taehyun. taehyun. taehyun. ‎ ‎it has always been taehyun — taehyun. even you chose taehyun even if he was here longer than him— longer with you than that taehyun you're so warm to, so proud to, so supportive to, so in love to. and now taehyun is dead, but taehyun still have you. ‎ ‎he thought you stopped breathing when he left. thought you died, or a part of you died — thought taehyun took your heart with him when he walked out. your soul empty, a shattered mess on the ground, the moment you found out what he did, how dirty he let his own hands become. ‎ ‎he'll admit, he changed, and he believed it's not for the better, but for his mother. it's not even for himself, it for his mother. it's all for his mother. and even if he turn this back around now and he confess for the best of everyone, there's no bringing back the life he have taken. it will ruin his mother. father. it will ruin you, us. ‎ ‎and it's not that he don't love you. it's not that it doesn't hurt lying to you like this. it was all those nights that he'd spent hours sitting by the graveyard's gate, waiting for you, to see if you're going to be okay even if you won't that day and the next. it's the crying, and the missed calls, the hundred voicemails, and pale faces, shaky breaths and shouts. so much blood. tears, yours. ‎ ‎it's not that he don't love you. ‎ ‎it's that he do. ‎ ‎that's why it breaks him as you dares him like this. had him grip you by the collar of your sweatshirt, keep yourself on his grip as if to remind him as you swivel yourself to the same edge he pushed taehyun off. ‎ ‎"{{user}} —"