His nimble fingers ghost over the too bright phone screen in the dark, and it’s 2am, but Jongin doesn’t really care. He scans through the old messages between the both of them, despite there being too many and impossible to finish reading by morning. The boy knows he’s not going to get a good rest. Not tonight, at least.

Even though the device’s screen is a little blinding and forces his eyes to squint, Jongin wears a little smile on his face as he scrolls through the texts; Some of the messages with slightly hurtful words, and others that manage to make his stomach turn in so many different ways. In a good way of course.

Jongin doesn’t want to let go.

As much as he wants to and has to, he can’t.

He tries to forget all that’s happened between them, and that he, that angel, had never crossed paths with him before. But it wasn’t exactly easy to forget someone who you had fit with like a jigsaw puzzle; or said words to that you would never tell anyone else. The blonde male held a special place in Jongin’s heart, although it was probably just a one-way thing, as of the moment anyway.

Sighing inaudibly, he turns to his side and stares at the furry object sitting upright and facing him. “In case you miss me too much,” Luhan told him when he shoved the stuffed toy teddy bear in Jongin’s face on his birthday, before his eyes turned into crescent shaped moons and he kissed the ravenette, whispering words of happy birthday and I love you against his lips.

It’s really quite hard to forget someone when everything around you reminds you of them.

Luhan had left Jongin’s apartment quite a fair bit ago, but there were still remnants of him in every corner of the house. Jongin would be doing his laundry when he’d find a stray underwear amongst his clothes, or he’d often wake up from a bad dream with cold sweat running down his forehead, needing some sort of comfort — But only to find he’s sleeping in a half empty bed. It was depressing, in all honesty, but there was only so much one could do.

The memories hurt, but Jongin hung on to them anyway. Kyungsoo hates to see him like this. He tells the younger boy to let go, and to delete Luhan’s phone number, his messages, and everything off of his phone, just to clear Jongin’s mind of everything that happened and possibly dig him out of his misery. Jongin agreed. But Jongin had lied.

Jongin-ah, are you still awake? Good, because I wanted to tell you I love you!

Jongin misses Luhan. He misses how the Chinese boy smells like sweet vanilla, or how soft his honey coloured locks are, and the cute little button nose that he likes to kiss often. He misses seeing the pale skin in contrast to his tanned olive skin, or burying his head into the crook of Luhan’s neck. He misses the sound of the other’s voice lulling him to sleep with a soft lullaby — And probably the way soft pants leave his lips as well as other variations of Jongin’s name while their bed creaks in protest at their actions. He misses everything about Xi Luhan, and it ing hurts because he thinks — No, he knows, he’s the only one suffering.

The dancer knows Luhan is doing much better without him. Jongin never thought he was a good boyfriend to begin with. He flared up easily at almost anything, and his jealousy always got in the way of their relationship. But time after time, Luhan still put everything aside and forgave him, despite the amount of pain Jongin caused him every single time they quarreled. Jongin never failed to make Luhan cry every time they fought, and that was one thing he simply hated himself for. Because making an angel cry would probably be the worst of the mortal sins that would have him sent to hell in the afterlife. Yet Luhan was still as loving as ever and could never bring himself to get mad at Jongin, which only made the younger love him even more.

Their love went on for awhile, close to 6 months to be exact. It wasn’t a long time, but one of the longest Jongin had ever been in a relationship, and enough to have him feeling like a lovesick fool. The first few months was pure bliss, but after awhile, it just got stale. The times that they cuddled didn’t happen often anymore, and the distance between them started to grow. The both of them knew it, but neither refused to admit it. It was just a few days before their half a year anniversary, when Jongin decided to end it. He didn’t know where he was going with it, and he couldn’t have chosen a better time to bring it up. But he knew Luhan was no longer happy in the relationship, and Jongin just didn’t want to be the one who deprived him of his happiness.

Their farewell was nothing like what you saw in the movies. It was a calm agreement made with scarcely functioning hearts, mendacious eyes that refused to meet each other, and the absence of the words which haunted each fiber of Jongin’s being; the words he wanted so badly to say, yet could never bring himself to —

We can start again.

But Jongin knew it wasn’t possible.

He wipes the dried tear tracks on his face, although it’s really not of much use, and places his phone on the bedside table. He knows he’ll be going through tomorrow’s schedule with puffy, swollen eyes, and while others think it’s just because of the lack of sleep, the other members know the reason behind it. Jongin opts to curl up in bed and clutches the bear close to his chest, falling asleep not too long after, dreaming of the times and memories when his life was a lot happier.

And Jongin doesn’t want to let go.