I Cried And I'm Not Even Lee Chan - Tumblr Posts

— linger, lee chan.

angst | 594

chan throws his head back as he empties the liquid in the small shot glass he's gripping tightly in his hand. he doesn't even remember exactly how much alcohol he'd consume at this point but he vaguely sees the concerned look the bartender standing opposite him shoots him as he collects back all the empty glasses scattered across the counter.

everything is a blur to him, the entire night feels unreal. all the little events that eventually led up to the argument with you that occurred hours ago and the aftermath of the argument — you leaving and him sitting in this bar alone, drinking his pain away.

he feels the familiar hot, stinging feeling behind his eyes again and he quickly downs another shot, hoping to numb the feeling before angrily wiping his tears away.

that's the issue with you, he hears your voice, you're always so emotional. he mutters a soft “sorry” in response before realising that the voice was in his own head. he wishes that everything else was just in his head too.

he starts thinking, a big mistake on his part. but he starts thinking about how his world came crumbling down when the words “it's over” left your lips, the very same lips that used to tell him how much you loved him and how he was your everything, the same lips that would kiss all his pain away. he starts thinking about how he's supposed to live his life without you in it, you were all he's ever known and loved. he starts thinking about how he'd get through tonight once he leaves this bar and goes back home.

home, he contemplates with a bitter laugh. can he still call it his home when you're no longer in it? when all that's left there to haunt him is the ghost of the love you once had for him.

he somehow manages to stumble back to the apartment on his own and he opens the door and just as he'd guessed, it was cold, dark and empty. you weren't there to welcome him home with your warm, comforting hug. you weren't there to take care of his pathetic, drunk self. you weren't there and you won't ever be anymore but traces of you lingered. they were littered everywhere in every single corner of the apartment, mocking him relentlessly. there's no escaping.

he hangs his keys up on one of the two hooks on the wall in the doorway and notices the one next to his was empty. he opens the fridge to get a drink and there was one last can of your favourite soda. he goes into the bathroom to get himself cleaned up and his toothbrush sits alone in the holder and his towel was the only one on the rack. he opens the wardrobe to see your side had been completely cleaned out. he goes to bed with your side unoccupied and for the first time in years he notices how big the bed actually is.

he misses the way you'd cuddle up to him every single night despite the sweltering summer heat, he misses the smell of the shampoo in your hair whenever he snuggles his face into the back of your neck, he misses the sound of your light snores because you'd always fall asleep before him. he miss you.

he closes his eyes when tears threaten to spill for the countless time that night and his last thought before consciousness finally ebbs away is how everything was real and now he's all alone.