Taehyung, Jimin; Its A Threeway

Taehyung, Jimin; it’s a threeway

✉in which Jimin and Taehyung have a crush on you and you can’t choose  ►2670 words | scenario, 95-line polyamorous ((omg this is going to be a thing, i have two other scenarios planned for them atm))

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See You Later | PJM

Title: See You Later (Jimin x Reader)

Rating/Genre: R | slice-of-life!au | smut | heavy angst | slight fluff

Word Count: 5.3k

Synopsis: Sometimes things just aren't meant to be. And sometimes, you stick close because you know you can figure it out.

Warnings & Tags: heavy angst, my intention was to make you sob, so apologies in advance, cursing, sex scenes (times 3): fingering, breast play, soft lovemaking, riding, both protected & unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it everyone), jimin going commando lol, brief handjob, ass smacking, dirty talk, oral (male and female receiving), any dirty talk is based on shit i’ve said in similar situations… so i guess now the internet just knows LMFAO, we can semi-thank my ex-boyfriend for this fic, praise, jimin says baby excessively, slight dick fetish (?

A/N: For my lovely friend @jimilter, happy (very late) birthday, babe (also thank you for making the banner for your fic)<3 A big thanks to @bangtanintotheroom, @yoonieper, and @ressjeon for the help in reading (and the hype up)! Love you guys <3 and another thanks to @chemicalpink because your suggestions were top tier

Fic Song: here <3 (would recommend checking out for vibe purposes)

go back to masterlist <- there!

News of your promotion came five years into your employment, somewhere within the start of the first snowfall. It had been thrilling at first, eyes alight at the prospect of advancing your career beyond the austere simplicity of a managerial label. It hadn’t been until you’d found out of your demanded departure to an entirely different nation that you’d pulled back — hesitant to leave the metropolis that’s held so many memories.

With a promise to return your boss’s sentiments the following day, you had scurried off, arms held snugly against the sides of your torso. There was absolutely no doubt that you’d accept the offer — you’d been working hard to make your way up the corporate ladder since the moment you’d set foot behind company doors. Every moment of overtime, every meal you’d purchased in hopes of impressing an eclectic group of maddeningly pompous CEOs and directors — it had all been for the sake of your resolve.

Jimin hadn’t been a part of the plan. It had been an unexpected encounter, something you had thought you’d only ever have the pleasure of seeing within the young adult novels that you’d used to collect in the back of your wardrobe as a teenager. Nevertheless, it had been quite the flourish of emotions, each day as remarkable as the last. As if he were made for you in the same way you were made for him.

It hadn’t just been the allure of his voice or the smile that oftentimes etched its way onto his face at most uncomplicated things. You’d taken it to be an infatuation at first, whether it’d been the way he’d spokne or the beat of his heart that had drummed rhythmically against the shell of your ear as you sat together, your head leaning against his built chest, the sofa in his living room enveloping you. Looking back, you supposed you had simply been in denial, the complexities of adoration far too intricate for your mind to handle.

It wasn’t until your first night together that you’d been undoubtedly sure that the tightness in your chest was something equating to affection. It had been nothing short of a joyous moment, lips latching onto his as if you’d become possessed. Everything had been a blur — from the rough edges of his palms against your outer thigh to the whine that fell past your lips as he began to work the straps of your dress away from your shoulders.

He’d been gentle within those moments, hands moving as if to memorise every inch of skin. You’d been frantic for any sort of touch, hands shifting to shove his fingers against your clothed core. It’d taken every ounce of resilience on your part not to beg him to move faster — his sinewy frame pushing further into you, fingers circling your clothed wetness with deliberate strokes. It wasn’t until his free hand pressed itself behind you that you’d realised that you hadn’t even made it entirely through his front entrance, the door sagging open, shaking against the brisk wind.

Taking a moment to catch yourself despite your laughter, you’d slung your arms around the front of his shoulders, gripping onto him as if your life had depended on it — perhaps it had if the uncomfortable wet patch clinging to your soaked entrance was any sort of indication.

“I think we should move this to your room,” you had giggled against the shell of his ear, whimpering at the momentary loss of contact as the man in front of you slanted himself forward, fumbling with the lock to his flat.

Once he’d returned to your embrace, arms moving to wrap themselves against the base of your hips, he’d simply nodded, seemingly lost in a lust-filled haze as he carried your form away into the back parts of his home. You couldn’t quite recall the particulars of your fumblings that first night almost three years ago after nearly having to replace the entryway to his house — but you’d remembered the way he’d carried you to your now shared bedroom, pressing you firmly into the sheets of his king-sized bed. The way he’d tugged at your garments carelessly, flinging what he could onto the floor below.

It hadn’t been any surprise that his hands were as skilled as his mouth, thumb moving to rub against your sensitive clit, your heart thrumming against your chest the more he pushed the pads of his fingers against you. You’d mewled, clawing at the sheets as he’d gently slipped that first finger into the warmth of your heat. Pumping his digits faster into your folds, he’d added a second, gently prying you open, tilting himself forward to whisper gentle praises into the crown of your head. It had been nearly impossible to resist the allure of his lips, and you’d pulled him away from your scalp, pushing your mouth onto his, tongue pressing boldly to intertwine with his in a feverish passion. You’d stayed like that, mouths heatedly moving together, arms laced around his neck — as if you could’ve conceivably tugged him any closer.

His fingers plunged further into your core as he moved — mouth leaving a wet trail of love bites as he sucked at the dips of your shoulders — leaving your wanting lips behind. Much to your dismay, he paused, eyes burning dark as he took in your spent features, red blossoming at the apples of your cheeks and flushing along the underside of your shoulders, “Can I-” using his other hand to clasp the tops of your breast, his fingers gently splayed over them, as if you were far too delicate to touch, “-touch you?” You’d nodded, back arching as he took a breast into his palm — the fingers on his other hand once again shoving themselves firmly into your heat.

You hadn’t had sex in months, and despite your effort to help yourself along within the comfort of your own home, nothing seemed to appease the aching heat that ran its course along your body for the while after your last breakup. Now though — with Jimin’s fingers plunging into your cunt, thumb circling your clit in rapid motions, his other hand squeezing along your breasts, fingers tweaking your hardened nipples — any pent up desire you’d had, had been entirely forgotten, the tips of your fingers clawing against the base of his back.

“Fuck Jimin, please,” you couldn’t precisely remember the entirety of your plea, your words slurring into a mix of chaotic nothingness, a knot forming at the base of your abdomen.

“That’s it, baby,” his fingers abandoned your soft breasts, moving to thread them into your hair, pulling at your locks, “cum for me.” With the push of a third finger into your heat, thumb pressed tight against your engorged clit; you came, eyes falling shut. With a final pump, he slid his fingers out of your soaked heat, pressing a gentle kiss against the corner of your lips.

Still gasping from your release, you’d shoved a hand to his solidly built chest, using the last bit of your strength to force him down beneath your heavy gaze. With a gentle tug, you began to unbutton his slacks, hesitating when you noticed a dark wet patch across the front, “Fuck,” you’d groaned, bottom lip moving to rest between your teeth, “are you-”

Smirking, the man below you began to drag the material away from his abdomen and down his legs, pushing both himself and you upward as he shook the cloth off his feet. He hadn’t been wearing any underwear — his cock springing forward, leaking precome against the base of his stomach. His cock was larger than you could’ve anticipated, equally girthy as it was long, veins protruding along the sides to where the tip lay, coloured an angry red.

“Do you want to- Fucking shit.” He’d whimpered, head falling back as you brought your fingers to the base of his shaft, thumb pressing gently against his tip. Pumping his length gently, you had leaned forward, lips making contact with his muscled abdomen, a moan falling past your parted mouth at the feeling of his stiff muscles beneath your plush lips, pressing your teeth gently into the skin to leave behind marks. Soothing the newly made lovebites with the tip of your tongue, you moved your free hand to press into your sopping pussy, groaning at growing wetness between your aching thighs.

Before you could bring your thumb to rub against your throbbing cunt, Jimin pulled himself from your grasp, hands moving from their place clasped on his bedsheet. One hand hugging the globe of your ass, his other drew back to deliver smacks to your ass in quick succession — causing your figure to fall forward as you cried out. “Did I tell you that you could play with yourself like that, baby? Did I say you could touch yourself?” Growling, he pulled you forward, mouth biting against one of your nipples, the tip of his cock pressing into your stomach.

“Fuck, please, I’m sorry, please, ah. I want your cock so bad, please.” You were a mess, your thighs slick with your juices, essence dripping onto the sheets below, “I’ll do anything you want, please Jimin, please.”

“Anything?” he’d mused, hands once again moving to cup your hips, fingers stroking at your sides. “Ride me.” he muttered, a grin slipping past his swollen lips, teeth uncurling from around the tip of your hardened nipple, “Show me how much you love my cock.”

Pulling you close, he had reached for his bedside table, fingers tipping to open the first drawer, “Where the hell-” With a sigh of relief, he pulled a condom out, bringing it to his teeth to tear at it. Eagerly, you wiggled your hips against his weeping cock, hoping to do anything to relieve the ache between your legs. “Be patient, or I won’t let you cum.”

With another slap to your ass, Jimin rolled the condom onto his sensitive cock, hips twitching. Whining, you lifted your body upwards, urging the man beneath you to guide your sensitive pussy onto his waiting cock. Taking a hand to the base of his cock, Jimin gently drew you forward, his hand clutching at your hip as you guided yourself down onto the tip of his twitching length — mouth falling open as he began to shallowly thrust upwards, one hand still pulling against the skin at your sides. “J-Jimin, m-more, deeper, ple-” With a sharp thrust of his hips, he situated his cock within your tight walls, striking your ass with a deafening slap using his palm.

Panting, you swivelled your hips against the base of his body, mouth opening as your bodies met in a heated passion. With a groan, Jimin’s head lulled, abdomen rising in an attempt to shove his twitching length further within your walls. “Fuck, just like that. You look so pretty like that, taking my dick so well. Do you like it-” Jimin’s fingers found their way to your scalp, yanking at the locks of hair that cascade across your face, “Do you like my cock that much, baby?”

“So, so much. I love it, ah, please, so close, shit.” You were sure that nothing you’d said was coherent, your words losing their place along the back of your throat, body rocking against his lean abdomen. Eyes falling closed, you focused your attention entirely on allowing your body to reach its peak for the second time that night — the knot in the pit of your stomach tautening as you rode his dick, fingers reaching to stroke against your sensitive nub.

Smacking your ass again, hands caressing along your sensitive skin as if to soothe the aching sting, Jimin tore himself away, cock drawing out of your weeping entrance. “I told you not to touch yourself. Didn’t I?” he’d growled, arms extending to pull yours over your head, twisting your body, your ass on full display as you mouthed into the pillow beneath you, “Stay still, or I won’t let you cum.” Gasping, he entered you from behind, the need for his release close as he thrust himself forward, hips lewdly smacking against yours.

Moving your face to rest against his pillow, moans quelled by the cloth pressed into your gaping jaw. With a pull against your scalp, Jimin curved your neck back, mouth pressing against yours as he fucked into you, cock shifting inside you with each thrust of his well-trained hips. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. You sound so pretty moaning my name.”

Pivoting your head to press your cheek into the cushion below, you moaned, Jimin’s cock thrusting at just the perfect angle, your vision blurring at the course of pleasure that shot through your spine, arms shifting to clutch onto any sort of tangible surface. “Right there. Right there, fucking hell.”

“I wanna see your pretty face,” pulling his cock free from your walls, Jimin pressed you onto your back, your body losing itself under the pressure of him entering your warm walls. You were too far gone to see the peak of affection in Jimin’s eyes, his body thrusting into you, hands stroking your hips, mouth pressed along the underside of your breasts. Instead, through the hesitant haze of pleasure, your mouth fell loose with praises, back arching, the knot in your stomach brewing closer to something more concrete, something entirely consuming as it was gratifying. Nails once again scratching down the base of Jimin’s back, eyes falling shut, breaths twisting together in a fervent passion. Your mouth opened to let out a string of expletives. Whimpering, your walls tightened, release squirting along the underside of Jimin’s cock.

“Shit, I-” His length, still hard within your swollen walls, twitched, the rubber of the condom making an unexpectedly uncomfortable appearance within you. Pressing yourself into him despite the harsh sensation within your heat, hoping, in some way, he received the hint of your willing continuation, you shifted, walls shoved firmly against his shaft.

With a press to your hip bone, he began to move faster, cock driving into you, abdomen pressed sharply into you. With a curse of your name, he came, short hair stuck against the nape of his neck, hips slowing down their fervent pace.

With a whisper against your ear, lips moving to press a soft kiss against your collarbones, Jimin detached himself from you. Hands reaching to remove the condom from his cock, he tied it shut with the tips of his fingers.

“I’ll be right back baby, let me get something to clean you up.” With a final swift peck to the crown of your head, he stood, the warmth of his body slipping past your naked form. “Stay right there, okay?”

The memory of that first night made you beam despite your hindered mood, fingers clasping the edge of your teal overcoat to further cover your trembling form, heels clacking against the hard pavement of your office’s parking lot. Jimin’s hair had grown since that first time together, his long tendrils now cascading over his forehead in dark waves, hair styled perfectly by your careful hands — the two of you spending hours locked within your shared bathroom, digits fiddling with the ends of his locks, his form sitting beneath your carefully studded gaze.

Even as you made your way home, memories of your life within your shared flat flooded your mind, twisting their way into your heart. How would you ever tell him — the man you’d spent each waking moment with, promises of loving each other until your last breath on the tips of your tongues, souls intertwining beneath your pressed sheets — that you needed to leave your life, leave him, behind?

The pads of your fingers drummed anxiously against your car’s steering wheel; the tune of the radio drowned out by the thoughts of having to break the news. It hadn’t been any particular moment that had made you assume he’d have a poor reaction to your announcement. Perhaps it was the thrumming of your heart pumping hard within your chest, desperate to remove itself from its confines, or the hesitancy to live without someone you’d come to adore despite the drive to move yourself up the never-ending spiral that was the corporate ladder. It had been nothing short of a conundrum, gut twisting as you pulled your car past the gates to your complex, gears shifting as you pulled into your allotted parking space.

Perhaps if you averted the topic of conversation until a later date to sometime over the weekend, when your schedules had dwindled to a slow trickle of basic activities. Maybe then it’d be easier to grasp at the words that sat against the back of your throat.

No sort of plan, though, could quite prepare you for the rap of Jimin’s knuckles against your car’s window in rapid succession, his face peeking into your tinted windows. With a swipe of your hand, you pressed the keys out of the ignition, unlocking the doors. Jimin’s chivalry wasn’t unexpected, his sinewy forearms coming into view as he opened the door of your car, though the faint pulse of your heart reminded you of the news you somehow needed to deliver to the absolute love of your life. You couldn’t wait. It wouldn’t be fair to him — the man who’d welcomed you into his home with open arms despite your hesitant insecurities; the man who’d taken all those days out to keep you company whenever you were especially ill, body curled into a ball against your grey sofa. The same man you’d sworn forever to.

“You’re back early. Did work go okay? I thought you said your boss wanted you to work overtime.” Reaching his body forward, he tugged your handbag out of your car, shutting the door behind him. “Not that I’m not happy you’re back. I saw your car pull up, so I wanted to come get you.”

Swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat, you pressed your fingers into his, threading your hands together. You’d give him the news tonight. When you could grasp everything yourself, perhaps then it’d be easier to deliver.

It was, in fact, not any easier to tell Jimin than it had been at the beginning of the evening, your legs resting atop his, fingers fiddling with the tips of his spiralling ebony hair. It had made you, for some rather arbitrary reason, more nervous, hands stopping their motions within his strands to rest atop your palpitating chest.

As if sensing the shift in your mood, digits reaching to cup at your heated face, Jimin pushed himself forward, stroking the skin across the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong? Do you need anything? Do you want me to make you something?”

You’d decided, through the tears falling against the corners of your eyes, that nothing would’ve quite compared to the love he’d shown you despite your flaws, despite your assurance that he was more than you could’ve ever possibly asked for. “I- I have to leave for work. As soon as possible, to a new city, permanently.”

He’d hesitated, body pulling back, eyes assessing your paling face — as if some part of him had hoped the tears cascading down your cheeks was an indication of something brighter, something hopelessly better than what he’d known was to come. “Baby, that’s amazing! Congrats,” he’d whispered, both hands pushing to stroke along the crown of your head, “I’m glad.You’ve worked hard.”

Your head fell against his shoulder, arms slanted against his abdomen, “I’d have to leave you here. You can’t leave; you have a life here. What are we going to do?” A cry, something so guttural, released itself past your cherried lips, tears streaming against the edges of Jimin’s shirt.

Lifting your face, Jimin pressed a kiss against your mouth, tongue pushing past your parted lips, twisting against yours in a fervent passion. “We’ll work something out. Just because we’ll be apart doesn’t mean we can’t talk every day. We can see each other on holidays, on New Years, all the time. Okay? Come on, look at me.”

Eyes locked with his, mouths close enough to touch, you’d nodded, hands shaking as you curled your fingers into Jimin’s dark locks, pressing his lips to yours once more. You’d been desperate, aching for his soft touch. Beyond the simple touch of his calloused hands, hands encircling your form with each loving stroke, you’d miss the laughter you’d shared at each mistake. Each awkward encounter, each discovery, the nights you’d share. Even now, hands encircling his as you brought his fingers to touch your clothed chest.

Without hesitation, hands practiced after the years you’d spent together, he slipped his palms past your shirt, unclasping your bra, thumb and forefinger pinching against your hardened nipple. Gasping, you’d clambered onto his lap, fingers shifted to drag at the rim of his navy boxers, tongue pressing firmly into his, hips grinding against the confines of his shorts. Lifting his hips, digits slipping away from your heaving chest, Jimin allowed your fingers to tug at the material of his briefs, dropping them along the edge of the bed, dick springing free to rest hardened against his toned abdomen. He was as beautiful as the first time you’d made love, the veins of his cock curving along each side, your cunt quivering at the thought of encompassing him within your tight walls.

Reaching your delicate hand forward, you squeezed the apex of his weeping length, thumb leaning to sit firmly against the tip of his slit. Spreading his precum along his base, hand working its way down in practised motions, you leaned to press a string of marks along the column of this throat, each spot blossoming into a firm red under your careful gaze. Nudging a final kiss to Jimin’s collarbone, your concentration drew, once again, to his hardened length, precum leaking from his aching tip. With a final squeeze, you move your fingers away, choosing instead to flatten yourself against the satiny sheets of your mattress, mouth dipping to press along his dick. With a press of your lips to the head, Jimin’s head falls back, eyes shutting in breathless pleasure.

“Fuck princess, right there, shit.” Removing his hands from their place against your bedding, he threaded them through your hair, working your mouth along his cock, forcing you deeper, balls slapping against the edges of your flushed face. Digging your fingers into his hips, you flattened your tongue, urging his length further down the back of your throat, hearing him gasp as you swallowed around him. Gagging, you moved his cock further into your mouth, digits reaching to stroke the patch of skin that remained untouched, your throat far too small to hold the entire span of his dick. You couldn’t quite tell if the tears falling against your cheeks were from the pressure of having Jimin’s cock along the back of your throat, or if it was the cave of thoughts rushing along your hazy mind, the idea that it could’ve been the last time in a while that you’d get to see Jimin lost in a fit of pleasure, head lolling as he moved you further along the length of him in desperate strokes.

With a final gasp, cock quivering against your swollen lips, Jimin came, spilling into your mouth. Caressing your tongue against his slit, attempting to gather any remaining bits of his relief, you swallowed, the pads of your fingers moving to press along the sides of his lips, gathering his cum into your mouth, sucking at your digits, devouring the last bits of him down your throat.

Pressing himself upwards, the veins on his forearms protruding at each flex of his muscular physique, Jimin gently cupped the edge of your jaw, the tips of his fingers stroking the sides of your face. He’d noticed your tears for the second time that night, mouth encompassing yours in a gentle kiss, willing the tears away. “We’ll be fine, remember? Nothing can pull us apart. I’ll love you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Sob etching its way against the back of your throat, you shook your head. You didn’t deserve it — him, his love, the affection brimming against the corners of his sparkling eyes. Twisting your body, Jimin grabbed at your hips, positioning your body below his. Hands reaching to remove his shirt, abdomen tightening against the cool air, he lowered himself, mouth pressing against your clothed heat. With a push of his fingers, he pulled at the edge of your grey sweats, pulling them past your legs and off your curled feet. Mouthing you through your panties, dripping folds stuck against the material of your underwear, Jimin wrapped his pointer finger around the silky fabric, tearing it off your reddened form with a brisk tug.

“You don’t have to do this,” you’d muttered, hands weaving along his scalp, hands grasping at his dark strands, “I don’t deserve it.” Moments of doubt often etched the confines of your mind, thoughts swirling against the back of your throat, willing themselves to spill against your honeyed lips. His presence had been more than enough, and yet, somehow you’d never quite been able to get rid of the idea that he deserved better — better than you, better than anyone.

Instead of answering, eyes drawn to your swollen heat, he pressed his skilful tongue against your clit, sucking at it as if he were a man starved. Perhaps he had been starved, your days together far and few in between with the necessity to provide income becoming too much to bear, nights spent twisted against one another, hearts beating in tandem, sleep far too close to become anything more.

“This,” he paused, hand reaching to slap against your drenched folds, “is mine. You’re worth more than anything, and if you really don’t believe me, I’ll spend as long as I have to trying to prove that you’re enough.” Diving his face down, a single digit moving to encompass itself within your rigid walls, he began to suck at your clit, finger pressing in and out of your pussy, a string of moans falling past your lips. Pressing another digit into your warmth, Jimin shifted his mouth to press kisses along your navel, mouth sucking at your stomach to leave lovebites.

Tears glistened against your rosy face, arms combing along the back of Jimin’s neck. Hands nearing his shoulder blades, walls clenched around his thick fingers, licks of pleasure coiled against your rigid abdomen in tandem with each of his skilled movements. “Fuck. I’m coming.” Walls sucking against his digits, arms wrapping themselves against his torso, you came, eyes squeezing shut as you rode his fingers, a cry bubbling past your spit-soaked lips.

Tears pressing themselves against the corner or your eyes, you shoved yourself closer, gripping Jimin’s dark strands. Lips pressed against his in a fervent passion, his fingers slid from your core, making their way to tangle themselves against your waist. It had been a goodbye, you’d supposed, tongue twisting into his mouth, a sob escaping against the delicate caress of his tongue.

You had a mind to tell him to leave, let you go with a flourish of your last time within his embrace. Although you hadn’t broken up, your heart clenched within your chest, mind a frenzy despite your lover’s embrace. You hadn’t deserved his care or affection. You were leaving everything, you were leaving him.

As if he’d been able to read your thoughts, he gently squeezed your hips, face snuggling into your hair. “Whatever you’re thinking — stop it. We’ll work this out, okay? You’re perfect. You’re more than I could’ve ever asked for. Promise me. You won’t overthink. You’ll do amazing and I’ll be there, even if it’s on the phone or over text. We’ll make it work.”

A promise echoing against your shared silence, you’d nodded, Jimin’s arms releasing you from his grip, his body pressing against yours under the dim lights.

“Love you?”

“Forever and always, baby.”

The day of your move came sooner than expected. The twist of first snow had turned into the breath of spring. Flowers blooming despite the heaviness of your heart. It was nice, you’d thought, that at least something was consistent. The weight within your chest, pain echoing unbearably within your rib cage, was easier to ignore with time. Your moments with Jimin perhaps just sweet enough to be able to bear him sending you off, fingers clasped against yours.

“Do you have everything you need? You’re sure you don’t want me to grab you something for the flight?” You nearly grinned at the worry laced within his baritone voice, digits clinging to his tighter as you pecked the apple of his cheek, pulling yourself from him with a final tug.

“I’m sure. I have to go now, don’t want to miss my flight.” You didn’t look back. Despite your promises — the vow of forever sealed against your locked lips within the shared wall of your flat — a whimper etched against the back of your throat, a hand covering your mouth in hopes of willing the pain away. You’d make it. For you, for him, for everything you’d sworn wrapped tight against his muscular frame.

Even as his gruff voice filled the airport terminal, “I’ll see you later. Have a safe flight!” You didn’t turn around. Even as you made your way past security, your bags clutched tightly against your side, arms shaking in anticipation. Even as you boarded your flight, back pushing further into the cushion of your assigned chair, your shared oath sitting itself against the edge of your mind playing over and over again, a semblance of peace only coming as you took off, eyes falling to the ground below.

It’d been a month since you’d last talked, a month since you’d left. Your new flat was uncomfortably empty. You’d assumed, at first, that you’d needed to make it yours. A picture here, a picture there. Even as you added touches to each space, it felt lonesome. It was hard to admit that you missed him so easily. Couldn’t you live without his presence? Without his laugh? Without his scattered knick-knacks cluttering your counterspace?

Clambering onto your plastic covered couch — you rarely used the living room, you supposed it was because it was rather boring to sit alone, the only company the echo of television — you wrapped your arms against the corners of your knees, head leaning against your quivering lap. You couldn’t, that much was obvious. Every moment of your shared love had carved itself into your heart, burning against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard the knock at your door until the third time. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin, legs ramming into the edge of your glass coffee table. With a muttered curse, you stood, massaging the pain away, scrambling toward the front entrance of your flat.

Pausing to glance through the peephole, you’d nearly collapsed, tears once again rimming the edges of your swollen eyes. Flinging the door open, you flew forward launching yourself into the arms of the man you’d dared not forget, heart too heavy to do anything other than miss him. “H-how are you-”

“I told you I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

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