mikaela monsoon ❤ (pink_pot) wrote,
mikaela monsoon ❤

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Five Times You Didn’t Confess (Plus One Time You Did)

Title: Five Times You Didn’t Confess (Plus One Time You Did)
Author: inyeonin / pink_pot
Pairing: Hanchul
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, romance, angst(?)
Warnings: grammar mistakes
Summary: He had five chances but they were all of wrong times.

Author's Notes: I really miss hanchul. :( I miss writing them.

Five Times You Didn’t Confess (Plus One Time You Did)


You always hated him. You hated seeing stars within his very eyes and made a realization in a ‘Damn! I need a cigarette’ kind of a way because he was still looking at you like how he has been doing so for a lifetime, then you cursed yourself for even thinking twice about it. But at the times when he left you for China, you hated him even more.

When he came back two weeks later, you hid the I miss you’s with So, how much your Korean deteriorated, Chinaman? And he understood what’s behind that. You smiled because there’s nothing to do and he was smiling at you too as if saying I miss you too. Yet, you’re already dreading the time when he finally decided not to understand you anymore. Because you’re fucking complicated.


Friday was still your favourite day ever—next to your birthday of course. There’s nothing greater than screeching ‘freedom!’ along the corridors after your professor dismissed your last class. You ignored the way your teacher glared at you for being rude in the subtlest way which surely pissed him off because he always wanted to give you detentions for coming at him which was ironic. And then you smirked at him before you bounced away to find your best friend.

Yet, it always so happened that after class you found yourself cornered by your loyal, most loyal fans—bless them—who found ‘fun’ in bullying you. Of course, you could take up a good fight—of course, because you’re a man. But somehow, wearing a skirt and being alone made it impossible.

And this was when he would always found you. And he would be your freaking Prince Charming who did martial arts like the back of his hand but was smug about it.

Few bruises and bloody lips were all of you but you did not care. You could not care because he was still there, fighting for you. Here, not China. Not
anywhere. Just here.

After, you tried to say ‘Thank you, I like you’ but then you sucked it up instead and hit him I the face and say “Don’t protect me, anymore. I’m not a girl for god’s sake!” He was silent because he understood your words, not your feelings.


It was a fact you established whenever he came over your house—a fact you wanted to ignore so much yet it seemed to be always on your face. You
glanced at him and there went the loud pitter-patters of your heartbeat as looked at him lying on your bed, reading one of your favourite books. You were shocked for a moment because he was so perfect like that and then he looked at you and you cursed yourself to stop blushing furiously. You tried to stop from imagining waking up each morning next to him, arguing what kind of toothpaste to buy and covers (knowing you would fight for the color pink), and sleeping together.  It was perfect but then it was so impossible that your heart dropped and burst like a fuming volcano.

He gave you a confused look and you replied nothing but then he was there, understanding you again and you wanted to cry because, ‘Could I have you?’ did not mean ‘Best friends forever’.

Life really was unfair as you glanced at his airplane to China, tiny bits of clouds’ puffs and gas trails tracing their way back to you.


As you watched the night turned light blue, you remembered how it felt with his fingers ghostly tracing yours, following the patterns of a mix of red and purple veins, feeling your lungs squeezed for a moment or two, before it finally let you breathe again. The silence was deafening that time but the loud wails of your heart remained constant, wishing, wishing, praying, for some kind of miracle.

You closed your eyes as you lie down at the cold floor of the rooftop, peace reigning on the place you used to litter with laughs and bickers with him. I miss you, you uttered, fog dancing beneath your lips as you gripped your cellphone. Your text of Hey sexy, did China suck the life out of you? remained unanswered.

It was two in the morning when he replied: “Mom likes her! I’m so happy!” You smiled at the three smiley faces after the text and remembered how his smiles looked like.

Then you swore against the frost air as you felt the pain sipping in, igniting the tears to fall again. But beneath the water in your eyes, you drew two opposite curves in the sign of love on your phone screen.


He came back the week later, showering you with the Chinese stuffs you hated so much. They just always reminded you how foreign they were—how far they came from. But you masked your glare at those supplements with a hearty slap on his shoulders. He laughed back, the sound of it seemed to echo on your ears for a long moment. Then he packed your things because he decided to have an impromptu trip with you. You asked why and silence replied you. The twinkle in his eyes said so much but you would not dare define them.

It was night time when you two lie against the prickly grass on the same place you ran to ten years ago. You were content with seeing stars on his eyes once more, as he stayed unmoving. I’ll marry her. I might not come back, he finally said and you replied okay because there’s just nothing to  say. He looked at you and you knew he understood.

Then for now, let’s just forget the world, you said five seconds later. You tried to memorize the patterns of glow on his eyes for this might be the last time you could.

Because now did not mean forever.

The First and Last

It was beginning to rain outside. He returned to China, of course. Always China. But now he was there to face a promising future with the girl he chose to spend forever with. You blissfully, painfully moved on because there’s nothing to do but just that. Nothing but that. You knew if you did not, you might go insane with remembrance.

You still cried at nights, gripping the sheets so hard as if they could free you from the pain. Sometimes, you preferred if you just did not meet him. You wished that too much. Because if you didn’t, you might not had fallen headlessly, recklessly in love with him. But then, most of the times, you admitted that you regret nothing.

It was past two in the morning when you rang him, one hand holding an empty bottle of alcohol, as your call went straight to his voicemail.

“I cannot unlove you.”

It was in the late morning when confusion took over as you looked at the missed calls and texts from him. You frowned when you read: “I can’t do that too.” And then you’re fighting with the toilet bowl for the next minutes before you remembered. You laughed crazily, feet tapping against the bottles and empty wrappers.

You’re still laughing when you threw your phone at the window. Tears brimmed against every breath you took, as you watched how it fell—how easy it  was to fall, huh?—and got eaten by the traffic from the 15th floor. And then you wondered what you were doing.

“Letting go,” you said to yourself.


first posted on my new journal --> inyeonin. All of my fics will be posted there first and this will be my personal journal though I will not delete my old hanchul fics here...You can add me up there~! :D

Tags: fanfic: one-shot, hanchul
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.