Not Your Lover (2PARK✔️)

Alternate Ending: Living

for all the lonely hearts. woojin has just fainted on the street... where will he awaken this time around?

.

I wake up slowly, fatigue pressing against me just as strong as the weight against my side. It's an uncomfortable yet familiar weight, one I've slept beside like this countless times. Even in this cushioned bed that surely isn't mine, I feel at peace with the scent of nothing but him beside me.

"I hate you," he mumbles quietly, though I'm not sure if he realizes I've woken up yet. "I hate you so much sometimes, but no matter what I say I still love you more than anything in the world."

I stir at that, peeling one eye open to peek over at him carefully. Black hair is pushed back from his face, and his eyes are red from what I assume are unshed tears. "What are you doing?" I ask quietly, trying to move into a more comfortable position. I stop when I realize he's holding my hand to his chest, leaning against my shoulder like a pillow.

"I can't write in a journal, because if that ever gets out, I'll be done for. So I'm just telling you all my feelings instead." He doesn't meet my eyes, staring hard at his hands that cradle my own. "It's not helping much, because I really am a mess."

He stops, choking on his words as his eyes squeeze shut in pain. A few tears escape, and I fight my body's painful exhaustion to reach out with my free hand. Stroking a finger across his cheeks, I dry what I hope will be a quick cry, his pain something that will only grow until it hurts me as well.

I feel my eyes drift to the room behind him, surprised to see the familiar setup of his and Jinyoung's bedroom. "Why am I here?" I ask quietly, touching my hand to Jihoon's chin to try and force our gazes to meet. I want so badly to see that familiar stare behind his dark eyes. The one he saves only for me, an expression that took me so long to recognize as mine.

"Daehwi called me like an idiot," he mutters, his eyes still shut to avoid my own. His voice sounds thicker than usual, more tears obviously ready to pour out when called. "I told him to take you to a hospital, and then ten minutes later he's calling again from a taxi outside, saying he can't carry you upstairs by himself."

I smile at the thought of the scrawny boy dragging me anywhere by himself, his threats of calling an ambulance obviously empty this morning. "What time is it?" I ask now, not seeing a clock anywhere.

Jihoon shrugs against me, finally opening his eyes to meet mine. "We've been like this for a long time," he admits quietly. "I left to eat lunch at some point, if that gives you an idea."

My stomach rolls at the thought of food, though I'm sure I'm genuinely starved. My hand moves up to play with a few strands of Jihoon's hair that fall across his forehead, forgetting that anything wrong has happened and just living for the moment. But just like every spare moment we give ourselves, one of us slips through and darkens it.

"Should we talk about last night?" The hands that hold my one tighten almost imperceptibly, clearly nervous to discuss what's gone wrong and what may never be fixed. Though he's asked the question, he clearly doesn't want to discuss anything.

"I think we both said everything we had to say," I reply slowly. I don't want to set him off, or make him feel cornered into having another fight. It's painfully difficult with last night hanging above our heads like a plague. "But if you think we should talk it over again, alright."

He bites at his bottom lip, worrying at the skin that's already chapped. I was hoping he'd gotten past that, a nervous habit that hurts to watch, but he seems to be at it once again. "I'm sorry," he says slowly, as if testing out the words. His eyes drop from mine, nervous to his wit's end over our current standing. "I didn't mean all that I said-"