𝗢𝗹𝗱 𝗙𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀

Selfish.

Before I could stop myself, the corners of my eyes filled with indefinable sentiments. And the emotions that I thought were meaningless were now streaming down my face in a messy trail.

"I'm so sorry, Ames," he mumbled audibly, his voice thick with remorse. "But I had to."

I try to blink back my tears, but they cascaded like glacial water streams. "It's okay. I understand."

But I don't.

I don't understand why he had to leave me when all he gave me was promises for a endless, colourful future only to shatter them with a sad smile.

Yoongi stared, but made no attempt to hold me or wipe my tears, like he would in the past. There was a pain, a sadness flashing through his eyes, but all he did was stand there, watching me become vulnerable as the glass door shut before us, creating the transparent wall of vulnerability.

He gave me one last sad smile and turned on his heels, dragging his trolley as he did not dare to look back.

I started to feel cold, unsure whether it was because of the climate or because it was the barren futility of our relationship; I don't know what to say or do anymore. I wanted to chase him, but it were as if the imaginary large stones on top of my shoes were restraining me from going after him.

Yoongi was selfish - that's all I could blame it on him, for now. Never once did he even think of how would I feel without him. But then again, I was being the selfish one by trying to keep him all to myself, which wasn't possible. Yoongi's career is far more important than I could ever be. And maybe, just maybe, he'll find someone better, someone who is not me, to spend his time with in New Jersey.

It's crazy; no matter how much I tried to keep the momentum in our relationship steady, it was as if we were growing apart. The more I tried holding him, the more he slipped.

The break-up was inevitable. But it was not something that I hoped will happen soon.

The bed grew cold.

The verbal conversations became quarrels.

The cuddles turned into night's of staying apart.

The touches stopped.

The distance grew, and the air started feeling thick at some point. It was constraining, and it seemed he was struggling to get out of the toxicity that we created.

But I was desperate to not let him go.

The more I watched his receding white figure, the more I could feel the pain intensifying inside me.

I could still vividly see myself rubbing his back and consoling him about our terrifying yet beautiful days that were yet to come, while the next moment we would be caught up throwing harsh words at each other. The spark that we initially felt at the beginning of our relationship was dying like a wilted, dehydrated sunflower.

"Why?" I choke back my sob. "Just why did you have to leave me?"

And to conclude, we thought it would be in our best interest to break the ties and go in the paths that we think is perfect for ourselves. He had faith in continuing his father's legacy; and I couldn't possibly detach him from that one thing he truly seeks, can I?

But being the selfish me that I am, I am not ready to let him go. I tried to stop him, but who was he to stopped? He was like a magnificent eagle, moving through the clouds, soaring up against the the sky and creating a halo of its own from the rays of sun.

Eventually we found ourselves at the airport, separated by the transparent wall as I watch his fading figure vanish behind the large automatic gates. My heart grew heavy, as I resigned myself on the cold pavement. The harsh November air tickled my nape, sending jolts of emotions through my body.

The voices started shutting down very slowly like a rustic automaton, and the world was isolated again, as I cried and cried, pouring the regretting emotions on the pathway, hoping maybe he would turn back and return to me, helping me to my feet and taking a taxi home.

But I was unfortunate enough to hope that he would come.

The silence in my cries grew, so did the black spots in my vision until they turned completely into the colour of the night sky.

"Yoongi," was the last thing I heard slipping out of my mouth before I succumbed to the darkness.

******************

AN: Originally, a draft for SEESAW but this did not cope up well with the storyline, so I posted it separately. Only change is that here, Yoongi is not a musician.

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