in hell there’s heaven
half baked stories series. angst. 2nd person but jaehyun centric. warnings: cheating, weed smoking. inspired by solo by frank ocean
If Jaehyun could do anything in the world right now, he would go back to 3 days ago, slap himself in the face, and call you. He wants that more than he’s ever wanted anything in your relationship, but he didn’t do that.
3 days ago Jaehyun cheated on you. 3 hours ago the guilt hit him so hard he wanted to cry, an emotion he wasn’t particularly comfortable with expressing in front of you, when you told him you were so happy he was yours. Because, yes, that’s technically true, but 2 days and 21 hours ago Jaehyun was kissing the neck of another woman, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and entering into her with far too much ease.
So 3 minutes ago he decided to tell you about his infidelity. Jaehyun never believed the “eyes are the window to the soul” bullshit until that exact moment when he saw in your eyes your heart breaking.
“I-I need a minute.” You say, walking away. You did that a lot. Insecurity built up from relationships past left you uneasy with the idea of expressing anger towards a partner. Even when you and Jaehyun fought you always conceded first, letting him win even if you were still hurt. Jaehyun knew this, and he always tried his hardest not to take advantage of it and you, always letting you know you had the space to be upset.
He didn’t say that this time, though. He knew he didn’t need to, that damn look in your eyes communicated it enough.
3 seconds of sitting alone on the couch, eyes glued to his shut bedroom door that you just locked yourself into to think, Jaehyun decides he can’t sit with these feelings.
So he doesn’t, in a manner that is just so him, he decides on taking the fresh pre-roll he bought from the dispensary earlier to share with you out to the balcony alone.
The old and derelict lawn chair squeaked concerningly as he sat down, but he doesn’t care. He takes the white lighter he bought himself as a bad luck charm out of his pocket and the joint up to his lips, flicking the lighter and burning his eyes at the flame. He takes a few puffs in, not inhaling, just to start the sweet burn. He blows softly on the cherry end to prevent it from canoeing before taking his first real drag, eyebrows scowling at the peppery taste. He hates this strain, but it was the only one that seemed to calm your anxiety, like truly mellow you out. So he sacrificed.
Jaehyun was famous at ignoring his emotions, bottling them up until they burst. No matter what he was truly feeling, he always expressed anger when he exploded. He lost a lot of relationships because of that, but you stayed, you always did. It takes a lot out of him to admit to himself that earlier today when he felt so upset he wanted to cry, he scared himself. Jaehyun doesn’t care about many things enough to want to cry over them, but suddenly at the prospect of hurting you his tear ducts sprung to life again. He thought they had shriveled up and died.
That’s one of the many things he guesses he gained from you, emotional freedom, assurance that he isn’t a waste of space and time, unconditional support in his dreams, and the gift of what he suspects is the love of his life.
He guesses that’s all gone now.
He’s torn away from his thoughts when the screen door to the balcony opens and you step out to join him. There’s a second chair out here but you don’t sit, standing and staring at your bare feet. He wants to tell you to go back inside and put on shoes before the ants bite you, but it feels like the wrong time so he doesn’t.
He chooses to just stare at you, your hair partially blocking your face as you look down still. He’s pretty stoned at this point, halfway through the joint.
He doesn’t know what to do, and time feels so very slow so he offers you the joint by moving his hand below your line of sight. He doesn’t imagine there’s a way you’ll say no to it, you know the scent. You must know it’s your favorite. You must know he bought it for you.
Unbeknownst to him, though, nothing can calm the anxiety you have right now.
“Jaehyun, I can’t do this.” You finally look at him, and the look in your eyes, those damn eyes and that damn look break his heart again. He doesn’t show it though, just pursing his lips and letting a frown settle.
“I-I can’t be with you anymore.”
He watches the tear roll down your cheek. He wants to scoff, but his heart is too broken. An unmistakable feeling of emptiness and regret fills him, a stinging pain that he tries to swallow down stays burning behind his sternum.
He’s broken. Fully, entirely, all encompassingly broken.
“Are you going to say anything?” You say.
And no, he wasn’t particularly planning on it. What is there to say? He fucked up, he knew it right after it happened and even a small part of him during it too, but there’s no going back.
He knows that not one word he could say that would convince you that he loves you more than he loves the freedom to do whatever he wants.
Now, though, he’s questioning which is a bigger priority to him.
You shake your head and scoff at him before turning, opening the screen door and leaving for the last time.
He’s full of too many emotions he doesn’t know how to name, so he screams. To the owls hooting in the trees, to the moon, to God if He was listening.
For the first time ever in his 25 years of living, Jaehyun had to come to terms with his emotions.
He fucking hated it, and he still loves you. That was the worst part.
