OTP: Moonsun

Characters: Moon Byulyi, Kim Yongsun

Context: Long distance relationship, miscommunication, kinda hurt/comfort, happy ending? Idk you tell me if that's a happy ending...

A/N to requestor: I think I merged two requests here I don't remember nor do I wanna check lol. I saw hurt and comfort and immediately said amma jus write about LDR because that's relatable to my situation and an easy write. Idk if this is sad enough though, tell me? May have projected a bit (not on the characters more on the plot, it's very moonsun of them here I think). So, happy reading!

A/N: Uhh this isn't on the order of requests but that's because I was beta reading them and i kinda... deleted them like an idiot (yeah so drafts of all the ones here are gone haha fml). I'll still do the 2 hwabyul and 1 wheesa requests I like them too much not to. Plus I'm a man of my word to a menacing extent so just you wait, okay? okay!

It absolutely hurts- drains- kills. Like a recurring nameless emotion that drags you down no matter what you do. A fog turning you blind- numb- cold- distant.

It started off consistent. They- Byul and Yongsun would always meet at a certain hour of every night to just talk. Talk about anything and everything. about everyone and anyone. Be there for each other. Be each other’s confidant- advocate- refuge no matter what distance.

It started changing from every night of every day to thrice a week to twice- once- monthly- quarterly- Until it has been half a year. Until it has been half a year of nothingness. Emptiness. Their chat has been reduced from pictures of everyday meals- sights to see- pets- themselves, into daily- weekly- monthly- quarterly- greetings.

Warmth of their everyday conversations in the digital sphere turned cold. Perfect for the start of a depressing season of dead- white- barren- bitter winter. Perfect for December. The month when the sun starts set earlier- the sun becomes distant- out of reach- gone.

Was the same month Byulyi didn’t fear because it’s theirs. Because she always gets to celebrate her birthday with Yongsun. Her personal and pocket sized sun. Her fun-sized sun gives her the energy- warmth- light to reflect every cold night.

But it’s December 21- time trickling down ever so –painfully– slowly. Every passing hour makes Byulyi’s longing- yearning- waiting heart clench and suffocate a little more in the silence- loneliness- emptiness. Every minute, every second, every tick of the clock- they all turn loud, they all echo, they all bounce loudly in Byulyi’s empty apartment.

She didn’t even bother with cake today. She didn’t even bother… with anything.

Check her phone? Nope. It’s somewhere by the empty table.

Change of clothes? Nah. The old ones were everywhere by the- empty living room.

All she really bothered to get at the convenience store was the same damn alcohol she buys when goes down. The same damn ing alcohol that makes emotional and mental turmoil a physical burn down .

Like she’s trying to swallow a painful truth. Of being forgotten- left- aban-

Knocking. Pulled her out of her thoughts, knuckles playing a tune on her door.

Knocking. The same tune by knuckles- louder pulling her out of her pitiful state.

Knocking. Another- this time with a closed fist, irritated and insistent, forcing her to get up.

“Who the wants to bother me this la-” She swung the door open, ready to be pissed and berate the person knocking at 11 ing PM.

“Why didn’t you answer YOUR ING PHONE?!” Too bight. Too loud. Too… much.

Not even a hello. Not even a hug. Not even-

“Why did you GHOST ME?!” She’s too busy being a pitiful sad girl to be glad- to be happy- to care.

“Byul-ah, don’t blame me, YOU NEVER REPLIED!” Ah there it was, throw her unreasonable anger, she throws you reasons with anger.

“What do YOU MEAN NEVER REPLIED?!” Byulyi leaves the door then the bottle by the kitchen island- she retreats to her phone. She checks their last chat. And she was right. She was the last message. Not even read. Just received. Inboxed.

“LOOK! AT OUR LAST CHAT! OUR LAST CA