It takes him a while to gather up the courage to reach out and graze his knuckles against the cold wood of what used to be his and Jongin's front door. It's been a while since Kyungsoo's been back - the wooden flooring out in the hall is the same shade of discoloured brown, the same off-white shade peeling off the walls. Everything looks the same, but something - something hangs differently in the air. There's an intangible sense of change hovering just by his ears, and he tries to shrug it off, but it clings to him the way a moth desperately chases the light.

It's well past Jongin's regular dinner time, the illuminated face of Kyungsoo's watch tells him. In fact, it's close to midnight now - Jongin's bound to be home. He's sure to be.

Still the hesitation lingers on Kyungsoo's fingertips, still the pause that sits between his fist and the door hovers so ominously around him he feels as though it were a cloak of dark velvet, suffocating him with its silence.

He shakes his head. It's now or never.

The knocks he leaves are loud and brisk, but they're drowned out by the sound of his heart hammering in his ears. His lips tremble as he tries to force them into a smile, his fist shaking just the slightest where it's tensed against his side.

He hears slow footsteps approaching and tries to adjust his breathing to match each one. One, two, three.

It doesn't work.

He hears the footsteps grow louder, he can tell that the person on the other side of the door - Jongin - is right there behind it, a few inches of wood and air the only thing physically between them.

And yet, the door doesn't swing open, the rattle of the doorknob being turned isn't heard. It hits him like a loaded ten-wheeler: Jongin doesn't want to see him.

His hands fly to the bottom of his jacket, plays with the hem of it nervously as his eyes grow wide, nervousness eating at his every nerve. 'Jong - Jongin?' He calls, and his voice is a stuttering engine, the words coming out hoarse and rough. 'Hey, Jongin - it's - it's me.'

He waits. Each second stretches out into more in front of him, each moment ticks by excessively slow. Only silence seems to slip through the cracks, and Kyungsoo figures he should try again.

'I'm - Jongin, it's - it's Kyungsoo. I mean - you... You still remember me, righ -'

His words are cut off by a loud thump against the door, the sound startling him enough to make him skid backwards, almost all the way across the corridor.

'Go away!' is hollered at him through the door, and it should terrify him, should hurt him how Jongin's barking those words at him - but it doesn't. They are words without venom, they are words without spite. He recognises the broken tone of Jongin's voice, and tentatively takes a step forward to try again.

'Jongin -'
'I said go away!'
'Jongin! I ca -'
' OFF!'
'I CAME TO SAY I'M SORRY!'

He doesn't get a response. Silence curls fingers around his words and leads them away, and for a long time, neither of them say anything. The only sound that is to be heard is the sound of a television blaring from behind one of the neighbours' doors, and weeknight traffic underway outside the building.

Kyungsoo's mind almost builds an eternity out of the minutes that pass, but the process is halted when the door rattles. He almost rushes up to the door, can feel himself readying his body to meet Jongin's - but the look on the younger's face stops him. Over the last few months without Jongin, he'd never lost sight of the warmth that was usually in the younger's eyes whenever they met his, that twinkle that made him feel like their souls were winking at each other - but none of that was present in his eyes now. None of that warmth was there anymore, there were no traces of a shine or a twinkle anywhere in those irises of his anymore.

It chilled Kyungsoo to the bone.

'All your stuff is in the guest bedroom if you want it,' says Jongin gruffly, jaw clenching as he turns on his heel to walk back to his sofa, where he has papers spread out over the coffee table. He sits himself down and buries his face in his hands, doesn't spare another glance at Kyungsoo. 'You can show yourself out when you're done.'

Kyungsoo stands in the doorway, fidgeting with his hands. He doesn't know what to do next, is torn between doing what Jongin says he should and doing what he came here to do in the first place: talk. Talk, reason, try to win Jongin back. He knows he's done wrong, knows that there are cracks in Jongin now, and that he'd put them there. Still, the smallest sliver of hope lies dormant in his chest, burns just warm enough to make him decide that he should, at least, try. He steps forward, shuts the door behind him.

'Listen, Jongin -'
'I don't want to hear it.'
'Jongin, please,'
'I said I don't want to hear it.'
'Jongin, if you'd just -'

'Shut up!' yells Jongin, his jaw tight and his fists clenching, chest heaving as he glares at Kyungsoo. He gets to his feet, body trembling with rage, and stares the elder down. 'I went months not hearing a single word from you, I don't want to break that streak now.'

Tears begin to well up in Kyungsoo's eyes, but he doesn't wipe them away. 'Jongin,' he says again, so desperately it claws at his skin, and he struggles to find the next words. 'I'm so sorry -'

'When you first left, I couldn't believe it. Did Chanyeol or Baekhyun ever tell you that? The first week, the second and the third - I didn't believe them when they said you weren't coming back. Not for a second.' Jongin spits the words out like poison, and Kyungsoo flinches at the last ones. 'Every single day, I kept thinking you'd come back. The clothes you left behind - I slept in them every night, just waiting for you to come home. And guess what? You never did.'

'Jongin,'

'And then they finally told me, did you know? Right around the two month mark, Chanyeol and Baekhyun sat me down - they sat me down, and they told me -' Jongin pauses, his voice cracking, fraying at the edges - 'that you were done with me. That you didn’t know how to end things with me, so you just left. Just up and left, like it was nothing.’ Disbelief strings up the last few words, and Jongin drops his gaze, lets it linger somewhere above Kyungsoo’s left shoulder instead.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to reply. He doesn’t know what he’s expected to say to that - and maybe it’s because there really isn’t anything he can say. It’s only now, under the soft lighting in the living room of his old apartment - of his home with Jongin - it’s only now that he can really see.

He may have been aching to speak to Jongin again, to have his words heard - but that’s nothing compared to how Jongin must have felt, after all this time. The pain in Kyungsoo’s chest - it doesn’t just ache anymore, it burns - Jongin’s words and Jongin’s stance and how broken the man he loves looks only amplifies the hurt, lights fires underneath his skin.

He swallows.

‘Jongin,’ Kyungsoo starts slowly, tries to find stable ground for him to root his words on. It’s hard when his throat slips on tears and regret, but he’s trying. He goes on when the younger doesn’t stop him. ‘Jongin… I’m so, so sorry. It - it probably doesn’t mean much to you, but I am. I wish - I wish I could take it back. All of it.’

Jongin crumbles at his words. Kyungsoo watches as the younger hangs his head, bites down on his bottom lip when he hears Jongin let out a sob. Slowly Jongin sinks into the couch, all the while covering his face, never letting Kyungsoo see. It doesn’t stop Kyungsoo’s need to comfort him, though. Every bone in his body urges him forward, every inch of his skin longs to touch Jongin.

He takes a step towards Jongin, only to have the latter hold a hand up, stopping him. ‘Don’t,’ says Jongin, his voice small and quiet, just barely above a whisper. ‘I’ll hear you out, whatever. Just - don’t touch me. Don’t come near me anymore.’

Kyungsoo his lips nervously before he begins, takes the time to grasp at the right words. ‘I - There’s no other way to put this, Jongin. I was… Scared. I was so, so scared,’ he says. ‘You and me - we fit together so well, I just – I fell head over heels for you, Jongin. I was so in love with you that I… I got scared.’

‘Of what?’ The chuckle that the words ride on is mirthless. Jongin doesn’t even look in Kyungsoo’s direction, just drops his hands in his lap and speaks. ‘Of being happy? Of spending the rest of your life with me? Is that it?’

‘I was afraid,’ says Kyungsoo, ‘That you’d wake up, one day, and decide – decide that you didn’t want me anymore. I couldn’t – I couldn’t handle the idea of you falling out of love with me, because I – I honestly never would. I just – yeah.’

Jongin falls silent again. He turns the words over in his head, lets Kyungsoo stand there on tenterhooks, before he finally speaks.

‘So basically – you hurt me before I could hurt you. That’s it, right?’

Hearing the words now – it sounds ridiculous, Kyungsoo has to admit. It makes him feel ashamed, makes him want, more than anything, to turn back time, to stop himself from leaving. This – none of this was worth what he and Jongin had.

Jongin hangs his head. ‘You know what’s stupid?’ he says, ruefully, with the air of someone realising they’re about to do something they never thought they would – ‘I wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have ever hurt you – but, well. I guess you didn’t know that.’

Something inside Kyungsoo shatters. It’s as if the floor he’s standing on is falling away, piece by piece, and there’s nothing he can do to patch it back together. This – this is a lost cause. He and Jongin were nothing but a memory swept away in the current, nothing but a shadow stretched into the night. And yet – he still asks. He still needs to know.

‘Do you – do you still love me?’

At this, Jongin looks at him.

It’s the first time this evening that the younger looks at him without malice, the first time tonight that Kyungsoo gets a glimpse of the old Jongin.

The younger lets out a shaky sigh.

‘I finally had the courage to grab all your stuff and put it where I wouldn’t have to see it anymore, Kyungsoo.’ Jongin says, slowly, his words sounding measured and precise. He shakes his head. ‘Am I still – Kyungsoo. Our – my bed doesn’t smell like you anymore. And I’m… I’m finally okay with that.’

The finality of Jongin’s words ring so loudly that it pierces right through to Kyungsoo’s chest, but he finds it’s a duller pain than what he’d expected. It’s a jab with a blunt knife where he’d thought he’d be run through by a freshly-sharpened sword. He’d screwed up the most wonderful thing that would ever, ever happen to him in this lifetime, and probably the next, too, out of nothing but his own sheer stupidity – but now, at least, he could find solace in the fact that Jongin… Jongin was okay.

The fact that he’s lost the love of his life – that he has to keep living without Jongin – all of that, he thinks, is okay. Because Jongin is okay – and that’s what matters.

Kyungsoo doesn’t say another word. He makes his way to the guest bedroom, finds his things neatly packed away in a couple of boxes tucked into a corner of the room. He picks them up, hurries back along to the living room, stops just as he gets to the front door. Jongin doesn’t make any move to see him off, just sits stagnant where he is on the sofa.

‘I’m just – I’m sorry, Jongin. For everything and for tonight. I – hope you find happiness. You deserve it,’ he says. He can’t look at the younger, but he says the next words anyway. ‘I love you. Goodnight.’

He sets the boxes down outside the unit, pulls the door closed behind him. Jongin’s left alone, silence his only companion. He rakes fingers through his hair, pushes himself down so he’s lying on the sofa.

This is stupid. This is all so stupid.

And yet –

He’s alone now, he thinks, and there’s no use lying to himself. There are some things he just can’t deny. How he feels is one of them.

‘I love you too.’