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left for a revolution

title: left for a revolution

pairing: jeno & reader

genre: angst, angst, angst

summary: the boy she loves leaves her for a revolution.

author’s note: a small drabble i wrote while procrastinating. loosely based off revolution novels - not rlly historical based and purposely very vague as it is left for your interpretation.

He was her entire galaxy. The stars were smeared in his hair, moon dust filled his lungs, and she never knew the universe had a flavor until she kissed him. He may not have conquered the sun, but he had already conquered her heart years ago.

She thinks she’s always been in love with Lee Jeno. It has been a fundamental part of her since she was five.

She just wishes their circumstances were different — that he wasn’t the rebel with a hero complex and she wasn’t the pacifist with helpless parents weighting down on her shoulders.

Now, she won’t ever see how good old age looks on him. She won’t hear the sleepy words he murmurs under his breath when he thinks she’s asleep. The endearing behaviour he exhibits whenever he’s drunk past his tolerance level. 

(”Hold me,” he whines in her ear, stumbling over his steps. His hands reach for her, tightly curling his fingers into the edge of her shirt.

She interlaces their fingers together while muffling a chuckle. Pressing a small kiss on the corner of his mouth which earns her a satisfied smile from him.

“Alright, alright, you big baby,” she gently teases, running her fingers through the dark strands of his hair. He instinctively leans into her touch.

“But I’m your baby.” He crookedly grins back with adoration emitting from his gaze.)

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, grasping her tightly to his chest. There’s a tightening sensation gripping her heart and she’s suffocating. The air escapes her lungs and she feels like she’s grabbing on to a mirage of a lifeline, falling into an endless pit of utter oblivion. She drowns in his embrace, his touch, his presence, the tears falling down his face which intermix with the ones on hers, because this is the last time she’ll ever see him again.

He promises to return, but they both know, it’s nothing but a lie. She inhales a shaking breath, her mind zeroing on him—trying to memorize every edge, curve, and fragment of him. A memory is only thing she can keep.

And eventually, she’ll forget the brown tint of his irises, the way his eyes crinkle into small crescent moons when he’s happy, the sound of his laughter when he finds her little shenanigans amusing especially when it ends up with a kiss on his nose and cheek, and the soft but steady drum of his heartbeat that beats in time with hers.

The boy she loves leaves her for a revolution and she doesn’t think she can ever forgive him for that.