[it's strange how a few simple words can completely change a situation. it's enough to force him to sit upright in a state of stunned silence.
hearing that—hearing those words is something that can get nam soon to actually react, rather than sit there with a false sense of complacency. there's a feeling in his chest—a burn, the thumping of his heart—both of which call to attention just what heung soo says and exactly what it has to imply.
"stop avoiding me." 'stop sleeping. stop going back to what you were these last three years. stop pretending you're okay, stop telling yourself it's okay even when you're not.'
"i'm not going anywhere either." the words that say it all. nam soon knows right off the bat that this means heung soo doesn't want to give up on things. it means that he's not going to be left alone, or that whatever transpired isn't going to put their friendship to the screeching halt it came to three years ago.
it's a relief. it's the sort of relief that takes all the air from his lungs. it's the sort of relief that makes a few tears spring to his eyes. heung soo wouldn't leave him alone. even after everything that happened, even when he can't understand what he's feeling and what it all means, he wouldn't be alone again. there's still so much to address, and nam soon knows that... but all he can do right now is look at heung soo with a strange, relieved sense of disbelief.
heung soo's right, that he can't keep avoiding it, anyhow. it's a step backwards, everything he wouldn't let himself be when he initially saw the opportunity to at least try to repent for all his past mistakes. he'd tried to do everything for heung soo, and then in a moment, he was ready to back away from it all just because the sheer fear of losing him again was so consuming and horrifying that he didn't know what to do with. that's a scary feeling—his best friend has so much power of him unintentionally, and that fear of loss is so great that it's crippling.
if his chest hurt from the ease of knowing heung soo wouldn't leave, then the feeling he'd had at the thought of it all coming to an end was crushing, even crippling.
that means something, doesn't it? it means a lot of things, things nam soon wants to say he doesn't really understand, but somewhere within it all is that knowing. heung soo is the most important to him. that's how it's been since they were kids, and it never once changed. there was never anybody who trumped that importance, and having lost it once, there was nothing more painful than the notion of losing it again.]
...Heung Soo-yah. [it's all he says as those formed tears spill over. he doesn't choke out any sobs, and his voice only barely wavers, but it probably says all it needs to. all of the fears and insecurities he's been bottling for these days is spilling out with the silent relief that he wasn't going to lose his best friend.
even if he doesn't know what comes next, or what heung soo feels about happened... it's the first step. he can't give up here and now, not after everything else, even if it's terrifying.]
no subject
hearing that—hearing those words is something that can get nam soon to actually react, rather than sit there with a false sense of complacency. there's a feeling in his chest—a burn, the thumping of his heart—both of which call to attention just what heung soo says and exactly what it has to imply.
"stop avoiding me." 'stop sleeping. stop going back to what you were these last three years. stop pretending you're okay, stop telling yourself it's okay even when you're not.'
"i'm not going anywhere either." the words that say it all. nam soon knows right off the bat that this means heung soo doesn't want to give up on things. it means that he's not going to be left alone, or that whatever transpired isn't going to put their friendship to the screeching halt it came to three years ago.
it's a relief. it's the sort of relief that takes all the air from his lungs. it's the sort of relief that makes a few tears spring to his eyes. heung soo wouldn't leave him alone. even after everything that happened, even when he can't understand what he's feeling and what it all means, he wouldn't be alone again. there's still so much to address, and nam soon knows that... but all he can do right now is look at heung soo with a strange, relieved sense of disbelief.
heung soo's right, that he can't keep avoiding it, anyhow. it's a step backwards, everything he wouldn't let himself be when he initially saw the opportunity to at least try to repent for all his past mistakes. he'd tried to do everything for heung soo, and then in a moment, he was ready to back away from it all just because the sheer fear of losing him again was so consuming and horrifying that he didn't know what to do with. that's a scary feeling—his best friend has so much power of him unintentionally, and that fear of loss is so great that it's crippling.
if his chest hurt from the ease of knowing heung soo wouldn't leave, then the feeling he'd had at the thought of it all coming to an end was crushing, even crippling.
that means something, doesn't it? it means a lot of things, things nam soon wants to say he doesn't really understand, but somewhere within it all is that knowing. heung soo is the most important to him. that's how it's been since they were kids, and it never once changed. there was never anybody who trumped that importance, and having lost it once, there was nothing more painful than the notion of losing it again.]
...Heung Soo-yah. [it's all he says as those formed tears spill over. he doesn't choke out any sobs, and his voice only barely wavers, but it probably says all it needs to. all of the fears and insecurities he's been bottling for these days is spilling out with the silent relief that he wasn't going to lose his best friend.
even if he doesn't know what comes next, or what heung soo feels about happened... it's the first step. he can't give up here and now, not after everything else, even if it's terrifying.]