black cloud ¦ lee haechan

ch ; 64

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒ 64 ༒ ˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
Say Don't Go

Kory stood on the windswept terrace, the salty breeze whipping her hair into a frenzy. The fiery orb of the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking tapestry of orange, pink, and purple. Yet, the beauty before her did little to soothe the turmoil churning within.

Tomorrow, she'd be leaving this life behind. A pang of sadness tugged at her heart – a goodbye to the unexpected friendships forged in the most unusual of circumstances.

The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore served as a melancholic soundtrack to her thoughts. Inhaling deeply, she let the salty air fill her lungs, a temporary balm to the restless storm within.

Lost in her thoughts, Kory didn't notice the other presence approaching until he was standing beside her, his presence a comforting presence at her side.

His sudden closeness sent a jolt through her. He was a paradox – a comfort and a disquiet, a melody both familiar and jarring.

Stealing a glance, she took in his silhouette, bathed in the twilight's soft glow. The fading light accentuated the planes of his face, casting playful shadows that danced across his melanin skin, that looked soft unerneath the setting sun.

Her heartbeat quickened, her mind racing with the thoughts of him.

But the moment, fleeting and fragile, shattered as quickly as it formed, leaving behind a desolate landscape of longing and uncertainty. Kory tore her gaze away, a million questions swirling in her head, doubts gnawing at her resolve.

"What's on your mind?" his voice, soft and gentle, breaking the silence that hung between them.

Kory's gaze remained on the horizon, her expression unreadable. "A lot of things," she replied cryptically, the tremor in her voice betraying her.

He studied her intently, the fading light highlighting the worry etched on her face. He sensed the storm brewing beneath the surface, the weight of unspoken emotions threatening to burst forth.

"What things?" he pressed gently, his voice laced with concern.

Kory hesitated, her gaze fixated on the distant. "Just... things," she murmured evasively, her words barely audible over the sound of the waves.

He recognized the wall she'd built, a barrier against vulnerability. He wouldn't push her. Instead, he stood beside her, a silent pillar of support.

Steeling her nerves, Kory decided to take a leap of faith. The frustration that had been simmering for far too long threatened to boil over.

"Hayez, why can't things be simpler between us?" she blurted out, her voice laced with frustration.

Hayez turned to face her, his expression a reflection of her own pain. "I know, believe me, I do," he replied, his voice strained. "But it's not that simple."

The tension in the air grew thick, a tangible entity threatening to suffocate them. Kory's frustration reached a boiling point.

"Why can't you just be honest with me?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

Hayez's jaw clenched, his own frustration mirroring hers. "Because it's not that simple!" he snapped, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Half the time, I don't even understand my own feelings!"

Kory's eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "So, what, you expect me to just wait around until you figure it out?" she retorted, her voice trembling with emotion.

Hayez shook his head vehemently. "No, that's not what I—" He reached out to touch her arm, but she flinched away, her expression hardening.

"No, Hayez," she said firmly, her voice laced with newfound resolve. "I'm done with this dance. I can't pretend everything's okay when it clearly isn't. I need the truth from you, Hayez. I need to know how you really feel."

"I care about you, okay?" he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. "But I just... I can't..." His voice trailed off, the truth a bitter pill he couldn't swallow.

Kory's eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, her voice breaking. "You can't what, Hayez? Tell me the truth? Tell me how you really feel?" She shook her head, her anger and frustration bubbling to the surface.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't keep waiting for you to open up to me, to tell me what's in your heart."

Hayez's shoulders slumped, the weight of their unresolved emotions pressing down on him like a physical burden. "I know," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "But I just... I don't know how to fix this."

Kory's eyes brimmed with tears, her heart aching with longing and disappointment. "Then maybe we can't," she choked out, her voice breaking as she turned away.

Hayez lunged forward, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm. "Wait—" he pleaded, the desperation in his voice a stark contrast to his usual stoicism.

But it was too late.

With a choked sob, she turned away and fled back to the confines of her room, the tears streaming down her face as the weight of their unspoken emotions threatened to consume her. It pained her to leave this way.

-

Hayez stood alone on the terrace, the vibrant colors of the sunset now a fading memory, replaced by the inky blackness of night. The rhythmic crash of the waves mocked him, a constant reminder of the tide of emotions that had swept Kory away. The echoes of their argument reverberated in the stillness, each word a painful reminder of his own tangled mess of feelings.

He closed his eyes, the sting of unshed tears burning behind his eyelids. Regret gnawed at him, a bitter aftertaste of what could have been. He cared about Kory, deeply, but fear – a fear of vulnerability – had kept him from expressing it.

And now, she was gone. Leaving him with a heart full of what-ifs and a future shrouded in uncertainty. The weight of his silence, heavy and suffocating, threatened to consume him.

Heaving a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, Hayez turned and walked back inside, the once vibrant night air now feeling cold and desolate. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that this silence might have just cost him everything.

-

a/n: I'm sorry T_T

Continued.