It Was Your World, Baby, And I Just Lived In It

Before Jongin, Luhan doesn’t quite know who he was.

His friends say laidback and his parents say studious.

Jongin says he was a knot waiting to be unraveled, pulled too tight and tied so intricately, only he could undo it. He was a young man in college with no real aim or dream, clinging onto what was left of his parents’ expectations.

Luhan's past is really just a memory; a broken shard scattered among other lost recollections.

With Jongin he’s something else, a loose shoelace that hasn’t been tied back up— not just yet. With Jongin, he still doesn’t know who he is. He lets Jongin control him like a marionette, fingers dancing down the bumps of his spine and tracing the line of his jaw.

With Jongin, there is doubt; doubt and lust mistaken for love. Love that Luhan is quick to claim because the way Jongin touches him feels a lot like it.

Their relationship ends with Jongin saying he’s no good for him, they’re both no good. And two people with no real resolve aren’t going to amount to much.

Jongin has a purpose, Luhan realizes, to answer the questions he never thought he’d find answers to.

A boy without resolve, that’s what Luhan was.