To you.

(the one I couldn't protect)

.

.

.

I am living now in the unhappiest happiness imaginable. Yet, strangely, I have no regrets.

- Ryûnosuke Akutagawa

It was late by the time Jongin finally got home. The sun had long since disappeared, taking its light with it. Jongin felt an emotional fatigue invading his mind; his body was still awake, but he yearned for rest, a comfortable place to lay down with the weight of Taemin's head on his shoulder.

Once he stepped inside, he slid his shoes off with the intent of calling out to let his lover know he was home. But he didn't. Instead, he froze with his mouth still hanging open and his heartbeat quickly rising. There was a voice coming from the living room, one that he knew very well. One that pierced his heart and made him cringe with pain. Jongin closed his eyes and exhaled slowly before he made his way down the hall, walking gently on the balls of his feet to keep from startling his lover.

As he stood in the doorway, a soft laugh bounced around the room. It faded into a sigh, and then the voice began speaking again.

Jongin's eyes fell to the slumped form on the couch. Taemin was laying on his back, hair messy, face pale, and glassy eyes fixed on the opposite wall. One of his arms was dangling off the side of the couch, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the carpet. A small book lay closed right next to Taemin's face.

Jongin approached his lover slowly. Softly. Carefully. He shuffled his feet on the floor just enough to make Taemin aware of his presence, but he knew his lover wasn't paying attention to him. He was somewhere else, lost, listening to Jonghyun's voice as it continued playing through the speakers.

Jongin knelt down in front of him and slowly raised a hand towards Taemin's hair, gently brushing his fingers through the dark, tangled strands.

"Taemin?"

He called the name in a whisper.

Remaining still, Taemin only blinked, but it was slow, like he didn’t want to open them again, like he didn’t want to look at Jongin.

Jongin continued his hair with as much tenderness as he could. He leaned down to press a very soft kiss to Taemin's hand, the one laying on the man's chest. He waited for Jonghyun to stop talking. He didn’t speak again until he heard a song begin to play.

"Taemin? Can you hear me, Love?"

He watched as Taemin blinked again before turning his blurry gaze towards him. Jongin gave him a small smile and tried to look comforting. And calm. He didn’t want to seem worried. Or upset. Even though he was.

"Can you talk?" Jongin asked.

He watched his lover shake his head, so slightly that it was barely even a movement. Just a soft press of his cheek against the couch.

"Should I leave you alone?"

Taemin tilted his head to the side again, his eyes filling with tears. Jongin brushed his knuckles against his lover’s cheek before cupping it in his palm to soothe and reassure him. To let him know that he wasn't going anywhere.

He didn't like to leave Taemin alone when the pain came back, too much. But sometimes, that was what Taemin needed. They had talked about it so many times already. Sometimes, there was nothing left to say.

It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul.

- William Styron (Darkness Visible)

The song came to an end, and Jonghyun started speaking again. Taemin’s eyes immediately closed, and Jongin could feel how his body tensed at the sound.

"Jongin?"

Taemin's voice was hoarse, faint, weak. Jongin instinctively moved closer to make sure he wouldn't miss the smallest whisper Taemin might let out.

"Yes, Love?"

"Could you hold me?"

Jongin leaned back slightly as he pulled Taemin up as gently as he could. He kept one hand on Taemin’s arm as he moved to sit next to his lover. Then, delicately, as if Taemin were made of glass, Jongin lifted him onto his lap and pulled him against his chest. He shifted them slowly, not counting on the very few, feeble movements that Taemin was able to make.

He pulled Taemin closer until their bodies pressed completely against each other. Taemin shifted just enough to press his face into Jongin's neck, then he sighed.

"Tighter, please."

Jongin pulled him closer, squeezing his arms until he heard Taemin gasp.

"Tighter."

Jongin grimaced, but he tried. He held Taemin as tight as he possibly could, and he felt it when his lover broke into sobs. It made him close his eyes in sorrow. Taemin's tears were rare. Overwhelming. Devastating.

"What happened?" Jongin murmured softly.

It wasn't the first time Jongin had come home to find Taemin lost in pain. It wasn't the first time he had heard a recording of Jonghyun's radio show playing in his living room. It wasn't the first time he had tried, so desperately, to pick up the pieces of his boyfriend's shattered heart.

Sometimes, there wasn’t a reason. Sometimes, it just happened.

But other times, there was a trigger. Sometimes, there was something that forced Taemin into dark, distressing thoughts.

"I forgot," Taemin gasped out.

Jongin bent his neck to press his lips against Taemin's temple.

"I forgot he's dead," Taemin sobbed.

Jongin tightened his embrace.

Taemin gasped again, trying to breathe. Trying to think. Trying to speak.

"I was reading that book-..." Taemin started. "Jongin-ah, do you remember? The books? I got them from his sister... The books-... His books... They're marked, right? You remember?"

"Yes, I do."

"He always marks the passages he likes."

Jongin remembered.

One night, he had found Taemin curled up under a blanket, weeping silently. One night, Taemin had read a book from Jonghyun's library and had broken down in tears because so many sentences were marked.

Some of them had shaken Jongin deeply. He remembered the intense suffering caused just by reading them.

I thought, "I want to die. I want to die more than ever before. There’s no chance now of a recovery." 

- Osamu Dazai (No Longer Human)

"I was reading that book-..." Taemin said again, and Jongin's gaze fell to the book still laying on the couch.

Tender is the night. The cover was pretty, Jongin thought.

"Is it one of his?"

"No."

The recording came to an end, and they were suddenly enveloped by silence. It was crushing. Overwhelming.

"I was reading it... and I noticed a good sentence," Taemin huffed. "I saw it and thought 'Oh, Jonghyun would love that.' I thought... that I wanted to tell him. For a second-... Just for a second, I was so excited. I-... I was-..."

Taemin choked, and Jongin realized that his embrace had loosened. He tightened his hold again. How he wished his arms could be enough to protect his lover from pain.

Taemin didn’t break down as often as he had, months before. He was calmer. Most of the time. But whenever the grief returned, Jongin felt helpless. Small. Weak.

They remained silent for a moment. The only thing Jongin could hear was Taemin's shaken breaths, broken up by quiet sniffles.

"I'm sorry, Jongin," Taemin's voice was barely even a whisper.

"Please, don't."

Jongin moved one of his hands to Taemin's hair again, fingers threading through it in the hopes of soothing him, somehow. He gently kissed his boyfriend's forehead, again and again until he felt Taemin relax on top of him.

"I miss him... so much..."

Jongin cupped Taemin's face in his hands, tilting it up so that their eyes met. He tried to keep his gaze soft, to let it speak for him. To say that he loved him more than anything. That he understood. That he was there.

There were no words he could say. They all felt meaningless, empty, almost hurtful. 'I know,' he almost said. But it didn't feel right. Nothing felt right. So he just looked at him instead, and soon he could see gratitude in Taemin's eyes.

Jongin wondered if there was anything he could say. What words were okay to tell Taemin when he felt so lost. If ones existed, Jonghyun would have known them. Maybe that was one of the things that hurt the most.

"I have so many memories," Taemin sighed, his voice suddenly sounding calm. Unwavering. "But there's one that keeps coming back to me today. I haven’t thought about it for so long... But it came back. And now it won't leave."

"Do you want to tell me?"

Taemin didn't react so Jongin waited. It took almost a minute for him to raise his eyes and look back at Jongin. He was frowning slightly as if he needed to think about something. Jongin didn't know what.

"There's a myth about depression..."

Jonghyun's voice was small, but the room was so quiet that Taemin had no trouble hearing him. They were lying next to each other under a blanket. Jonghyun was looking at the crescent moon behind the window, and Taemin was looking at Jonghyun.

"Or rather..." Jonghyun sighed, "there's a misconception. The idea that depression is loneliness, you know... It's not true."

"How so?"

"Too often, people will say 'It gets better. You're not alone.' and-... I think a lot of depressed people do feel alone and unloved... It's a sad reality. But sometimes... some people-... I don't feel alone. Some people don't. I know that I’m loved. There are so many people around me who love me and support me unconditionally but-... the depression... it's still there, you know."

Taemin wasn't sure what to say. He tried.

"I'm glad you know that..."

He spoke softly like he was scared to say something wrong. Because if he was wrong but he said it low enough, maybe Jonghyun wouldn't hear it and be upset because Taemin didn't know something better to say.

Jonghyun smiled. It wasn't a bitter smile, but it was almost sad. Something between happiness and unhappiness.

"Being loved... sometimes it makes things more complicated. The pain is still there. The suffering, the questions, the exhaustion... it's all still there. And when I hear 'you're not alone,' I say, 'thank you' and think 'I know.' It's even more tiring. I am loved, and yet I am so unhappy. I am loved, but it isn't enough. I am sorry that it isn't enough. And then, I feel ashamed. I feel guilty. I wish it was enough. I wish love could cure me, but it doesn't. And I feel like a failure."

"I didn't know what to say."

"Sometimes there isn’t anything to say."

Taemin nodded. His eyes were still on Jongin, but he wasn't looking at him. He curled up, resting against his lover again, closing his eyes when Jongin held him tight. Tighter. Tighter.

"He explained a lot to me. When I think back on it, I feel like he wanted to prepare me. To comfort me in advance. He explained everything so that I wouldn't think it was my fault. But I still feel like I failed him. I keep thinking 'what if he was wrong, and I could have done something?'. Or 'what if I had known what to say?'."

Jongin closed his eyes.

"What if he could have never had to suffer like that?" Jongin whispered, and Taemin’s eyes widened.

Taemin thought about the unbearable unfairness of it all. It brought tears to his eyes, but he held them back. He was too exhausted now to be angry at anything.

I had lost even the ability to suffer.

- Osamu Dazai (No Longer Human)

"Yes," he said. "What if he could have never had to suffer..."

"Taemin?"

"Yes?"

"Could you hold me?"

"Of course. Come here."

"Tighter, please."

"Tighter."

I don't have the strength to keep writing this. To go on living with this feeling is painful beyond description. Isn't there someone kind enough to strangle me in my sleep?

- Ryûnosuke Akutagawa (Spinning gears)

.

.

.

.

.

.

♥

thank you for reading.