Genre: Slight . . . Abstract.
Summary: Yunho cries only before Jaejoong, because Jaejoong is always there for him.
A/n: My muses have left me for the longest time ever. Tonight I feel like posting something, but my creative juices have dried up, completely, and so I bullshit with something like this.
For those who reads my works, please read this like this is not written by me but someone who is desperate to have her dry well filled to the brim again. For those who do not know me at all, please treat this as a newbie's bored writings...my first time writing in a first person's point of view.
Feedback appreciated, Thank you ♥
The salty little dews fall, and I caught them, with my forefinger on his tanned cheek, his dark brows come together into a pained frown, his eyes closed, lashes fluttered, lips parted.
I bring the moist fingertip to my mouth, part my lips, and taste it. The marvelous saltiness from my best friend’s soul. I lick the tip of my finger, almost swallowing it whole.
His pain clenches my heart, and it frustrates me.
“This is not enough, Jaejoong ah . . . I must be stronger. I cannot fail them. I cannot fail us. I must be stronger. I cannot fail.”
He is suffering; my eyes can see that, my heart can feel that. But I am not going to offer him any consolations. I am not going to tell him he can do it. He can do it, of course, because he is Jung Yunho. The Jung Yunho all of us have chosen to lead us into a future where no one can ever attain. But I am not going to tell him that. He is in pain, but I am not going to give him the courage he needs so badly.
Instead, I say, “lay in my arms, Yunho ah.”
And so he does.
He seeks comfort in my arms. I am not going to tell him he is doing fine and all of us will support him no matter what. Instead, I want him to know, my arms are the only real consolation that he needs, and will ever need.
You will need me, Yunho.
You need me.
“Hyung, lately . . . don’t you think you have pushed yourself a little too . . . hard?”
I raise my gaze from my chopstick of rice and stare hard at Junsu. And then I shift my gaze to the man beside me, waiting for the response I know will stir little bubbles of anger within me.
“Hyung . . .” Our dear little Kim Junsu reaches across the table to cover Yunho’s balled fist on the table with his warm palm. Our dear and naïve Kim Junsu. Our dear Junsu dongsaeng who is always under the protection wing of his Yunho hyung. “You have us. You can share anything with us . . . You are our leader, but that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder everything alone. We will always be here to share.”
Indeed, Yunho starts to show signs of softening of his bow-strung nerves on the face. He hesitates for a moment, the little light in his eyes shimmer, and then he starts to open his mouth.
But I cannot let it happen. Yunho is going to lean towards Junsu, the longest friend he has in this group before me.
“Yunho is the leader, and he is strong enough to shelter us from everything. Don’t you trust your Yunho hyung’s ability, Junsu ah?”
The stark stunned look on Junsu’s face and the pain-stabbing look on Yunho’s face give me the satisfaction that I am the one with the upper hand now.
Is Yunho ever going to admit that he is weaker than what we perceived him to be?
Is Junsu ever going to claim that Yunho is not strong enough as a leader and a hyung to shelter us from all obstacles?
“Jaejoong is right, Junsu ah . . . Hyung is fine, and so you needn’t . . . worry.” His smile is so forced and lonely. Junsu is naïve, but he is not insensitive. And although it pisses me, I know he knows to read Yunho’s expressions well enough to know that Yunho does not need to be exposed of his helplessness right now.
Junsu looks like he is torn between voicing out his thoughts and keeping his doubts within himself both for the sake of his Yunho hyung. And so, he has to go.
“Junsu, go wake Yoochun and Changmin up. Breakfast time is nearly over. We have to leave in less than an hour’s time.” I narrow my eyes slightly to put my point across, and to exert my sense of authority as the eldest hyung. It is easy to get Junsu moving. Somehow, he responds to hyung’s command-like message pretty well.
Junsu tosses a worried glance towards Yunho before nodding with a small ‘Yes’ and leaves the table.
Finally, only me and Yunho left.
“They are your dongsaengs, Yunho ah.” My voice is so soft and full of understanding that even I feel proud of myself for the illusion. “You may not have the courage to bare your troubles to them, but you can tell me. I am not your dongsaeng . . .”
Yunho looks up at me with almost hope on his face. Which is exactly what I want.
“You can always come to me, Yunho ah. I will always be here for you.”
And he does.
Yunho then becomes a leader who does not cry in front of his dongsaeng. He cries before none but me.
I am the only one who sees his tears.
I am the only one who knows how his pretty lashes will shimmer with little shiny salt dews.
I am the only one who knows how his supple lips would part with a slight tremble that could squeeze one’s heart.
And I am the only one who knows how utterly beautiful he is when his tears rolled with lids shut.
So fragile, so beautiful. The seemingly strong Jung Yunho in the public. But before me, he is so beautifully fragile that I wish to hold him against my chest and crush his ribs.
Only I know.
And so I have finally become the someone special in his heart. My status in his world is finally higher than any of them four.
What is the nine years of friendship between Yunho and Junsu?
What are the pouring-the-souls-into-the-night conversations with Yoochun? What is the advice seeking from the mature Changmin?
None of these matters to me anymore, because none of them has ever witnessed his tears. They will never be able to have the chance of holding their breaths from the prettiness of a tearing Yunho. To feel your breath hitched in your chest when his pretty lips started to tremble. To feel your heart ached when he raised his tearing orbs into your soul.
I continue to hold Yunho in my arms, my hand patting on his shoulder blades, my mouth whispering words of ‘I’ll always be here for you’, my eyes staring into nothingness while he cries soundlessly in my arms.
“Jaejoong . . . how could I ever live without you?”
The corners of my mouth stretched into a full bloomed grin.
“Shh . . . I’ll be always here for you . . . because no one but me can truly understand you, Yunho ah.”
My Yunho ah.
a/nII: ...don't everything in here seem kind of abrupt? Even the way it ends. lol. I want my idiotic muses back.