[ prompt ]
gave up on those, no one is giving me anything lmao.
[ characters ]
tae/v , y/n
[ note ]
minjimx
• • •
i was a lost boy, known for his undeniable heartbroken personality. everyone looked at me as a nuisance and disregarded my worth as a human being. the respect, humanity and hope was all lost, like myself.
and i wished those fortunate days would come back, even if it was only to bid me a bittersweet goodbye.
it was the same story with that girl who left so suddenly without another heart–wrenching word, and that was the cause of my drastic change. except, a part of me didn’t want her to come back, especially if she had an agenda to leave again.
i felt hopeless.
• • •
i felt a little hopeful.
i showed up to her house on the last day of the year, even though i knew she’d still be missing. but i secretly wished she was, because her presence was all i needed to restore old myself.
in a few hours, it would be a new year— a new year for opportunities, for more dreams to come true, and so much more. but i had nothing planned.
the snow fell from the sky, reminding me of how fast i had fell for y/n when we met. she was impossible not to like— and me being her closest friend, catching feelings for her were inevitable.
i reached the front step to the place she called home and gently knocked on the door, barely having any energy to speak. i had a blank expression on my face, but i smiled at the person who opened the door.
“oh, taehyung–ah,” her mother greeted with an apologetic, yet soft and warm smile. she pitied me, i knew. i mean, who wouldn’t? the past months after she left, i had been visiting non–stop, hoping that maybe a miracle had shined overnight and she’d suddenly be back.
but i stopped one day.
looking back at today, i wished i would’ve stuck to giving up.
“we all thought you gave up. . . i’m glad you didn’t,”
i only nodded with a shy smile. her mother and father welcomed me inside their humbleness of a home, and it shot a warm feeling through me. they still treated me like their family, even if she wasn’t here anymore. they let me take a seat.
“you came at the right time.” her father said, his eyes hung low.
“happy new year?” i almost questioned. they shook their heads while giving out hesitant laughter.
“no. . . my dear, we have news for you.”
“but it isn’t exactly good news. . .”
my heart sunk. part of me wanted her to jump out and give me one of her big bear hugs, while she whispered, ‘i’m back, and i’m never leaving again.’ and then i’d smile.
