"Let's go in for a bit."

The elder's voice rang. He said it so softly that if it wasn't for the deafening silence permeating through the air everytime they're alone, Seokmin wouldn't hear even the wisp of it. Like a whisper, a mutter, something that shouldn't be heard by any pair of ears other than the speaker, but he heard it nonetheless, and he wasn't ready to stoop so low as to went for ignorance.

Seokmin gulped, stopping halfway to swallow down without a sound. The last thing he would do was speak, not when the atmosphere around them was like this. Then again, 'like this' was their default state nowadays, anyway.

(He wondered since when was the connotation of the atmosphere between them became a negative thing.)

So he nodded. Watched the way Jihoon's eyes dart to the door as his small figure walked inside the studio. His studio. Seokmin braced himself as he followed.

The producer has already made himself relax on his working chair, as he gestured for Seokmin to sit down himself. At least, as relaxed Jihoon could be when he sat on that particular chair. He never really saw Jihoon smile on that chair, ever. Maybe that's why he chose to sit on it in the first place, considering their talk isn't going to be particularly smile-inducing. 

Unlike his shorter boyfriend, he never got comfy here. Not only was this the place he spectacularly failed his singer role often—and ended up making an extra work for Jihoon, who would only sigh tiredly at his hundreds of screw-ups and apologies. God, how did he put up with Seokmin all this time?—there was never a spot designated specifically for him, unless it's on the other side of the studio, where he's required to sing his lungs out. Even then, he never sat down. This was never Seokmin's place to begin with, and he found it almost unfair that this talk of them would put him entirely out of his comfort zone while Jihoon cozied himself in his leather recliner. He didn't even know where to sit.

The faded color chair in the corner of the room looks scarily unstable. But for now, it would have to do.

They weren't talking. Even when Seokmin accidentally broke the silence, hissing at the stray wood stabbing his bottom, none of then said a word.

They stayed like that for minutes, hours, Seokmin didn't know anymore. He was ready to make an excuse, something to get them both out of this situation, this conversation they need but clearly wasn't ready yet for.

(Seokmin wasn't ready yet.)

He was about to blurt out the most ridiculous ever (he wants to take a piss? Really, Seokmin?), when suddenly a soft melody rings through the studio. Jihoon was playing a song. A song he was, unfortunately, all too familiar with.

"Remember when we first listened to this?"

Seokmin flinched at his voice, about ready to scramble out of the door because he was scared, because this is happening, this is really happening—

"Yeah," he croaked out, instead. "You told me to sing this song to relax my throat. Or relax myself in general. When I'm stressed. Because I'm stressed."

Jihoon hummed. "You were such a ball of nerves. Still was, to be honest." He whispered the last part, as if he didn't want Seokmin to hear.

"Have you ever grown to like the song?" He finally turned his head to the taller boy, eyes immediately finding Seokmin's with the courage Seokmin could never hope to have.

His boyfriend has a habit of asking questions he already knew the answer to. Whether it was to reaffirm his assumption or to make the one questioned to spill it out themselves, Seokmin doesn't know. And he probably wouldn't know, ever.

"Never." He acceded. "I've never liked it." He hated it. Still did. "I never listened to it again since you gave it to me." Seokmin was surprised at how stable his voice was. Why can't he do that when he was singing?

Again, Jihoon only hummed, his slanted, cat-like eyes closing. "I loved the song, though."

Seokmin knew that. "I know that."

"It makes me feel someone is telling me to relax and close my eyes. Stop thinking. Stop caring." He continued. "But I guess you can't do that, Seokmin-ah."

"There's no way you can't not care about someone."

Seokmin felt like a clown that was fooling around, pretending the mocking laughs of the audience were cheers of delight.

"And that's why I'm no good for you, right, Jihoon-hyung?"

Seokmin felt like a fool. A fool who knew of his own foolishness, yet was too foolish to do something about it.

"That's why right now, you're breaking up with me, right, hyung?"

So he cried.

He sobbed, his sentences broken, his words barely legible. He wanted to beg, scream, say anything that would make Jihoon say that Seokmin assumed wrong.

"It's okay, Seokmin. This was long overdue. We both expected it." Jihoon smiled, that small little smile Seokmin used to adore so much, the smile that used to paint his dreams when he slept and color his morning when he woke. 

As if not caring that he was currently stabbing his boyfriend (ex?) the more he spoke, Jihoon continued, calmly, softly. Without mercy. Though maybe right now, Jihoon actually did stop caring.

As expected, Seokmin really did hate that song.

"I know you never liked me." That's not true, Seokmin wants to say. "I know you accepted my confession just because you don't want to see me sad." Don't assume that, Seokmin wants to scream. "I know, because. You're kind. You cares too much." Stop saying that, Seokmin wants to beg.

"I know it hurts you to see how much I like you when you know you don't feel the same." He continued speaking, voice completely stable. Maybe he practiced this a lot. Seokmin's heart hurt at the thought.

"I wanna try to be kind too, like you. So let me be kind for you. Let me spare you from more heartache, from more tears, from trying to cry discreetly when the others' asleep." For the first time in his speech, Jihoon took in a deep breath.

"Let me break up with you, Seokmin." He said, voice soft in that characteristic Jihoon way, and final, in the way he always finished. 

The song stopped. It was Seokmin's last chance to say something. 

"Okay." He said, tear tracks marring his face. And that was it.

 

 

—————

 

 

"You know, Seokmin," It would be nice if you were less kind.

"Yeah, hyung?"

"...No. It's nothing."