*****

Taemin’s gaze was all too familiar. Minho never failed to notice it despite never wanting to.

The way his eyes found that one person in the room in a fraction of a second. The way they lingered on that person so fondly. The way they grew dejected eventually. The way his dejectedness seeped into his behavior all day long thereafter.

It was a common occurrence for Taemin.

And spotting it every time was a common occurrence for Minho.

Because the way Taemin gazed at him … was the same way Minho gazed at Taemin.
 

***

They were classmates in high school. They became casual friends soon after.

They became flatmates when they got into university. They became good friends soon after.

University was almost done and they were in different majors. Coincidences would be scarce in the future—coincidences that would put them next to each other.

Good friends.

Perhaps, that’s the most Minho and Taemin were destined to be.

It had been years, yet Minho lingered on the boundary, knowing well he could never cross it.

Taemin had been lingering on similar boundaries, but unlike Minho, he tried crossing them often. His efforts were subtle yet his heart always got broken in gruesome ways. And quite often, Minho was there to witness it.

Yet, there was nothing he could do. To stop Taemin from trying. To stop the object of his affections from dismissing his feelings in oblivion, or perhaps, on purpose. There was nothing he could do to console Taemin. All he could do was just stand witness… and watch him gather his broken pieces and then, gradually prepare himself to try again.

Minho could never be that persistent. It was his nature to be determined, to be competitive, to win. But only if it were a battle he could win. He had long realized he was fighting a losing one… and he should have long given up as well. 

He couldn't be persistent, but as unfortunate as it was, it wasn’t in his nature to yield.

*****
 

There were always reasons a person found a place in someone’s heart. Taemin had many and there was a point of time when they were lucid. Somewhere in the waves of passing time, in the torrents of heartache, he had forgotten what they were. Perhaps, they didn’t exist anymore… and what existed was a tempest of emotions that those reasons had left behind before fading.

And that was what he deemed love was. Emotions that need not have reasons to exist.

This tempest raged in different ways. Pleasantly when he was around, when he smiled, when he called his name. Whenever he spoke, Taemin listened with bated breath.

He often spoke words that put Taemin in the highest spirits he had ever been in.

But he also spoke words that tore his heart to pieces.

It was a brutal cycle, loving him.

But that was all Taemin did despite knowing better.

He was too hard to give up on, and there were moments Taemin thought he should. But it meant giving up his entire self… because the place he held in his heart was immeasurable. The depths to which Taemin felt for him were endless… and thus, he couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop until he could see it to the end… an end that was never in his sights.

Or perhaps, he had always been blind to it… because he only realized it was the end when it was upon him.

There was much he had to do. Pack his stuff. Clean his room. Finish the exit formalities for his apartment. Pick up his degree from the student office.

He had to think about what he had to do from here on. Think about things apart from him… things apart from his selfish heart that still raged a tempest in his conscience, pushing him to try just one last time.

The weight of it all choked him.

And there was nothing he could do about it because he had finally landed on it. The rock-hard ground at the end of this seemingly endless pit.

He had done nothing out of the norm, nothing out of his comfort zone. He hadn’t been direct about his feelings, he never had, he was too cowardly for it. Too afraid of what a clear answer could cause to his existence.

But today, he had. He had been direct. Taemin had not even asked, yet he gave him many reasons why they couldn’t be.

And Taemin could say nothing… because he had no reasons to speak. No reasons to say why they could be.

If only time could stand still. Taemin needed time. Time to gather his broken pieces in a way that they wouldn’t yearn for him when they would mend again.

But all he had was a day to leave this place and move on. It was nowhere enough to even pick up the shattered pieces of his heart and notions. They were all over the place… and Taemin didn’t know where he was. Where his feet had taken him in his heartbreak.

Everything was blurry around him. The sound of rain overpowered his ragged breathing and the raindrops that hit his skin concealed his mourning.

The crash of the rain turned dull and Taemin broke from his listlessness. The rain now poured over an umbrella and not on him. Standing by his side, getting his shoulder drenched to keep him sheltered was Minho.

With the little patch of his vision that had cleared, he finally understood where he was. All this while, he had been standing by the gate of his dormitory.

Taemin looked away. Minho was also watching the rain pour over the street in front, saying no word.

But Minho should have. He should have done more. Then, perhaps, it could have pushed Taemin to do more.

Taemin wouldn’t have taken his chances so lightly. Maybe, the odds could have been in his favor back then. But he reminded himself that maybe, just maybe… his odds had always been against him. Just like Minho’s had been. Still are.

Yet, there was so much Minho did for him. Giving him space and silence. Picking up some of his chores while he let himself mend. Putting a proper meal into his side of the refrigerator on the days he locked himself in his room.

Sheltering him from the harsh rain.

It wasn’t enough to console him and Minho wasn’t trying to. He never tried to.

But his silences and trivial gestures at least made it a little easy to get back on track when his healing was done.

But, not this time. Taemin had no strength to heal himself again and Minho’s consideration was in vain. Perhaps, he was destined to stay broken. Minho was too.

“I read this somewhere,” Taemin started, “That the one you love and the one who loves you are never ever the same person.”

Minho was silent in response.

“If that is true,” Taemin continued, “I don’t understand how people who love each other exist.”

“They wouldn’t,” Minho finally said, “If love wasn’t a fickle thing.”

The rain began to lessen.

“Only because love is fickle,” Minho spoke again. This time his voice was softer, “We fall out of it. Or get over its failure. And find someone to love again.”

The downpour came to a staggering halt. Minho shifted his umbrella and closed it before he put it in Taemin’s hands. “Isn’t it a relief?” He asked, giving him a smile that was melancholic at the edges, “That love is a fickle thing?”

But Taemin couldn’t answer him. He couldn’t—and just wouldn’t—agree with him.

Because of the mind frame that he was in, he wanted to never fall out of it, never get over him.

Never find someone else to love again.

***

A couple of years had passed and Taemin had been to many places. He had accomplished a lot. He had failed at a lot more. But he had something going on. Something that had found a place in his heart.

It was something small, but it helped him forget that there was a lot more within him that was empty. Hollow.

Yet, Taemin never attempted to fill all that space.

Because in his mind and heart he was still where he always had been when his love had come to an end.

He thought of it often, of that day he had spent hours standing in the rain. He had fallen sick right after and it was a blessing in disguise because he had something to blame, something that could mask his pain.

It was still vivid in his mind. Those few memories… and strangely that was all he remembered.

Just like the way the reasons he loved him had failed to root themselves in his mind, the moments he cherished of him had faded. With them, some of the emotions had faded as well. A tempest didn’t rage within him… but Taemin believed it was only laying low. A trigger would set it free from the chains of time. It was why he kept himself away from every trace of him.

But more often than not, he thought of Minho. It was a given because he was there when everything had ended. Moreover, he had spoken something that Taemin had pondered over several times. His thoughts had deconstructed every word and analyzed every idea that the sentence could have led to. It was one of the ways he had passed his time when it passed torturously slow.

And he finally had concluded on something he could’ve answered Minho with.

The regret of not having concluded on it sooner, the regret of not having spoken it returned to his mind randomly, often when he was doing the simplest of tasks such as taking a shower or waiting for his toast in front of the toaster.

It was an annoying little tick that he had the urge to take care of but he just couldn’t. 

Because Minho was gone and Taemin didn’t have any reasons, except for this trivial one, to find him again.
 

***
 

As more time passed, Taemin didn’t remain stuck in that day where he had fallen to the end of the pit, too pained to move on.

The tempest didn’t rage and Taemin had finally understood that the reason for it was that it no longer existed. It had taken a chance meeting with him for Taemin to realize… that he was no longer a trigger, or any