𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 : 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

heather + noren

Love is a hard thing to describe, it's an emotion that transcends language and can only be felt to understand and grasp.

It's physically intangible, unlike cartoon drawings of hearts and pink sunsets. Love is beyond crushing or infatuation, real love is as pure as one can get. A mother's love is unquestionably the sweetest feeling one could experience, and those who sadly went through life without that attachment skipped that step and moved on to puppy crushes and heart shaped suckers.

Love isn't an emotion we feel easily, even those who wear their hearts on their sleeves. Our hearts have protective barriers, like microscopic knights in shining armor that guard the prince or princess from all harm.

We develop crushes, we admire people, we adore them. But love takes time, and when that love isn't requited it breaks out hearts.

It hurts because even with those guards who form fences around our hearts, they're weak to the feeling of security and hope.

Renjun let his guard down, years of hopeless pinning and hope gave him a shattered defense and a sharp tug in his chest.
It's a sharp and painful tug that reminds him of the cold December winds. They bit at his skin and drew blood to surface to blush in ugly patches.

He liked the winter season, it was cold and clean. It meant frozen days spent inside under warm blankets with his sketch book, drawing the scene out of his window.

December meant sitting around a campfire with his friends and toasting marshmallows, it meant hearing Donghyuck and Mark sing songs and it meant Jisung dropping chocolate squares and Chenle screaming in dismay. It meant Jaemin's laughs, and above all else it meant Jeno giving Renjun whatever jacket he'd worn that day.

That was the best part of winter, the warm and comforting smell of cologne and laundry detergent.

Renjun never thought of the word love until he realized one night, a night like those winter nights under the stars, that Jeno's laugh made his heart flutter.

The color of his eyes became his favorite color, his smile brightened his day, his voice sent shivers down his spine, and his own name sounded the best when falling from his lips.

Love was a hard word to describe, but Renjun was in love.

Maybe that's why it hurt everytime Jeno would look away when Renjun wanted to look into his eyes more. The times that their hands would accidentally touch only to be pulled away too quickly, the instances when hugs were not tight enough.

Jeno didn't love Renjun, and even though that hurt, Renjun could deal with it.

Except, it's not just a case of simple unrequited love. It's not just oblivious bestfriend verses love sick kid, instead it's a battle of hope and crushing pain.

Renjun's heart is weak, he can't say no nor can he push the other way. Two kisses had been shared between them, both in the dead of night and both brought tears to his eyes because he knew the outcome.

Jeno would pull away, an odd look on his face, and say he wasn't ready for a relationship. That's fine, Renjun could wait and see. But it wasn't fine, and it wasn't true.

He saw, saw with stinging eyes and a pinch in his chest. Renjun never missed the long glances his bestfriend sent towards Jaemin.

Maybe that was the worst part for him, seeing the type of person Jeno preferred and immediately hating everything about himself.

Jaemin, bless his soul, was one of the most perfect guys Renjun had known. Tall, handsome, kind, and bubbly. He was everything that Renjun was not and never would be.

It hurt even more to see the glances Jaemin sent right back at Jeno.

Renjun loved Jaemin, he was a close friend just like Donghyuck and Chenle and the others. He hated ever thinking badly of him, because Jaemin was just a genuinely good person. But even so, Renjun could never stop the hateful thoughts he had.

His jealousy and pain ignored that friendship and spit on that title. In those moments Renjun wanted him gone, just so that he could have a chance, a sliver of hope again that one day Jeno would have those feelings towards himself instead.

Jeno stopped giving Renjun his jackets in winter, now they rested on Jaemin's shoulders.

He liked his life, but sometimes he wished he was Jaemin instead.

Looking over the campfire, the embers flying away in the breeze like tiny fairies dancing, where they sit across from him sends another sharp pinch through his chest.

Renjun pulls his gaze down, into the bright flames that flick and twist around each other like lovers. He feels his eyes sting, water up and attempt to roll over his waterline.

He blinks them away, it's just a polyester sweater.

Even if that it meant that he'd never be chosen.