[it brings him a little bit of relief to see heung soo picking up the chopsticks and eating. even if nam soon is probably the one who needed it more—which is why he alternates pretty well between the ramen and the kimchi—his appetite is starting to come back in full swing now that the stress from everything that's happened is starting to subside.
in truth, there was never much he needed to worry about. at least, not to the extent he did. of course heung soo being separated from his body is a terrifying notion, just like losing his hearing completely for days way... but even then, they'd have found some way to communicate, right? what mattered is that despite everything that happened, they hadn't really abandoned each other.
then again, with what heung soo brings up—well, it brings back a lot of memories. some good, but mostly bad. it causes nam soon to pause with chopsticks in hand; the noodles just sitting between them, halfway from the bowl to his mouth. it takes a bit, but he has something to say to that.]
It's a lot like that day. [in more ways that he cares to remember. that day is still one of the worst in his life, and the only reason it's probably not the top worst is because heung soo saved him from himself a bit back then. but in the end, he was a mess and the only thing that calmed him down was heung soo's assurance. sure, they've grown up and the methods for making that assurance have changed in ways he could have never expected, but... still, they were there.]
I didn't change at all. [isn't that... a bad thing, in some way? sure, he'd been tsunami; he'd snapped because there was too much in life that he couldn't handle. he'd snapped and threw away so much of himself because it was easier, it was more fun, it was dangerous and exciting and the best way to not deal with every other issue.
but all it took was one step too far for nam soon to regain the perspective he'd lost in their middle school years. maybe he'd really just been a shell of himself from the moment his mother died, and heung soo had been the only thread that held the cloth together. he doesn't really know. thinking about that—well, it gives him a strange pang in his chest, one that leads him to letting the noodles slip out of chopstick's grip and back into the bowl.]
I never did anything for you, either. Not then. Not now. [he broke heung soo's leg and ran. he ran from every responsibility. he'd made a mess and didn't even bother to clean it up. he couldn't face his mistakes and shut down. and even this week, instead of chasing after heung soo's body, what did he do? he sat in the corner of the room, on the floor and cried how he did those other times. at the funeral, after breaking heung soo's leg.
he was useless. he hasn't changed, so it's almost laughable that heung soo had been so mad about those supposed changes back then. he was good at hiding it, maybe. good at it in that he'd learned how to close himself off to any feeling openly, and others just took it upon themselves to take that as friendship of some sort.
nam soon is completely useless without heung soo, and this is the first time he's really realizing it. he's always functioned before, but he chalked it up as a want more than anything else. he wanted to see heung soo again. he wanted to apologize. he wanted to reconcile. he wanted heung soo to get his payback. now... now he sees though that it isn't a want, but a need it's a strange sort of dependence to lean on someone else that way. and it's kind of scary. there's a level of self-loathing that nam soon definitely hasn't, and probably will never overcome for what happened before.
nothing has changed, though. maybe that's the scariest part. it's been ten years since the day that heung soo pulled him out of the despair of that funeral, and they're both circling the same feelings in just a slightly different way.]
no subject
in truth, there was never much he needed to worry about. at least, not to the extent he did. of course heung soo being separated from his body is a terrifying notion, just like losing his hearing completely for days way... but even then, they'd have found some way to communicate, right? what mattered is that despite everything that happened, they hadn't really abandoned each other.
then again, with what heung soo brings up—well, it brings back a lot of memories. some good, but mostly bad. it causes nam soon to pause with chopsticks in hand; the noodles just sitting between them, halfway from the bowl to his mouth. it takes a bit, but he has something to say to that.]
It's a lot like that day. [in more ways that he cares to remember. that day is still one of the worst in his life, and the only reason it's probably not the top worst is because heung soo saved him from himself a bit back then. but in the end, he was a mess and the only thing that calmed him down was heung soo's assurance. sure, they've grown up and the methods for making that assurance have changed in ways he could have never expected, but... still, they were there.]
I didn't change at all. [isn't that... a bad thing, in some way? sure, he'd been tsunami; he'd snapped because there was too much in life that he couldn't handle. he'd snapped and threw away so much of himself because it was easier, it was more fun, it was dangerous and exciting and the best way to not deal with every other issue.
but all it took was one step too far for nam soon to regain the perspective he'd lost in their middle school years. maybe he'd really just been a shell of himself from the moment his mother died, and heung soo had been the only thread that held the cloth together. he doesn't really know. thinking about that—well, it gives him a strange pang in his chest, one that leads him to letting the noodles slip out of chopstick's grip and back into the bowl.]
I never did anything for you, either. Not then. Not now. [he broke heung soo's leg and ran. he ran from every responsibility. he'd made a mess and didn't even bother to clean it up. he couldn't face his mistakes and shut down. and even this week, instead of chasing after heung soo's body, what did he do? he sat in the corner of the room, on the floor and cried how he did those other times. at the funeral, after breaking heung soo's leg.
he was useless. he hasn't changed, so it's almost laughable that heung soo had been so mad about those supposed changes back then. he was good at hiding it, maybe. good at it in that he'd learned how to close himself off to any feeling openly, and others just took it upon themselves to take that as friendship of some sort.
nam soon is completely useless without heung soo, and this is the first time he's really realizing it. he's always functioned before, but he chalked it up as a want more than anything else. he wanted to see heung soo again. he wanted to apologize. he wanted to reconcile. he wanted heung soo to get his payback. now... now he sees though that it isn't a want, but a need it's a strange sort of dependence to lean on someone else that way. and it's kind of scary. there's a level of self-loathing that nam soon definitely hasn't, and probably will never overcome for what happened before.
nothing has changed, though. maybe that's the scariest part. it's been ten years since the day that heung soo pulled him out of the despair of that funeral, and they're both circling the same feelings in just a slightly different way.]