“Maybe we’ll meet again, when we’re slightly older and our minds less hectic, and I’ll be right for you and you’ll be right for me. But right now I am chaos to your thoughts and you are poison to my heart.”

“do you think about us at all?”

the fights. (“why don’t you just grow up?!”)

the arguments. (“okay, but mac n’ cheese is so much better than pizza.”)

the empty conversations. (“how are you?”)

the way her fingers seemed to fit with his. sometimes, he thinks about it all. but when they sit on the grass, staring at the sky, he notices the way the light hits her, she’s almost too beautiful to be with someone like him. he tries to force himself to tell himself that this is only a phase. and when he finally tries to memorizes the words, it becomes the truth. he tries to figure out that the words someone else tells her, tries to overanalyze it all, but nayeon’s blind and she trusts him more than she should.

he passes his bottle of peach moscato to her, tells her to drink the rest of it, and they still sit in the grass that itches too much, staring at the sky that doesn’t shine for her. (it shines for no one and some days, he wishes that it shines for him.)

when nayeon’s drunk, she texts anyone. when she finishes the bottle, her mind is an empty mess. it doesn’t focus, it doesn’t answer questions, it just continues to roar at ninety-five miles per hours with all the brakes broken. and peach moscato tastes terrible, but brian offered it to her so she might as well keep going.

“he was texting a girl when we were right beside each other.” they’re words that she usually doesn’t offer to brian at this kind of hour. the sky seems to breathe then. as though it’s been waiting for those exact words, the invitation to be alive. brian doesn’t say anything, he continues to drink the beer he found at a quick mart. she tries her best to calm the nerves in her that are too busy trying to get her to speak more, speak anything. she’s drunk, he’s not even close to being wasted. the trees start to whisper into the night.

“he told her, he missed her, if she wanted to come over tonight.”

it’s all a story now. she doesn’t cry when she explains that she almost has with a man who doesn’t love her. she doesn’t cry when she tells him that he doesn’t want to pursue a relationship with her any longer through a text. she doesn’t cry, and brian isn’t sure if this is the weakest she’s ever been or if it’s the strongest. there is nothing left to say about this one, this guy who used to have her heart. she drives off a cliff.

brian looks at her, she looks back. it kind of burns, sitting there, waiting for something or anything to happen.

“do you think about us?”

it’s a question she comes across too many times when she stares blankly at the people in front of her. the world is too intoxicated with their own problems to even notice the blood that splattered on the sidewalk. but whenever she looks at brian, she knows he’s hiding his own dagger behind his back, the kind that she’s used to because she’s the one who put it back there. there’s a pool of blood that appears whenever she’s near him.

nayeon thinks about the fact that they could be something more if she just let it happen. she thinks about the struggles that may come with every little effort he puts in. she drinks the wine again, he sips from the beer bottle. her fantasies disappear with every drink she takes and brian becomes disinterested with every moment he doesn’t speak.

“i don’t chase after people who put me on the back burner.”

brian says it. he turns to her and shrugs his shoulders. they’re not in love. every part of his body is warm, nayeon isn’t the sun or the moon or the stars in the sky. and she certainly isn’t one to be the next person to fall in love with. the anger boils in him, she picks a guy who obviously doesn’t care about her emotions. the wind picks up. the shadows pick up on his sorrows.

nayeon deserves it, thick-skinned and selfish. brian always bandages her wounds. she continues to pick at scabs that don’t need to be picked off. whispers her happiness into his ears, and yet they sit in the middle of a park, staring at a sky that doesn’t beat for any of them.

because, brian isn’t in love with her. he doesn’t think much more about the words she tickles him with. he is indifferent to the stories she has to tell. it isn’t the poison that he pricks his fingers with anymore. nayeon chose someone else and so now he sits in a park, trying to get the burning off his legs because nayeon forgets that he’s allergic to grass.

“i used to think we could be something.”

except their limbs are too different for each other. their colors don’t match and attach in the way they should. nayeon knows that. she knows it every time they used to hold hands or the way she texts him and how he replies. they just don’t complement each other. most days, she’s yelling at him and he forgives her anyways. other days, he’s pointing out her flaws and she’s accepting it. whatever they are, it’s not healthy and it should never be that flawed.

he has a way of forcing illness down and she has a way of murder. what they are is a twisted game of all the shakespearean plays they read about in high school. the only real tragedy is that they’re too busy trying to kill each other to notice the damage they’re doing.

things could have been different, nayeon supposes. if she stared at brian long enough, she would notice the way he checks up on her. she’d notice that he would be worried about her in the middle of finals. if she stared long enough, she would notice that cassiopeia was in the sky, and that the constellation is beautiful. but instead, she’s blind and everything she’s ever seen weren’t there.

she still doesn’t notice that brian’s whole leg is red. brian doesn’t see that nayeon is too drunk to be understood. and so they don’t say anything. they forget that there was anything to be said. instead, she lays her head on his shoulder. he takes her hand into his. they both have a penchant of being ripped open and trying to put the pieces of their heart back together.

a/n; FOR KISOAP. BECAUSE SHE IS THE LEE GWANGSOO TO MY SONG JOONGKI.
honestly, don't know what i'm doing here. i don't. i just. what. i tried. i'm very sorry for the
badly written-ness. i'll try again another day. lol.