Scars
Words Unspoken
His head was hanging again...
Sitting on a park bench, he hadn’t known where else to go...
He sat almost folded over, his elbows to his knees, and his head hanging down between them. He was trying so hard not to cry. People were passing him by, paying him no mind, but still he did not want to cry in front of them.
He sniffed, the wetness in his eyes threatening to overflow every time a thought passed through his head.
What was he going to do?
Nothing he did seemed right!
He couldn't leave you. He didn't know what would happen and the worry would eat him alive.
He couldn't stay and face this pain. It was too much to bear, his shoulders where only so big. His back could only bend so far until it snapped.
He shouldn't have yelled at you, but he couldn't hold it in anymore...
He was a horrible person...
It was starting to get chillier now, but he ignored the goosebumps rising on his skin, ignored the sudden gusts of wind. The light was starting to dim, the sun going to bed for the night and bringing up the cold hard moon. He used to like the moon, used to like the light it gave off. But now the moon brought nightmares, nights of screaming and yelling. Holding you, only for you to push him away.
He was so tired, tired of this, tired of the moon. Tired of trying to fix something so broken...
But he couldn't stop. He knew that in a few moments he'd be back, trudging back to that house, opening the door to see you huddled there.
He pressed his fingertips in his eyes, trying to stop the pain in them, in his brain, in his heart.
It didn't do the job.
He knew the only thing that would work would be to cut the beating organ from his chest.
He used to run every morning before school, run for a few miles, walk a bit and then run back. It kept him in shape and kept his mind clear. Yet he knew he could never run far enough, fast enough to get away from his mind now. Pushing a hand through his hair, he shook it, the strand now about three inches long. Way too long. He probably looked like a homeless man, but he didn't have the time anymore. His eyes had deep shadows under them, the bags so heavy he could barely keep them open.
He had lost weight from all of this, his frame not providing him much protection from the swift wind slicing through him. He knew it was time to get up and go back, his brain and his heart where screaming at his feet. Only they weren't listening.
"H-hunnie..." A whisper to the wind.
His head jerked up, and he stared straight ahead, sure he had miss heard. He was just wishing for that nickname now. He hadn't heard in so long, it was a physical ache. If he could actually hear it again, he'd never take it for granted.
"Hunnie..." The whisper was strong and to his left, and he turned, his mouth dropped open.
You stood there, huddled inside his jacket, which he had forgotten to take, your hair blowing wildly in the breeze. You looked so frail to him, he was terrified the breeze would whisk you away and slam the door back in the house. He couldn't move, and you took a step toward him, a little wobbly, "Hunnie...I..." He waited patiently, knowing you needed your own time...it had been over six months since you had even stepped foot off the steps of his home.
"I...I'm sorry..." you whispered, the emotion raw in your voice, "I am so sorry."
He breathed out a sigh, hanging his head down for a moment, the relief washing through him. He could just see the gleam of your old self, buried deeply down. His head pushed back up, and he stood up, holding his arms out for you to fall into.
...Which you did.
Snuggling under his chin, away from the wind you wrapped cold fingers around his hips. He resisted the urge to laugh as they traveled up his back. "Are you trying to make me shiver?"
He almost stopped breathing when he felt the small tilt of your lips against his neck. "Maybe."
He grinned. It had been so long since you had joked with him, so long since you had smiled.
He'd almost forgotten what it was like...
"How'd you know I was here?" He leaned down, whispering into your ear, squeezing you gently.
"You always came here to run, or to unwind when you were upset..." you whispered back, leaning into his lips at your ear. Your eyes were closed and you
wet your own lips, looking for all the world like you liked his company again.
Your fingernails scraped a little down his back and his heart warmed; you remembered he liked that. It always made him laugh from your silliness. He chuckled for you, and your smile widened, looking up at him from under his chin. The sadness was still at the forefront, but he knew he'd have to take a little bit at a time.
He'd work through it with you, as long as you were willing to try with him. He'd make it all okay again.
That promise would be one that he would forever keep.
"Thanks for remembering about it. I was just going back-"
"Why?" you interrupted him, surprising him, and he stared wide-eyed at you. "Why would you come back? I've been nothing but cruel to you...for a while."
Your eyes grew misty, staring at him. "Why are you still here?"
He smiled down at you, slowly, leaving you with enough time to dodge, and kissed your forehead.
"I told you. I love you."
The smiled that crossed your face was beautiful...
"You don't even mind my face...?" You hid your face slightly. The scar was softening above your eyebrow and the black eye had faded a few weeks ago.
Daehyun couldn't help but smile-
"I've always loved your face. And... I mean love you...Not just as a friend." Daehyun's cheeks flamed red. He couldn't believe that he was telling you this in this way...
You tensed, fingers pressing into his back. He knew you didn't know what to do with the information right now. "It's all right, you know,” he said gently. “Once you are ready, you can tell me. Put it aside for now and focus on getting through this."
Your arms relaxed and you settled into him, breathing softly on his neck. "Thank you, Daehyun-ah..."
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