Seated here where he calls his favorite place on planet earth, with our legs dangling below the edge of the walls open to the thing air of the high ground – inhaling the scent of the dawning dew and blooming flowers; with his fingers gently intertwined on mine – I can tell that his closed eye lids wish for things in his heart from the stars and the moon just above us.

With him seated next to me, I feel as if I’d reach the moon if I’d just reach for it. It had always been how he had made me feel.
Following his closed gaze I look up to the galaxies of stars speard ahead of us in vivid color – and closes my own eyes, inhaling peace. I feel it’s allowed to make a wish at the moment, and I feel it’s not greedy to wish so. I wasn’t asking for much.

‘Please let him love me.’

A pleading, innocent request of my love – laid down against the stars he liked so much. Against the half-moon and its silvery glow ahead of our closed eyes, I could only wish for his love. For that; his effort to love me was always fruitless.

The look in his eyes when he looks into mine, and the slight tremble in his fingers when I’d dare to place my lips upon his tell me he’s trying. The glister of sheer determination when he looks into me thinking ‘ah, he’s kind…’ is so loud in his expressions I feel as if I was gifted with sorcery to read his timid mind.

The gentle smile the falls upon his lips when I make effort to lift his mood; speaks to me,,,, and tells me that he’s thankful that I was here for him to hold hands with.

Everything between us had been gentle beyond limits of endurance. I’d be filth if it had only been me suffocating. He’s suffering in the other end of the corner of this un-named relationship, and every time he sighs into my shoulder – I can say that he’s the one who is hurt here.

It’s not me trying to reach for an un-requited love. It’d be rude and inhuman – even; to think that it had always been me suffocating the consequences of falling in love with a man who wasn’t the type to let go of feelings, but to harbor onto them and live life as if it had been his reason of existence. It’s not my fault for falling in love with him, and had not been his fault that I had fallen in love with him.

We do not blame anyone. There’s no one who had done wrong or unforgivable. Men will be men, and love shall be casted upoun them. I do not blame his memories nor his blind faith, or nor do I blame myself. I love him, and we had both come to terms in that.

Just that we had admitted so, doesn’t mean I feel happier when he places his lips on my own with one of his gentle smiles on his lips, his eyes thanking me in a language I’ve never known that was understtod by me. I cannot disagree with how my heart feels just a bit lighter when he would be the one to run his hands around my waist, or even simply; just caress my fingers with his own.

I can’t deny that I’m happy when he tells me he’s trying; and for now – or for as long as he would want; I’ll be gratitude for the bit he can give me, because he – has given a bigger share of his heart to someone who had left him.

They had been in love, and I’d feel it every time Himchan would look up to a day of full moon with his eyes burning in passion, with his lips trembling slightly – his muscles of expression falling everywhere because he didn’t know how to handle how he felt on the nights he felt that his memories were awakened, I cannot deny the heavy tug in my heart that rips something deep inside me gently than I knew possible. The pain is numbing when I realize that ‘no matter how much he tries, those eyes full of excitement and youth aren’t meant for me.’ I cannot deny that my heart hurts to know that all he can offer me is kindness and what I can offer him back is gratitude and sympathy.

As I watch how he gazes into the stars in his pajamas, with a lazy towel over his cold neck as he rubs his hands for the bit of warmth he seeks, I can’t deny that I’m hurt over the glass that I watch you by in the second floor of your house, with the curtains dragged apart specially to see his long legs against the muddy grass of the lawn he refuses to take care of.

I’m hurt because he cannot love me. Even if he wanted to.

-

Ur.. idk random drabble. Who do you think it must have been?