Your name isn’t etched onto his body, carved into his skin – atop his breastbone, above his heart.
And his name isn’t on your body, it isn’t etched onto you, carved into you – a tight pressure grows in his chest, he swallows the sea and the saltwater drowns his lungs.
Hearts are about to burst for love.
—
It’s raining.
You grip onto a very red umbrella.
Warmth then, spreads across his chest – setting ablaze, a searing ache grows in the depth of his chest, beneath his bones. Sinks into his gut, burning. He watches, he lingers, in the backdrop of your life.
You grip onto a very red umbrella, and feel the burning gaze on the back of your head – you know what it feels like to be seen, and it only makes you sink into a throb.
It’s raining, and you don’t like Minghao but you know he likes you.
It rains and you grip a very red umbrella.
—
“Can you move already?”
You mutter, pushing past him. Brushing against him, warm skin against his – his heart pounds, and yours is heavy in your chest.
“Sorry…”
He says the moment you’re gone, stares at the space you once took up – he watches, he lingers.
(A tight pressures grows in his chest, the sea swallows his lungs, salt sticks to his insides – you becomes oxygen for Minghao, but you don’t like him very much.)
—
Your cheeks are red. A discoloration, rubbed raw from the paw of your woollen sweater. Your eyes are dazed, stuck on Jeonghan.
Minghao watching, lingering – there’s burning, there is salt overflowing in his lungs. Tipping over.
Jeonghan’s thumb strokes your brow, his fingertips soft against your skin. Your hand lifts, fingers curl around his wrist; a hard-edged look settles on your face but your eyes tell a different story; the look you give him is tender, pained – a look that says you will never be theirs. Not Jeonghan’s. Not Minghao –
And Minghao is watching until your gaze finds his, he breathes and at the same time he doesn’t – your face shifts, mouth twitches.
It feels like an ache, a bruise brushed. He sees you take a deep breath, chest lifting; it makes his ribs hurt.
You lift your chin, fingers uncurling.
Your gaze stays on Minghao, and for once, Minghao is seen.
(You push Jeonghan away. Jeonghan smiles. A knowing one.)
—
He hears a conversation he shouldn’t have.
(“Do you have a soulmate?” Low, whispered. Jeonghan has you cornered, hidden on the corner of an emptied street, beneath a street lamp.
“What’s it to you?”
“It’s true then,”
The rumors reach you slow, soft.
“What is?”
Jeonghan is holding you then, arms around your neck. “You don’t have a soulmate.”
You’re quiet. Deafening, a low ring in his ears.
“It doesn’t matter…”
Jeonghan is more than a friend to you, he knows you better than anyone – “Me too. Me too.”)
The rumors started when a man asks for you name. Hopeful, – pitiful. Breathes air like it hurts, looks at you like you have stars in your hair.
“I–, it’s (name)…”
You look pained. And the man isn’t hopeful anymore – instead he smiles, tells you his name. Asks for your time, a coffee. And so more more that remains hidden beneath his voice.
“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t… I don’t like the idea of dating.” But something is missing, there is more.
You don’t like the idea of not having a soulmate.
And then you are gone. Gathered your belongings in your arms, leaving. As if you were never there, like you never existed.
Jeonghan follows.
—
It’s raining.
But you stay.
Minghao watches, Minghao lingers.
Watches you until he can’t breathe, the air winds out of him. Stutters out, before he speaks. Quietly, “You hate me.”
And there is no longer silence, just static in his ears. It’s unspoken, a wordless secret. Brings heat to his heart, he remembers the name on his skin – remembers you aren’t like most people.
“I… I, I don’t… Hateyou.”
Well-worn hate on your face fades; something sadder breaks to the surface of it.
The words burn his throat.
“I want you.”
Your voice is small, “Wha– what?”
The words pour out. “You heard me…” Bites back, Minghao looks at you silently. He won’t beg, he will let you slip through his fingers. His eyes blur, the first tear slips down his cheek.
“Please. You’re all I want.”
“Minghao…”
You’ve said his name before. Yet this is different. Heavier, without the hate.
You watch each other. Eyes on his. His eyes on yours.
He takes a deep shuddering breath. Breathes in until his lungs ache. Tries to smile. It feels broken, it is.
He doesn’t watch anymore. Doesn’t linger.
“Minghao, I’m sorry. I… Wait.”
Takes a half a heartbeat before he’s gone.
—
He meets his soulmate.
It doesn’t feel like it should.
The name etched onto his body, carved into his heart, feels like a word more than a name.
Their eyes meet. Minghao knows.
They tell him their name, bright-eyed. Hopeful, happy.
Minghao braces himself. He knows what to say, knew from the moment he laid eyes on you.
The bright-eyed stare turns to anger.
They tell him, but we’re meant for each other, this isn’t supposed to happen, we’re soulmates.
They don’t want to meet again. Minghao thinks it’s for the best.
—
With an ache in his chest.
Watches you again, tries to catch your eyes. In waiting, he lingers.
Watches you lean close to Jeonghan, watches his hand on your arm, knead through the layers. Your eyes dampen, you pretend Minghao isn’t there.
Minghao learns to watches you both.
Realizes you and Jeonghan are made for each other.
Fitting together like puzzle pieces – watches you both, lingers behind you both.
(Yet, he doesn’t see the way you pull away from Jeonghan, just to stand a little closer to Minghao. Doesn’t see your face heat up when his eyes leave –)
—
“It’s easy to hate you.”
Minghao half-turns. Finds you.
Fingers curled together, wrapped around the handle of your very red umbrella. Bone-white, beneath the sleeve of your coat.
Your eyes are damp. Jeonghan comes, hand touches your shoulder.
“See you later, and you too, Minghao!”
He watches, he lingers.
Watches Jeonghan leave, gaze hardening at your blank stare, he whispers something. Low, beneath his breath, breathes it into your hair. Then gone, out of the staff room.
(“It’ll be okay.”)
“Is it alright if I walk you home?”
He bites down on his lip.
Eyes on your face. Flickering.
Your face sets aflame, a flash turning your eyes to hesitation. Hooking his, seeing him.
“Or– or not, it’s okay, I–”
“Okay.”
He sees you smile for the first time. Soft on your cheeks, dusted with a heat.
Your soul pulls his in.
—
You walk beneath a very red umbrella.
Pressed close. Closer than ever. Beneath an umbrella, under rainfall. Your fingers curled around the handle, both holding on tight.
Minghao stares at you, through lashes. From the corner of his eye.
Realizes he’s always watching you.
“I don’t know much about you,”
You say, a low whisper, for him to hear only.
“You don’t like me that much.”
Your brows furrow, tight-lipped, you tell him again, “It’s easy to hate you.”
It makes him laugh, hollowed out. From his chest, high-pitched and kind of shy. You look at him, cheeks heating, smiling.
(You press more firmly against him, unknowing. Subconsciously. His heart beside yours, a hundred aches in both of them – choosing, a slow truth beneath a red umbrella).
“Well… Tell me something, something that will make me like you!”
Your soul pulls his.
He tells you everything about himself.
—
“Minghao?” Soft, a breath.
He hums, looks to you.
“Can we do… Can we do this again?”
His chest spreads fire across. Heart drums, “Yes.”
—
You walk him home every other day, sometimes with a red umbrella and sometimes not.
You stand close, and your heart is so full – Minghao watches, a lingering stare. His heart is overflowing.
(You stay close, and he wonders if the name on his chest could change to yours).
—
He walks you home this time.
Maybe once, maybe more times than he can count.
Kisses you, and you melt together. Mouths melting together like hot honey, oozing slow, hot and heavy down your throats. Your hearts pulled together, the same way yours hands knot, fingers tightening. Pressing into your knuckles, bone-white and fitting together like pieces to a puzzle.
When you pull away, Minghao’s breath brushes over your cheeks. Forehead rolling to the side of your head, on your temple. Kisses your cheek, quick. Fleeting.
“I’m scared,” You say through teeth.
He doesn’t realize you’re upset, not until you look at him through glossed eyes.
Minghao presses more into you. Hands leaving yours, ground gently into your cheeks, “I choose you.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and stutters out. Nodding against his forehead when you place your hands over his, fingertips soft, smoothing over the joints in his.
“I’ll always choose you.”
Your hearts stay together. He hopes forever.
—
The name etched onto his body, carved into his skin – atop his breastbone, above his heart fades. Seeps into his skin, until it’s gone.
He pretends your name was always there, pretends it is there.
(It is, carved into his heart, searing, a burning that lasts forever).
+bonus: posters w/o the gradient map just for tumblr bc why not :> also lmk which one u guys prefer bc im very torn idk i love them all hehe [ as always, handle is my twitter !]
on this day, a musical genius was born, wooahae to u
+ also made 2 other versions bc i initially wanted to use a monochromatic color so here’s some blue and orange versions yay (also wanted it to look like it was printed but tbh idt it looks like it lmao)
