
They say that time's supposed to heal you, but I ain't done much healing

He peered at the watch on his wrist, a gift from Myungsoo, it felt heavy on his feeble arm. The glass covering the watch's face was splintered, the arms no longer moved.

Sungjong was nestled into the arm of the leather couch, knees to his chest, head tucked in between his knees, gripping the phone so hard his knuckles turned white. He had pressed send. His uneven breathing matched his heart palpitations, he was nervous. The air was stale and the room was dark. The curtains were shut, the only glimpses of light in the room came from the cellphone screen. 

He hesitated, should he send another text? Maybe Myungsoo didn't the message. Or maybe he did, maybe he hated Sungjong and never wanted to speak to him again. Sungjong wouldn't blame him. 

Sungjong touched his cheek, it was wet. He was crying again or maybe he never stopped. Sungjong placed his face in his cupped hands and began to sob. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, he couldn't do anything right. 

He got up from the couch and ran his hand through his greasy untamed hair. He hadn't rememered the last time he showered. His bare feet froze against the cool marble floors. The glow of the screen illuminated his face, he pressed dial and waited. His arms clutched his chest, afraid that his heart would give out the moment he heard the elder's velvet voice.

"Hello?" Myungsoo's voice was low and raspy, he had been crying too. Sungjong's knees gave out, he grabbed the couch's arm for support. It felt like years since they last spoke and his voice still sounded like silk. The smoothness of his voice verberated from his phone, and wrapped itself around Sungjong's porcelain neck like a snake about to strangle its prey. He knew it was coming. The finale. The end.

"Myungsoo? It's me, Sungjong. I, I-," he was a loss for words. 

"What do you want?" Myungsoo said wrathfully, malice evident in his tone. He was hurt.

Sungjong was at a loss of words. He didn't know what to say. I love you? I miss you? Sorry? He didn't deserve the elder's forgiveness. "Nothing, it's just cold at the appartment."

"I guess cold feet just doesn't go away, does it? Why are you calling me?" Myungsoo chose his words carefully, cold feet. It felt like the blood in his veins froze over.

I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be
When we were younger and free
I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet

This was not the Myungsoo he remembered. This wasn't the same Myungsoo that couldn't look him in the eye without blushing when they went on their first date, or the Myungsoo that remembered the placement of all Sungjong's beauty marks by the third date, this definitely wasn't the same boy who knew all of Sungjong's quirks by the 5th date (and loved him despite the oddities), it was not the Myungsoo that was sweet and gentle during their first time together, nor the Myungsoo that stayed up all night nursing Sungjong back to health even though he had a final at 7am the next morning, not the Myungsoo that said he loved him, or the Myungsoo that said that he would be patient with him when he was unable to tell him he loved him back, it was not the Myungsoo that proposed at the cafe where they first met, not the Myungsoo that took extra shifts at the cafe to make Sungjong's dream wedding come to reality, not the Myungsoo whose heart was broken when Sungjong didn't show up at the alter.

This Myungsoo was different.

Yet again, Sungjong wasn't the same person he was when they first met. The light in his eyes evaded him, glistened over by the relentless tears. He could never justify why he left or why he lead Myungsoo on till the very end. But he knew looking back he was wrong, he needed Myungsoo. Myungsoo was his tether keeping him from floating off into space and he loved him. He ing loved him.

Love, is a funny thing. It either hides in the dusty corners of a room or fills the air with a soft aroma. It either rolls off the tongue or rests at the base of your throat, threatening to choke you if said aloud. Sungjong was never ready to say it, until now. 

"Myungsoo, I lo-" he was cut off.

"Don't. Say. It. We are done, you decided that the day you left me standing there in front of everyone," Myungsoo chocked down a sob, "I waited so long for you to say those words and you choose now? Of all times. I'm sick of this game. Please, let's just stop." Sungjong was met with a dial tone. 

It was too late.

Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I've tried
To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart
But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart
Anymore.