chapter two

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to say he was in love with seokjin was an understatement. writing countless of poems and proses about and for him, and dedicating a few stories to him was more than being just in love with him.

he wrote when he felt sad. he wrote when he felt angry. he wrote when he felt the butterflies. and he wrote when he doesn't have much to say.

but who was he truly in love with? with seokjin or with writing?

one thing he never really loved was his life.
what is there to love when all he experienced was rejection and the harshness of reality?
he loved writing as much as he hated living.

and even that, seokjin still didn't know. he never really told him much either aside from the typical rants of a graduating student in college like mental breakdowns, stress, wanting to die, and heaps of activities and assignments.

he genuinely wants to die.

namjoon wondered if his writing was the curse. he wondered if he was just too articulate in writing that he could write the despairs of his life and still make it sound so poetic and calming.

it would be rhyming but messy, dark and bloody, exhausting and fleeting, long and abrupt.

if it really was possible, namjoon wondered how it would look like. and maybe how long will it take him to finish.

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