if only you knew

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 26

seungkwan was trying to understand why wonwoo and mingyu were acting the way they were. he would be lying if he said he hadn't spent many sleepless nights trying to connect the dots, but he kept coming up blank. there was always something missing.

how could those two, who were so into each other and so happy, have ended up this way?

seungkwan knew it was possible. some people just weren't supposed to be together. but seungkwan didn't want to accept that. there had to be something else, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. and it certainly didn't help that neither of the older boys were willing to give up that information – not that seungkwan ever outwardly asked, he was a coward.

so whenever the three of them hung out after seungkwan's outburst the other day, the youngest watched the two of them carefully. and it hurt him deeply, not only to see his two favorite people not get along but to see them force their friendship for the sake of protecting seungkwan's feelings. he knew they were doing it for him, and it hurt that they felt that they had to do that for him when they should have been doing it for each other.

it also hurt that he had to watch them so much. he wished for the days when the three of them were friends and their stupid feelings weren't involved. at least then, they ignored it and got along well.

a part of seungkwan wished that summer never happened.

and it was such a shame. seungkwan loved the summertime. he loved seeing the kids running around the beach or listening to the cicadas at night. he loved eating ice cream with his friends and jumping into joshua's pool whenever him or his other friends couldn't be bothered to go to the beach. he loved running early in the morning, when the air was crisp, and the humidity hadn't struck yet.

seungkwan loved the summertime. that was why he thought it would have been a good idea to confess to wonwoo at the beginning of the summer. he always associated the season with some of his best memories. he wanted his confession to wonwoo to be another good memory he could look back on when he thought of summertime.

but the confession never happened. and now it was september. the summer was basically over, and seungkwan spent the entire time thinking of his best friends in situations he felt ashamed to think of.

he wished he could pretend the summer never happened. maybe he could just wake up the following morning and pretend wonwoo and mingyu never dated. he could pretend he never planned to confess to wonwoo. he could pretend that he never gained feelings for mingyu, selfishly, after seeing him with wonwoo. he could pretend none of it ever happened.

but he knew he couldn't. not when he was lying down in his living room, listening to his best friends exchange passive-aggressive words at each other as they made seungkwan dinner.

seungkwan had long lost his appetite after hearing the duo address each other so coldly for the past hour, but he wouldn't tell them that. he knew what would happen: they would stop arguing and apologize and say they would work on their issues. and then it would start over the next day. like a stupid game of ping pong.

and seungkwan was tired. he was so, so tired. he wanted to sit the two of them down and tell them to stop. it tore him apart to see the two of them – the three of them, really – acting this way with each other. but he has said what he needed to say.

wonwoo and mingyu knew how seungkwan felt, and they were willfully ignoring him. it pissed seungkwan off more than anything, and he would rather act angry in front of them than break down in front of them. he would save that for when they left him alone at night.

seungkwan wondered why the two of them bothered to hang out with him if they couldn't even be in the same room with each other without arguing. what confused him even more was when he ran to his groupchat with soonyoung and chan to complain about mingyu and wonwoo's incessant arguing, only for his two friends to say that they never argued around the rest of them.