Unrequited || Jimin

2.5 | 노을

SUNSET

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Do you know what I think love is?

I think it's a bicycle. I think you were my bicycle.

I think I had to love you, that everything had to happen the way it did, for me to learn how to move past love itself.

Love is a bicycle.

You scrape knees and cry wolf, you fall on sidewalks, you bruise all over trying it the first time around. It is completely new, and entirely bizarre, and when your fingers grip around handlebars they shake, at first.

But then you slowly learn, and when you feel wind in your hair and streets flying by like theatre sceneries, you understand now why people risk getting hurt all their lives for this.

So I think I loved you truly. I think I loved you ocean-deep and valleys over, loved you as long as I could. I think I've loved to my best ability.

Here's what they don't tell you about it: you can love as hard as you want, but it is not meant to be halfway.

I can't love you into loving me.

Jeongguk told me this. He was summer rain soft, holding my hand still even as we'd crossed the road. I think he knew how much I needed to hold onto something, someone.

We walked to the park where I first saw you with her. Sat down in the same bench, but this time I am with someone else, and the irony almost made me laugh.

"Byul." Jeongguk's voice is honey, but slower, softer. He inched slightly closer to me, gaze hesitant. "How long?"

I blinked, looking up at him. "How long what?

"How long have you loved him?"

The stars, the bright smile, the wish I made on my eighteenth birthday. I realized I loved you when it rained and you held me close, fast asleep. I realized I began loving you since before that, from the moment you protected me at the playground. Maybe I have never not been.

"I don't know," I answered as truthfully as I can, avoiding Jeongguk's eyes. Everything felt wispy, like the clouds themselves could fade away at a touch. You made me feel weak. "A long time. Since I was young, I guess."

"I'm sorry," Jeongguk whispers, like secrets in cupped palms. "That must really hurt."

I didn't say anything, then. The hurt was too much, full-bellied, razor-sharp in my veins. It wasn't like I'd expected you to fall in love with me, too. I knew how quickly this had all happened, but —

you were beautiful, too

— hope isn't always easy.

"I just don't know how to make him see," I blurted out when the quiet between Jeongguk and I had grown a bit too stretched. "I don't...I don't know."

I looked up at Jeongguk, and in his eyes there was warmth, and understanding, and something else. Something sweet, something a little fond as he stared back, his lips pulling up to a sad smile.

"You can't love him into loving you, Byul," he said, picking his words carefully so he talks slower. "And sometimes..."

I watched him when his words paused. His gaze flitting up and down, cheeks suddenly dusted a little pink. Without knowing why, I felt my own face warm.

Jeongguk peeked up at me, not smiling anymore. "Sometimes he isn't all you need to see. Sometimes there are already those who are looking."

I blushed, and he looked away quick, but both of us knew. It was small, but it was there.

A question. Another boy, for another season.

We sat for a while after that before I excused myself home, thanking Jeongguk. He offered to walk me home, but this I turned down. I needed time, needed to gather my thoughts. He watched me as I go, concern so apparent it pierced right through me.

Here's the thing.

Blossoms, pink and gentle, travelling down Seoul's spine. They speak of change. They speak of newer seasons to come, moon shifting into day, of time passing by through tunnels. They speak of you, speak of us.

You were a great part of my youth. Maybe a lot of my love is rooted to familiarity. Maybe love can be of different kinds, and maybe they can always begin again with someone else.

But here is another thing:

You were on my doorstep.

Eyes wide when you saw me, lips parting to speak my name. You looked like you'd waited.

"Byul-ah," and you stood up, and there was a storm in your eyes where stars used to dance.

"What- what are you doing here?"

For a while all you did was gaze. Your eyebrows scrunched up together, your eyes trailing my cheeks, my temples, all the way to my lips. I warmed under your stare, but you didn't look away. My heart thudded with every second.

You were gazing at me like you were searching for something. I wish I knew what you wanted so I could give it to you.

But I didn't, and at last you seemed to catch your breath, and looked down.

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

I can't love you into loving me. I know that now. It would be unfair to you, too.

So I looked at you in the quiet and said, soft, "thank you."

And then I left you waiting, under a sky with no more stars.

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A/N: another stroke of impulsive creativity and here i am, posting v randomly!! i had fun writing this, and i have so much metaphors going on in this chapter my metaphors are starting to be metaphors. :')

but i hope you liked it, though - let me know what you think! any feedback is very appreciated. 💛