When Taeyong showed up at your window, you knew what was happening. Just an inkling, not even the full thing, but you had a good guess.

You let him in, not saying a word. The silence weighed down on the two of you as he climbed into your room, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking around. You followed his eyes to a frame sitting atop your desk, of the two of you. You were seventeen in that photograph, which was ironic. You had fallen in love with the man that stood in front of you when you were seventeen.

Perhaps you were selfish as well, because you could see what was coming, and somewhere in the back of your mind you had always known, yet you kept him. Love was selfish.

He let out a deep breath, facing you properly, brown eyes meeting your own. You couldn't help but notice the remorse in them, he didn't even have to say anything, you already knew he was silently apologizing.

"It's okay," you said, "It's okay."
"You deserve to know," he said, sucking in a breath, "And-"

It's too much for you, and you can't bear to hear it coming from him, so you interrupted him.

"Do you love me?"

Just four words, but that question was heavy. It was an effort just to say it, to get it out into reality. He bit down on his lower lip and you had your answer, but you waited for him to confirm it.

"I think I fell in love with the idea of you."

And you're confused, but you nod slowly, allowing him to continue. It's already becoming hard, you could feel your throat constrict on itself. You fisted your fingers, digging your nails into your skin in an attempt to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts.

"I think I loved you at one point," he said, "and I do love, just.." he trailed off and you sighed, forcing yourself to speak through your hurt. "Not like I love you?"

Your voice broke towards the end, your throat felt scratchy and it was getting hard to speak. It hurt, much more than you thought it ever could, especially when he gave you a soft nod confirming your suspicions. It was like someone was prodding at your heart with a rod.

So this was what heartbreak felt like.

It was worse because you had had him at one point, he was yours even for a little. But was he ever really yours? You didn't know. It was painful because there had been a chance, you had almost had him, only for it to all slip through your fingers.

Maybe it would've been better for it to never happen, if you had just stayed within your role as a best friend. If you hadn't let the lines blur between them. You could live with loving him quietly, you had until now, didn't you? You could stay as the best friend, you could watch him fall in love with someone else.

But now, you don't know if you can, because you were living in blissful ignorance before. Now you knew what it felt like, to be loved by him. And you'd do it again and again, but at the same time, you didn't want to do it at all. You wished you could turn back time and erase all of this. You wished you could forget.

It was reckless of you, and you realized in that moment that best friends aren't supposed to be lovers. You're too similar, you know too much about each other.

"I love you," your voice comes out broken but full of emotion. Choked, pent up, heartbroken. It feels as if someone had taken your heart and walked right over it, leaving it alone. The world hated you, you were sure, to make you fall in love with someone you couldn't have.

"I love you too," he said, equally as broken, but it was empty. It was like he was trying, but failing and you were waiting for someone who had given up.

You wished you could keep him anyways, and call him yours. You wished he could fall in love with you again and again and again. You wished you could know that it would work, and that this beautiful man in front of you felt the same way you did.

You can't force the stars to align when they've already died.

And then you're crying and you don't know why. Being heartsick hurt so bad, it was a dull ache at one moment, and then a piercing pain. Taeyong walked over, pulling you into his arms, muttering apologies over and over but you don't hear them.

You're in his arms once again, but you're crying, crying for him, because you can't explain the way it hurt now that you knew it was over. It was so brief, but it was gone. You were mourning a lover you never had, a love you lost, but could really call it yours in the first place?

Somewhere, in the wistful, stupid, idiotic part of your mind, you wonder if somewhre down the line he'd be yours again. If somehow the two of you found your way back to each other, like a fairy tale.

But your fairy tale had ended before it could even properly begin. You had fallen in love with the wrong prince, and no true love's kiss could help because it wasn't true love. As much as you hated it, you had to accept that.

See, the real world wasn;t perfect, there weren't any fairy godmothers, or dwarfs to help you. There were no enchanted spinning wheels and talking mice. The real world was harsh.

It's both of your faults, you know. He led you on and you let yourself follow. You didn't see the signs and kept him anyway. The both of you are caught red handed, but really only you've been hurt properly. He never really loved you.

Could you go back to what you were before all of this?

It felt like he was miles away, even though you were in his arms. You had lost him, he was gone and there was nothing you could do about it. You feel so stupid, because you had known it would end like this and yet you let it happen.

"I should go," he whispered, taking a step away from you. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but nodded, trying to wipe your tears away. He hesitated, before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for one last kiss. It was salty from your tears, but it hurt even more. This was the end, you knew.

You knew that if given the chance, you'd go straight back to him. Your heart lied with him and him alone, and even though it fucking hurt, you'd let him beak your heart again, no matter how stupid it sounded.

And then he left, and you were alone. Just a window away, but miles apart.