It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

Wishing I’d realized what I had when you were mine

-Back To December

A mistake. That was the only word Jongin had for it. But ‘mistake’ was insufficient. It didn’t even begin to describe the way Jongin felt about his decision. It was something he knew he would always struggle with: how to describe it. His friends would tell him time and time again that he needed to move on. That what was done was done and there was nothing he could do about it anymore. It was too late.  But even if Jongin didn’t know how to describe it, didn’t know what word to use, the one thing he did know was that he would never move on. He couldn’t. 

-

Two years ago

Jongin tapped his fingers mindlessly on the table, glancing at the clock every so often, the constant ‘tick’ and ‘tock’ the only sounds in the room. With each minute that passed the dread in his stomach seemed to grow until he felt he might throw up but he simply continued to sit, his fingers tapping away, the clock ticking on.

The sound of the door opening caused his fingers to pause but he refused to look up.

“Sorry I’m late, Sunbae just gave me a new song to practice and I wanted to work on it a little.” Kyungsoo said as he slid his shoes off and placed his bags next to them.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, walking past Jongin and into the kitchen. Jongin made no reply, but Kyungsoo didn’t seem to notice as he started pulling pots down from the cupboards and opened the fridge, taking out various items. “Are your parents still at work?”

Again Jongin didn’t answer.

“They must be. I’ll make some for them too.”

It was painful, Jongin realized. It was painful hearing the way Kyungsoo moved pots, chopped things, moved around Jongin’s kitchen with ease, like it was his home as well. Kyungsoo knew where every fork was, every plate, pan, napkin. He probably knew it better than Jongin did.

“Do you want some water?” Kyungsoo asked, pulling out two glasses from the cupboard. This time when Jongin didn’t answer Kyungsoo paused and glanced over at him. “Jongin?”

Jongin could hear Kyungsoo approaching him, his small footsteps so familiar.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo repeated when he sat down across from him, his brow furrowed together. “Are you…okay?”

Jongin knew his silence must be strange to Kyungsoo, knew he was probably confused but Jongin couldn’t find his voice. He simply wasn’t ready for what he had to do. He knew the beginning of him talking meant the beginning of the end. And he knew he wasn’t ready. 

“Jongin. You’re scaring me. Say something.”  Kyungsoo’s small face was creased together in concern, his wide eyes searching Jongin’s face. “Are you sick?” He asked, reaching his hand toward Jongin.

“Don’t.” Jongin said quietly, but Kyungsoo ignored him, his fingers resting lightly on Jongin’s forehead, feeling for a fever.

“Don’t.” Jongin repeated, louder this time and he reached up and swatted Kyungsoo’s hand away, quickly averting his gaze down to the table but not missing the hurt and confused look in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” His boyfriend asked quietly, keeping his hands to himself this time.

Jongin took a deep, shaky breath, already feeling tears prickle at his eyes. His mentor’s voice played over and over in his head as he tried to form the right words.

He’s a distraction, Jongin. Ever since you started dating him you’re skipping practices, your choreography is not as good as it could be. You’re not focusing. And I know it’s because of him. I can’t continue to teach you if you keep seeing him.

Jongin still remembered the note of finality contained in each word. If he wanted to continue to learn dance from the best instructor in Korea then he had to break up with Kyungsoo. He knew that even if he switched instructors he would still have the same problem, would still skip practice to simply be with Kyungsoo.

 As much as Jongin hated the man currently, he couldn’t deny the truth of his words. As soon as he had met Kyungsoo dance had begun to become less and less of a priority. He had begun to tell himself that his lifelong dream could wait, that he could practice after his date with Kyungsoo.

But Jongin hadn’t realized it would get to this point, didn’t know it would come down to a choice. Kyungsoo or dance. The two loves of his life.  

He hated himself for choosing dance. Hated himself for being a coward, for picking the one he felt could never let him down. As much faith as he had in Kyungsoo he couldn’t get rid of the nagging doubt in the back of his mind that told him one day Kyungsoo might leave, that told him a lot of relationships didn’t work out, and that his and Kyungsoo’s might not be any different.

 But with dance he didn’t have that worry. It was safe, reliable.

And knowing this, he lifted his head and looked into Kyungsoo’s searching eyes, seeing the confusion, the concern, the fear in them and he spoke the words he would forever wish he could take back: “I think we should break up.”