A/N: idek what's this, I just saw the name Ashley, it made me think of the word ash, and then this came out. kinda writing itself. (also sorry if my characters are ooc.)

Letter: A
Title&Inspirational word: ash
Pairing: Rabin (Ravi/Hongbin)
Genre: slice of life/philosophic
Rating: PG.
Description: What starts with ignition, ends as ash.
Word count: ~1200

~*~*~

When Wonsik arrives home, he finds a packed suitcase in the living room, and the door to the balcony open. His boyfriend, Hongbin, is standing outside, leaning to the railing, turning towards the city bathing in the faint yet colourful lights of the sunset, though his thoughts must have trailed further than the awesome panorama from the 23^rd floor, as he doesn't even notice when Wonsik walks beside him.

“Bin,” he calls softly, making the handsome boy flinch slightly and turn his attention, together with his dark brown orbs, to his boyfriend. Sure, that guy is handsome, beautiful, and maybe more than that. No wonder he has caught Wonsik's eyes... and he still does. But with a different kind of interest now. Just like how a connoisseur appreciates an artwork, being an artist himself, he can't just walk by such a beauty, without having to notice and admire each time. And it's not just Hongbin's appearance, it's his amazing personality too, his shy kindness that captured the older's heart the first time they met. They've spent amazing months since that. Eight to be exact, right today. But that's a long time. Long enough for the sparkle to disappear. And Wonsik has been thinking, a lot. That he should let go, let Hongbin find someone else who would appreaciate him more, in every sense. Who would make him flattery, and giddy, and even happier. And as he looks in those dark orbs he used to get lost in, and get butterflies in his stomach because of them, no matter how much he hates farewells of any kind, he knows it's time to let go. He digs in his pocket to fish out a cigarette and a lighter, to find strength in his newly refound addiction. He knows it's be better if he just got to it, so it can be over, but he can't bring himself to it just yet.

“You don't look at me,” Hongbin states silently, making the other man look at him questioningly, as he takes the cigarette between his lips. “Not literally. And it's not just that you don't look at me only like you used to—you don't look at me the same way.” Wonsik, knowing all too well where this is going, keeps silent, just looking at his boyfriend, lights the stick and takes a long drag on it, before puffing out the smoke towards the street. Still making Hongbin scrunch his nose, the delicate boy not liking neither smoke nor the bad habit. “You even took smoking back up... you quit when we got together.” The older still can't really bring himself to say anything, so he gets his lips busy with his cigarette again. Hongbin lets out a soft sigh, realizing it's him who has to say it. Wonsik was the one who took the initiative, but hasn't is always been him who had to say no, when his boyfriend would go overboard? Maybe, that comes with being an artist, Hongbin has always thought, being a bit eccentric. Creative, in every possible sense and way, but sometimes, losing the sense of reality. He wishes he can continue to help the taller boy with that—he still cares a lot as a friend. But nothing more. So it's time for break-up, he decides. Or more like, he already decided, when he packed his sitcase. He takes a deep breath, luckily, not from the smoke, as Wonsik makes sure to keep it away from him, before saying with a smile. “Wonsik. Let's continue as friends, arasso?” The named nods shortly, slightly relieved, the corners of his lips curling upwards. He still can't not return that dimpled smile he used to be in love with, but now only makes him smile back, in all honesty. Happy for being friends with this ever so gorgeous guy. “I'm moving out,” Hongbin adds. Quite unecessary, since the other must've seen his suitcase, but he wants to break the awkward silence with something, wants to get the other to talk too, but in vain, as he's answered with a nod again. He fidgets with his fingers, while Wonsik smokes his cigarette, eyes staring into the distance. “Then... I'll get going. I need to get home today... Just call me if you need anything. I hope we'll meet soon,” he flashes another smile, but this isn't even seen, as the other boy keeps on staring at the buildings. Even though he sees less from them with each moment, slowly turning dark around them. The younger sighs softly and turns around to walk in, Wonsik's voice stopping him at the balcony door.

“Hongbin.”

“Neh?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You're most welcome,” he turns back, smiling, and he's pulled into a short, but tight and meaningful hug. Then, the older pulls back and leans against the railing, picking up his cigarette from the ashtray and staring away. Hongbin is left to walk out alone, but he knows the way anyways, he tells himself, and he knows Wonsik enough to know, he's not meaning to be rude, just too sensitive to take farewells well, but too proud to admit it. He feels a dumb feeling of sadness too, they've greatly been parts of each other's lives. They're going to miss so many things, cuddling before sleep, knowing there's someone waiting for you when you go home... He can guess the artist feels it even more intensified. He places his keys on the table silently before picking up his suitcase and glances back from the door one last time, only seeing his ex's back on the balcony, before walking out of the apartment, and walking out of Wonsik's life, at least as a boyfriend.

The artist inhales the smoke deeply to calm himself down. He knows he has to let go, but he doesn't like losing things. He could never bear it well. Especially not losing things as important as Hongbin. He knows well, he's not going to lose him actually, that they are gonna be close friends, with how much they understand and treasure each other. But still, the top floor apartment is going to be lonely, and he's gonna miss the little things more, he appreciated most. These are at the same time the ups and downs of being an artist—having a unique point of view to the world, being sensible to and noticing every little detail, as well as their abscence. He drops his cigarette in the ashtray, watching it burn completely, till only ash is left, as his thoughts go far. The cigarette is just like their love, and relationship... the addiction. The ignition, the burn, then the reduction into cold ash. His eyes light up, as inspiration comes to him, and he hurries inside, to eternalize his impression, his feelings, his view of the moment. The open balcony door is forgotten about, and so is the ashtray, that should be emptied. The arising evening breeze takes up the ash little by little and shatters it in the air, leaving no trace of the conversation that just happened on Wonsik's balcony.