[CONTENTID1] Shattered [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2] Oneshot [/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3] I hope you enjoy! [/CONTENTID3]

[CONTENTID4] Namjoon was sat in one of the plush chairs in the luxurious apartment you and he shared together. He didn’t know how long he’d been sat there, in the darkness, staring into the distance and nursing his glass of whiskey. He was leaving, he knew you wouldn’t care. The pain at that thought was like a dagger to his heart.

Namjoon hated himself at this precise moment in time. He’d never had enough time for you, never given you enough attention or treated you the way you deserved, too caught up in his career.

He’d had to keep you a secret, the fans couldn’t know about you. He’d leave for months on end for tours, leaving you alone. His schedule would become so hectic that he couldn’t make time for you, even if he was in Seoul. Why couldn’t he have just made a little bit of time for you?

Neither of you had thought that him pursuing his dreams would affect your love for him the way that it had. He’d always loved you more than he had anything else, even music, but he’d failed to show you what was deep inside his heart. The disgust he felt toward himself for that was like a tsunami roaring through him.

He’d cried so much since you’d told him you didn’t want this anymore, he hadn’t thought he had any more tears left. He’d been wrong. The salty river running down his cheeks was a testament to that.

He’d found himself waking up in the middle of the night, tears running down in his face, crying in his sleep. He’d tried so hard to hang on to you, the love that you’d shared, even though your love for him had disappeared when you’d met the man who was able to give you the things that he couldn’t.

You’d been together for so long, he’d never thought that this was a possibility. You’d happily followed him to Seoul when he’d moved here in his quest to get his music heard. He’d succeeded, but at a price higher than he knew he’d have to pay.

He’d been so busy, he hadn’t even noticed how with each time he would be able to see you, your smiles would become more forced, a pain deep in your eyes that he would see if only he would just pay enough attention.

You’d pretended that it was OK that he couldn’t be seen out with you in public, that he wouldn’t return home for weeks at a time, that he never just took the time to hold you anymore. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d told you he loved you, and he felt ashamed of himself. H