You pick the phone from the living room table, you check the time again for what seems like the millionth time that night. You sigh, and run your hands through your hair, it tangles at the ends, you snap it, breaking apart the tendrils of hair.
It's four in the morning, and Jongin is still out with his friends. You had refused to go out with him today, there were only so many times a week that you could force yourself to dance next to sweaty strangers and let the music give you a blistering headache.
It's then that your phone vibrates in your hand alerting you that you had received a text. It's a text from Chanyeol, and for one moment, you let relief wash over you.
We're here, coming up the stairs now. Open the door.
You sigh with either annoyance or relief, you can't tell, you jump from the sofa and open the door, just as Chanyeol and Sehun exit the elevator with a rather drunk Jongin, hanging onto them.
You sidestep into the apartment, your bare feet slides across the laminate flooring, sending a shiver down your spine. You make room, as Sehun and Chanyeol bring Jongin in, this had been the routine for the past couple of weeks. Closing the door, you wait for them to emerge from the master bedroom, suddenly it feels colder than it is, even though it's July.
"(Y/N)," a voice asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. It's Chanyeol. "Do you want us to stay?"
You close your eyes for a few seconds, and will a smile to come onto your face. "No," you wave them out of the door. "I'll be fine. Thankfully, I don't have work tomorrow so it should be good."
Chanyeol and Sehun nod, as if in agreement.
"Are you sure?" Sehun speaks this time, his black hair, fades into the darkness of the staircase. "We know he can be bit of a hand full." He tries his best to smile.
"Honestly, don't worry about it," you make eye contact with Chanyeol, and try your best to hold his gaze. "I'm pretty used to it by now." You'd meant for it to be a light comment, but both Sehun and Chanyeol cringe. Before you can take them up on their offer, you shoo them to elevator, and gave them each a quick hug.
"Call us," Chanyeol says, as he presses the elevator button. You smile and wave them off.
You walk down the cold corridor, and with each step it feels like the emotions are overwhelming you, threatening to spill with just one wrong move. You make your way into the apartment, and as you look out of the windows, you can see the streaks of orange emerging in the sky, you rest your head on the doorframe, and you let yourself break.
It feels as if hours have passed by, but the sky is still dark, with just faint orange piercing through the dark clouds. You tiptoe across the living room, and into the bedroom, you close the door behind you. Jongin's silhouette is faint in the dim light, his legs are stretched across the bed, the covers hide his his body, but even in the dark, you can see the faint blonde strands of his hair poking out. Even now, after everything, his presence still feels like home, you can't deny that the atmosphere around you changes whenever he is in your proximity.
You take off your slippers, and take long strides towards the bed, you climb in, and Jongin stirs. And just as you settle, Jongin's arms wrap around and he pulls you to him, engulfing you into him, for seconds you're scared to breathe, but after a while his familiar scent calms you. He smells like lime, and smoke, and apples, and all you can do in that moment is let yourself be.
Jongin mutters something into your hair, but you're too tired and so you let sleep claim you.
The next morning, you wake up to the smell of butter burning, and the loud strings of curses that follow from the kitchen. You can't help the smile that creeps onto your smile, pushing away the covers, you make your way into the kitchen.
"Hey, you're up," Jongin smiles, when he hears the door shut behind you.
It's jarring to think that eight hours ago, he was passed out, but now he looks blindingly beautiful, as he always does when he smiles.
He stands in the middle of the kitchen island, he's got splotches of milk down the front of his dark blue shirt, and his jeans are covered with flour stains, he comes over to you and wraps you in another tight hug, and kisses your forehead.
"What are you making?" You can't help but laugh, Jongin has never been a great cook, the first time he made his signature spaghetti, somehow the pasta was burnt and undercooked at the some time. You'd always joked his spaghetti was his signature because of its ability to be two opposite things, he'd always laughed when you said that. He's always made you feel like funniest person in the world.
You sit next to the island, watching as Jongin tries his best to fry bread and make coffee simultaneously, "I've made your favourite French toast," he says. "With Nutella," he adds.
He hands you your coffee, you smile, but you can't help the sense of dread that forms in the pit of your stomach. It's always been difficult to get Jongin to open up, especially since the accident a few months ago.
With a proud sigh, he hands you your plate of French Toast, it's one the few foods that he has mastered, he takes the seat next you, and he twists it, so that you're facing each other.
"I'm sorry," is all he says, his voice is barely above a whisper.
You look into his deep caramel eyes, it's so vast and deep, you can tell that he's genuinely sorry.
You nod, scared that your voice will betray all your feelings. He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, but just like that his questioning look is gone, and he leans in closer so that you're lips are only millimetres apart. He doesn't smell like smoke anymore, instead the scent of his aftershave hangs in the air.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you, when he kisses you like it's the universe ceases to exist. All you can think about is his hands that are on your waist, the way his fingers play on your skin, and the way the coarse ends of his hair, feel against your fingertips.
He pulls you closer to him, you can't help but stumble out of the chair, and you stand in between his legs. Somehow, Jongin's hands have ended up in your hair, he places kisses around the nape of your neck, drawing out each longing breath from you, and when you tug at the bottom at the shirt, he breaks away with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Here?" He asks, holding your gaze, it sparkles in the sunlight.
"No," you retort, and you take his hand, guiding him into the bedroom.
After, as you're washing up the plates that held the cold breakfast, you sneak a glance at Jongin, he notices you staring and smiles, and offers a small wink. He hands you the wet plate, you dry it and place it on the rack.
"Jongin," you start, he turns is head towards you. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, you don't have even have to ask, I'm always an open book for you," he jokes, nudging you on shoulder.
You take a deep breath, "If I made an appointment with a therapist would you come with me?"
You look up at him, and just like that the smile falls off his face, it's slack. You can't read him anymore.
He closes his eyes, sighing, he opens them again, "(Y/N) we've had the same conversation before, and no I don't want to go to a therapist."
He says that with so much venom, it's shocks you.
"Jongin-" you try again, holding onto his arm, but he shakes it off.
"Look, I'm fine. I just need a few more weeks to process it." He shakes his hand in the sink, letting the water droplets fall.
"It's been six months. It's okay to ask for help Jongin, it's okay to want to help. You don't have to be strong all the time, just let yourself feel. I'm with you always, I'll always be here."
"I'm fine. Let it go." He shakes his head, and starts to leave.
"Jongin, please-," this time when you hold onto his arm, he pushes you way with too much force. Your back hits the sink, and all the plates that were on the rack, lose their balance and smash against the floor.
He sees the shock on your face, and for a minute, even the fear that washes over you, without even waiting for your reaction, he leaves the kitchen. You hear the front door lock shut.
I messed it up, again.
As you turn around to pick up the broken shards up, you hear the front door turning, you feel his presence behind you, but you don't turn around. You don't want him to see your anger, and frustration.
"Go," his hands are on your shoulders, standing you up. "I'll clean it up." His voice is softer than it was before, and you don't need to see him, to know that there will be lines etched on his forehead, to know that his eyes will be lighter than they were before.
But, this time you don't face him, you don't argue. You go into the bedroom, and lock the door.
You'd met Jongin during your second year at university, he had come over to your flat for a house party, you'd never seen him before, but he seemed to be good friends with your housemates, Chanyeol and Sehun.
You were talking to your friend, Zara, when you noticed him across the room, under the blue lights his dark hair glistened, and no one could deny that his smile could light up a million rooms.
"Stop staring," Zara had said, but then she followed your gaze. "Oh it's Jongin, can't blame you there, that man is...I mean...wow."
You turned to her and grinned, "I mean he is pretty hot."
You downed another shot glass, you didn't think of anything of that meeting, but it was only later, when you were in your room, after a couple of drinks, that your life changed.
You could still hear the party going on outside, but you had excused yourself, as you had an early lecture and you'd never been that good at holding down your drinks.
Maybe you should have noticed the handle of your bedroom jingling, but you were to engrossed in your book to care.
"Oh shit," a voice cursed, it sounded as deep as the ocean, "I'm so sorry. I thought it was the bathroom."
For a few seconds you were confused, but then you noticed someone standing in the doorway, precisely Jongin standing in the doorway. He had his hands on the back of his neck, he looked as mischievous as a child.
You waved him off, "it's okay."
You half expected him to walk off, but then he noticed the book in your hand, and closed the door behind him. It was then you noticed the way he walked, the way he carried himself, he looked enigmatic and confident, yet gentle and kind. You tried to push away the blush that was forming on your cheeks.
"Oscar Wilde," he said, finally. "It's pretty heavy for a party don't you think."
"Well I mean there is nothing like reading a book when you're a bit drunk, sometimes it literally speaks to you." You said, smiling.
And he burst into a loud laughter, it filled the room, you didn't think what you had said was particularly funny, but you felt good about it anyway.
And somehow, your forgot your early morning lecture and the fact that both of you were tipsy. You and Jongin had spent the entire night talking about everything and anything. You thought it would be weird, talking to someone who you'd never met, who just seemed so otherworldly. But it wasn't, talking to Jongin felt easy, almost natural.
"Do you want to come to my dance recital?" Jongin asked, he was a bit more drunk then, he knelt on the side of your bed, looking at you as you hurried to finish your essay for your lecture.
"What?" You choked. "We don't even know each other well." You had seriously thought that this was some kind of cosmic joke.
But all he said was, "well then, get to know me."
The next morning, you were absolutely certain that last night was a dream, and your suspicions were only heightened when Jongin didn't call or text for the next few days, he didn't even acknowledge you, when passed you at university. He was everywhere. You tried your best not to be disappointed, but all your friends had caught on, that you were in a bad mood.
"Oh God, why is Jongin everywhere?" You muttered to Zara, after passing him during your way out of the library. As he walked past, you tried your best to hide your face under your books.
"It's the Baader-Meinhof phenomena," Zara replied, nudging you with her textbooks.
You turned to look at her, with a confused look on your face, she smiled like Cheshire Cat. "The what?"
"The Baader- Meinhof phenomena," she continued. Both of you made your way to the courtyard, you spotted Chanyeol and Sehun across the courtyard sitting on the bench, and offered them a small wave. "It's basically when you notice something and then you see it everywhere. You've noticed Jongin, and now he is everywhere."
"Well I wish he wasn't," you muttered, as both of sat down on the bench.
"Yeah sure," Zara winked, she pushed back her black hair, and turned to face Sehun. "So, Sehun, what's up with your friend Jongin?"
You turned to look at Zara with a horrified look on your face, "Zara, shut up."
Sehun smiled mischievously, and looked at you, "He's been a bit different since the party last week."
"Ugh," you groaned. "Stop it."
You zoned out of the conversation, and was scrolling through your phone, when a velvet like voice broke the trance. It was Jongin, and he was standing next you, his brown hair was pushed back and he was wearing black jeans with a black top, his simplicity was dangerous.
"Hey, (Y/N)." Jongin began, he sat on the empty space, next to you. "Sorry, I haven't had a chance to get back to you, I've been busy because of the recital. But here's your ticket, and there's one for Zara."
He handed you two tickets, his smile filled his face, "It's a production for the nutcracker, hope you enjoy it."
You smiled, and tried to will your blush away, "Yeah thanks Jongin, we will be there."
"We sure will," Zara joined in.
And with that he was gone, Chanyeol, Sehun and Zara just couldn't stop laughing.
"Oh shut up, you guys," you put your face in your hands.
"Jongin and (Y/N) are going on a date," Chanyeol sang.
The production was on the weekend that followed, you decided to wear a black mid-length dress with a deep v-neck, you'd let your hair down and put on some red lipstick. You knew you looked good, you felt confident.
"Dang! (Y/N) looks good," Zara singsonged on the car ride to the theatre.
You smiled, "Thanks."
The theatre was full, your took your seat next to Zara and as the curtain came down, and the lights dimmed, silence fell upon the crowd.
And when Jongin's part came on you couldn't lol at anywhere but at him, he was liquid electricity across the stage, the clothes exaggerated his muscular figure, but it didn't impact his grace at all. It was like he was flying, he commanded all your attention.
"Wow," you muttered.
"If you don't date him, I'll be happy to," Zara whispered.
After the recital, a staff had ushered you back stage, and you found Jongin standing at the corner, almost like he was waiting for you. He had changed into jeans, but he still had his stage make up on, when he noticed you, he sidestepped all the other dancers and was at your side in an instant.
"So," he said, his hands were on were wrapped around his neck, he was trying his best not to make eye contact. You'd never Jongin so shy before. "How was it?"
"It was pretty good," you smiled, you felt an odd sense of satisfaction at the fact you had such an effect on him.
Jongin nodded, he stared at your for a bit too long, his eyes you drinking in. "You look great by the way."
You took a step towards him, and you felt him take a deep breath. "Thanks, but I need to ask you one thing."
"Sure," he looked confused.
"Do you bring all the girls here?" You asked, he could see the amusement in your eyes.
"No," he said, and it was him who closed the distance between you two. "Just you."
He looked into your eyes, asking you if it was okay, you blinked.
And then, he was kissing you, it was soft and tender. He took a step back, "Except Zara, of course."
You shook your head, "Shut up."
And you kissed him.
It was a year later, both you and Jongin were walking down the canal, hand in hand, the leaves were red and there was a chill in the air. You huddled closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
"Thanks for dinner Jongin," you placed a kiss on his cheek.
"Anything for you, love," he smiled. "I would have made you something home cooked, but you know," he grinned.
"I appreciate that you didn't want to give me food poisoning, that's what love is all about," you joked.
Jongin had taken you out for a meal to celebrate your one year anniversary, he'd dressed up, he was wearing a black button down shirt with black jeans.Maybe, it's because you'd always teased him that he looked good wearing black.
"Anything for you," he played along, and placed a kiss on your forehead.
Suddenly, he stopped walking, he pulled you in him, so that you were face to face.
"There something I want to ask," he began, his face that was smiling before, had gone slack.
"Yeah," you replied, your voice wavering a little.
"Do you want to maybe move in with me," he sighed.
"What?" You almost laughed.
"I mean it's okay if you don't. I mean I just want to see you when I wake up, and I want to see you when I go to sleep. Oh God, that was so cheesy. You know-"
You cut him off, by placing a kiss on his lips. He didn't kiss back at first, but then he intensified the kiss, you could feel his hands getting lost in your hair.
You broke apart, you were almost out of breath, "I would love to, Jongin."
"Good," he smiled then, it was breathtaking, for a minute you couldn't think. Maybe, it was the fact that the sun was setting and the leaves were falling around you, you just felt so much emotion for him.
"You know, I love you," you said, and you kissed him. "I think I'll always love you."
"I love you too, (Y/N)" you could tell he was bit surprised, you were never one to wear all your emotions on your sleeve, but his eyes glistened. "I know I'll always love you, you're the only person I want to spend my life with."
"Are you proposing now," you joked.
He was serious again, "Not yet. But if I did, what would you say?"
You took his hands yours, and squeezed it, "You know what I would say."
He smiled, and you knew he did.
As you lay on your bed, you think of the moment that everything changed, all it took was one fall for Jongin to herniate his back. For his life to change forever, he was never the same without dance. You'd tried so hard to help him over the past few months, but all he did was push you away, you'd never felt so helpless, so lost. It seemed the only people he'd listen to was anyone but you.
You look around the room, the wall is full of pictures of you and Jongin. There's one with Jongin, Zara and you with Chanyeol and Sehun. It was taken on a trip to New York last year, you notice how you're all smiling, and you notice the way you Jongin looks at you, his eyes full of love.
You sigh, and you walk to the wardrobe, taking out your red suitcase, you begin to pack.
When you finally unlock the the door and make your way into the bedroom, you see Jongin lounging on the sofa, he's pretending to watch the tv, you can tell because his posture is too rigid, and his eyes are darting around the living room.
He doesn't immediately notice that you've changed out of your pyjamas, or the big red suitcase that's behind you.
When he does, he's immediately in front of you, his forehead is scrunched up, he doesn't know what's happening.
"Where are you going?" He asks, he pushes back the hair that's falling into his eyes.
You take a deep breath, it's going to be hard, but you have do it. Not for you, but for him.
"I don't think this is going to work, Jongin," you sigh.
"What's not going to work?" He's genuinely confused, he never thought this would happen.
You don't say anything, you can't, you're too scared that you'll cry. He looks at you, and you can tell the moment he realises what you're talking about, because he's scrambling towards you, his hands are shaking as he pulls you closer to him.
"Jongin please," you whisper, taking a step back
"No (Y/N), I told you I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," he stammers, his eyes are welling up, and you can feel your welling up too.
"Jongin, it's not just about that," you say, trying your best to hold his gaze, and when you do tears fall down. "I can't watch you destroy yourself like this, and as I long as I'm here I'll never be able to help you. I'll just make it difficult for you."
"Th-that's not true," he replies, but his voice shakes.
"Jongin, I can't help you the way you need me to right now," you say, and you've noticed that you've taken a few steps back. "But I'm only a phone call away, anything you need I'm here. But I just can't. I don't want you to end up hating me, and I don't don't want to end up hating you."
Jongin nods then, like he finally understands.
He smiles a little then, his face is wistful, "I'll always love you, you know that, right?"
"I do," you say. "Me too, Jongin."
The moonlight filters into the room, it reflects on Jongin, but he doesn't shine like he always does, instead he looks dull. His eyes are sunken, his hands are shaking.
"I'll get help," he finally says. "And when I'm ready, I'll call you."
You smile through the tears, "that's all I've ever wanted Jongin."
And you hug him, his hands wrap around you, he pulls you closer and closer until it feels like he's etching you into his soul. You put your hands on his shoulders, he's always been home to you, his back has always felt safe and secure. You feel guilty, and you begin to think maybe you should stay, but you realise that much your relationship has changed, how much both of you have, both of you need time and space to grow. But, it's Jongin who breaks away from you first, he places a kiss on your forehead, and steps away.
You wipe away the tears, "I've already called Chanyeol and Sehun, they'll be here soon."
He nods.
With that, you take your suitcase, and walk towards the door. You don't look back. You can't.
It's two years later when you see Jongin again, at Chanyeol and Zara's wedding, after you two had broken up, you'd spent a couple of weeks at Zara's house and then moved away to purse a graduate degree in criminology.
Zara had told you how Chanyeol and Sehun showed Jongin some tough love, and had gotten him to enter rehab. And over the years, he'd only texted you multiple times: to wish you happy birthday, to thank you for supporting him and let you know that he'd managed to get a publishing contract.
But, he never called and he never asked to see you, so you were quite nervous to see him at Zara's wedding, but they'd assured you that Jongin didn't hate you, could never hate you, instead he'd always said that it was because of you that his life had changed .
Through the haze of wedding preparations you don't properly see him until the after party, when you see him, he's at the dance floor dancing with Zara and twirling her around, you smile. He's still exactly as you remember him, yet so much has changed, he's still enigmatic as ever, his smile could still light up a thousand rooms, but his hair is black and his shoulders seem broader and the way his black suits clings to him, you can tell he's been working out, a lot more.
You're about to turn around and walk away, scared that he might be not be ready to see you, when he catches you staring at him. You thought he'd hesitate when he sees you, but he doesn't, instead he smiles the biggest smile you've ever seen. It fills his face, he says something to Zara and excuses himself, she nods and when she notices him walking towards you, she gives you a wink.
You can't help but walk towards him, it feels like this moment is taking up all oxygen, you meet at the corner of the hall, and when he sees under the fairy lights, his hand instinctively goes to the back of his neck.
"Hey," he says, surprising you by wrapping you in a hug.
You return the hug, "Hey, yourself."
You break apart. "You look great by the way." Both of you say, at the same time.
You laugh, "Thanks."
You push your hair behind you ears, and he shifts.
"Congratulations, on the new book!" You smile.
"Thank you," he says. "But, can I ask you something?"
You hesitate, "Sure"
"Can I dance with you?" He blushes.
"Of course, Jongin."
And he takes your hand, like he's been holding it all along, and guides you to the middle of the dance floor. He wraps his hand around your waist, swaying with you to the slow beat of the the music, you rest your head on his shoulders. He takes your hand, and spins you around the dance floor, you can't help but laugh, and he smiles too.
You land into his chest, and you wrap your hands around his neck. He holds your gaze, and you're lost in his eyes that you know so well.
You can feel the distance between you two get smaller, he holds your gaze as if asking for permission and when you don't move, Jongin kisses you. It's just like the first time he kissed you, except there's the weight of all the kisses you missed out on, his lips feel so familiar, and as if by instinct you two move in sync.
You break apart, "It's my turn to ask you something."
"Of course," he says, breathless.
"Do you twirl and kiss all the girls on the dance floor?" You ask, and you realise that he still smells and feels the same.
"No," he laughs, in between kissing you. "Except Zara of course."
"Shut up," you say, resting your head on his chest.