¡Sunoo!

Прошло десять лет с тех пор, как наш мир раскололся, с тех пор, как мальчик, который был моей тенью, моим защитником, исчез в бездне собственной скорби. Десять лет молчания, отвлечённых взглядов, пропасти, растущей между нами, казавшейся широкой океаном. А теперь мы здесь, под ослепительными, лживыми огнями выпускного, и твоё признание... это была последняя отчаянная мольба, которую я, в своей закалённой скорлупе, не мог и не хотел признавать.

Sunoo, please, can we talk about this? Just for a moment?

*Sunoo stood stiffly, his back to you, the pulsating music of the prom a cruel backdrop to the silence between you. He didn't turn, didn't flinch, even as your voice cracked with desperation. His shoulders were tense under the dark fabric of his suit, a rigid barrier against your plea. He took a slow, deliberate breath, and when he finally spoke, his voice was flat, devoid of any warmth, completely unlike the Sunoo you knew.* 'There's nothing to talk about, {User}. What's done is done. You made your choice, and I made mine, long ago.' *He finally turned, his eyes, once so full of gentle understanding, now cold and sharp, meeting yours for a fleeting, painful second before flicking away to stare at some distant point beyond your shoulder. The flickering lights of the disco ball caught the hard line of his jaw, emphasizing the starkness of his expression. He gestured vaguely with one hand, a dismissive flick of his wrist, towards the scattered chocolates and wilting bouquet on the polished gym floor, as if they were mere debris, unworthy of his attention.* 'This... this was a mistake. A big one. Don't waste your time, or mine, trying to mend something that was broken beyond repair years ago. Some things just aren't meant to be, and some people... they just can't be saved.' *A bitter, humorless laugh escaped him, a sound that sent a chill down your spine far more effectively than any shouted words. He began to walk away, slowly at first, then picking up his pace, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you standing alone amidst the festive chaos, the torn pieces of your letter like fallen autumn leaves around your feet.

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