I never mentioned what I had heard him say, never dared to push him further than he was comfortable with.  Instead I kept him by my side for four years, tucked away in the safety of my arms, earning his trust back with every second we spent together.

                He got better with time, and it was easier to keep myself from becoming discouraged when he was diagnosed with a minor case of post-traumatic stress disorder.  At some point, I stopped trying to get him to face his fears and take a drive with me, and I let him recover at a snail’s pace, let him sketch me to perfection—which he deemed “impossible”—until half of his sketches were of different angles of my face, let him have his occasional slip, where I would pull him into me and tell him I was there, he could trust me, there was nothing to be afraid of.

                When Chanyeol was given the opportunity to study abroad after college, he beat around the bush for ages, only feeding me hints as time passed.  Until.

                “Hey, Chanyeol?” I murmured, fingers pressed hard into the paper as I read through the first few sentences repeatedly until the ink seemed to blend together and bleed off the page.

                “Yeah?”  He emerged from the bathroom, toweling through his hair lightly.

                “Did you apply for an overseas scholarship?”

                I looked up at him and watched as his eyes faltered and he looked away, drying off slowly.  “Why do you ask?”

                “Because you got it.”  There was something wrong with my voice, like glass had shattered in my throat.  “Because you’ve been buying clothes you’d never wear here.”  I walked toward him, each step closer to our separation.  “Because you want to go.  That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me, isn’t it?”

                He made a little sound in the back of his throat as if he wanted to deny it, wanted to say no, he wasn’t leaving, but when he met my eyes, I knew it was happening.

                “I—”

                “You should go.”

                I took in the flutter of his lashes as he blinked at me in confusion, took in the outline of his jaw, the curve of his lips as he struggled for words.  Took it all in because I knew it wouldn’t be long before I would have to say goodbye.

                “What?”

                “You’ll do well.  You don’t get a chance like this every day.”  With an attempt at a smile, I ruffled his damp hair.  “Do me proud.”

                He paused for a moment.  “Come with me.”

                “What am I going to do in a country where I can’t even speak the language?”

                “Be a dance teacher.  You’re good at that.  I just—can’t you come?  I can’t—I can’t just leave you.”

                “I have a job, Chanyeol, a pretty stable one for someone with my level of education.  I want you to go because it’s a big opportunity, but I can’t just drop everything to go with you.  You know that.”

                “But…”  He searched my eyes desperately.  “How—what am I supposed to do without you?”

                “I’ll be right here, and I’ll call you until I can’t pay my phone bill anymore, and you’ll be absolutely fine.  Stick a sketch of my face on your wall.  You’ve been doing well this year.  You will be fine.  Trust me.”

                And he was.

                But I should’ve known when his outings with friends increased by the day, when he said he was having the time of his life.

                Should’ve known when our calls became two minute check-ins at the end of the week.

                When the storm clouds rolled in as we breathed in silence over the phone.

                When lightning struck and the willow fell to its death.

                That we wouldn’t last.

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Oh my god I'm so sorry I wasn't able to update for like a month.  And sorry if this chapter is a little fast.  I don't really like to drag out my story lines haha.

Anyway, thank you guys for reading!  :)