It took Sun Fang two hours of pacing after breakfast the next morning for him to gather enough courage to press confirm when his phone asked him if he really wanted to call Mianmian. A setting he’d enabled himself, it still left his fingers trembling as he walked back and forwards in the long hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoody.
He couldn’t bear to actually look at the screen while he waited for Mianmian to accept the call, so instead he sat curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around him, keeping him solidly trapped. Nervous energy was coursing through him, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears. He bit on his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth and with his tongue, eyebrows furrowed and eyes unfocused.
Finally, the screen beeped. Sun Fang’s head snapped up, and he saw Mianmian on the large screen.
Gulping, he curled his legs up closer to his chest.
”A’Fang?” Mianmian stared at him, his eyes kind and gentle and so cruelly familiar. He was a ghost of the past, a monument to what once was. But it couldn’t be again, and Sun Fang had been cruel to both of them, clinging on so tightly.
He licked his lips and forced out a, ”Hey.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
”Is something wrong?” Mianmian furrowed his eyebrows and stared at him with worry beginning to seep through his expression. He was still so beautiful, even though it’d been decades. Sun Fang could remember their first date vividly, could remember the butterflies in his stomach every time he and Mianmian made eye-contact. Everything had been so pure, so simple, so incredible. It had been… everything to him.
”I’ve talked with Deng Xi,” Sun Fang forced out after a long moment. He pulled the blanket higher up his chin and resisted the nigh on overwhelming urge to such his head. He saw Mianmian’s expression shutter, saw his eyes go cold and the grimace suddenly on his face. Saw him freeze, and sit achingly still on the other side of the screen.
Sun Fang cleared his throat. He pulled a hand out of the blanket and pushed it through his hair, pulling a little on the strands as he went. Taking a deep, rattling breath, he said, ”You’re married to my cousin, Martin.”
Mianmian bit on his own lip, his eyes starting to gather a soft sheen. ”I know,” he said, voice weak.
Sun Fang barked out a sharp laugh. ”Then what the fuck are we doing?!” He didn’t let Mianmian answer, bulldozing on now that he actually had words to say. He was afraid, too, that if he stopped speaking now, he’d just break down crying. So he continued, ”We’ve been over for decades. It was a mutual breakup, and it wasn’t the wrong choice. We couldn’t have worked out then, because of the Sun Family. And I don’t blame you for not waiting, for not trusting me to have a plan. I don’t blame you for finding love and joy and happiness with someone else.”
He took a deep breath, staring straight at Mianmian’s eyes. ”I don’t blame you. I know I held on too tightly, and I know I should have moved on years ago. I know I shouldn’t have tried so hard to keep hold of the past, just because it was the happiest period of my life. I know I loved you, and I know you loved me, and I know sometimes that’s not enough.”
”I still—”
”No.” Sun Fang held up a hand. He shook his head. ”I am tired, Martin. I am tired of clinging to the past, of feeling my heart bleed every time I look at you. I love you, but I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep doing this to each other.”
His chest was so heavy that he felt like he was suffocating, but he forced out, ”It’s time to move on.”
Mianmian face was heartbreaking, his tears shimmering in his eyes and his lip wobbling. Sun Fang wasn’t doing any better, his eyes stinging so harshly he wasn’t the least bit surprised when he felt something tip over the edge and slide down his cheek. He throat was dry and too wet at the same time, his nose stuffy. He felt flayed open, his insides bare for all to see and all the more painful for it.
Biting on his lip till he tasted blood, he said, voice a shattered mess, ”I only want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. And I refuse to be the reason you’re not—I refuse, Martin.” He looked Mianmian in the eyes again, and it wasn’t any easier to say, ”Don’t make me be the reason you’re not.”
His voice was strangely hoarse, he absentmindedly noted, waiting for Mianmian to say something back, for his reaction.
”You could never make me unhappy,” Mianmian finally said.
Sun Fang laughed painfully, ”But I can stop someone else from making you happy.”
Mianmian bit on his own lip, and the kohl around his eyes was starting to smudge. He looked unbearably sad, and the pressure in Sun Fang’s stomach was and chest and heart and liver and lungs and head and feet and hands and eyes and mouth—it was all too much. Everything was too much. He didn’t understand how he’d ever been stupid enough to think that he could have this conversation.
Mianmian put his head in his hands, a low moan and miserable moan leaving him, and the sight and sound and Mianmian struck Sun Fang’s heart like a dagger.
Fuck, it hurt.
It hurt so much.
Another tear slid over Sun Fang’s eyes and he took a shaky and loose breath, trying to not stop now, trying to not give up. But he felt so empty and hollow and scorched. What could he even say? What more words were left?
”I’m sorry,” said Sun Fang, stomach queasy and lips wobbling. He pressed a hand to his eyes and related, mumbling, ”I’m so sorry.”
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