Word count: 150
Concrit?: Sure, why not.
Summary: Jaejoong confesses.
Changmin’s breathing is shallow, pained as he leans his head back and rests an arm across tired eyes. He is quiet in his misery, handsome in his pain, and you find yourself kneeling on the floor, admiring the picture he paints under the faded white lights.
(Human – despairingly so. Raw flesh bleeding colours that are saturated with heartbreak. He is stained around the edges with freshly brewed tears and is quickly wilting with hollowed regret.)
He flinches when you touch his knee, and the guilt flows freely through your veins, interlacing with horrifying shades of hurt and fear and love love love, and you bite down the words even though they choke. You swallow your secrets, sour and repulsive, and instead you give him what he wants – time; solitude. You owe him that much.
Today he is hurt. Tomorrow he will heal.
Changmin has always been stronger than you are.