#// gonna be deadly honest: i actually hadn't cried at all this morning until i went back through the texts

[nam-daeeun]

self-para  \  butterfly effect. where: rhee’s bar and grill. when: shortly after this plot drop. mentioned: @brxxksazars & @sita-abbrams trigger warnings: murder, death, mentions of police, and sad dae-eun.

the conclusion is that love is pain, a game that can never be stopped but still, why do i repeatedly scream mayday?

It was just a cup of coffee.

A single act of kindness, one that he hadn't really expected much to come from. He had some extra money, so why not help out? The jokes had caught him off guard, their rapport building quickly. He was sure there was more to the other man than met the eye, but he seemed content to keep the friendship light, so Dae didn't want to pry. The regrets were swinging in full force now, and he swallowed hard. If they'd talked more, if they'd only—

He broke off, shaking his head to try and rid himself of the line of thought. If's wouldn't help anyone right now.

DAE-EUN: just stay safe, don’t want to see you on the news someday. BROOKS: no news for you either DAE-EUN: i promise. BROOKS: holding you to that just so you know BROOKS: sorry you’re stuck with me DAE-EUN: same to you, elsa. sisterly bond or something. so i’ve heard, at least DAE-EUN: stuck like fucking glue

Dae bit his lip, trying to hold back the waterworks that threatened to spill out at a moment's notice. His phone screen was blurry through the unshed tears, but he could still read the words. Just barely, but it was enough.

After the snowstorm and the attack on Jake, he'd felt some sort of bond between the two of them. If nothing else, a pact sealed by stupid jokes and a fierce promise: don't you die on me.

It seemed the promise had never been intended to be kept.

DAE-EUN: there’s something going on here. i just have to figure it out.

Once again, he was useless. Regulated to the sidelines, unable to do anything as the town died in front of him, both in presence and spirit. The longer this went on, the less smiles he saw around him. But not Brooks. Somehow, he kept being his goofy self—Dae still wasn't sure how. Even he didn't have the strength to do that.

Dae hadn't had many friends throughout his life, and even fewer that would've considered him one. So the pleasant surprise of someone not only initiating that step, but continuing to keep it going—it baffled him. Brooks was one of the few people after his move to Nightrest that he truly would have called a friend. And now, he was gone.

He hadn't noticed when everything had happened. Dae had stepped out, looking for a breath of fresh air—Hana's restaurant was thick with people, and they were getting to be too much. Moments after the door shut behind him, he could hear a cheer from inside: the second game was over. 

He stayed outside in the night air for a bit, letting his mind run aimlessly until someone screamed from inside. He wished he could say the scene awaiting him was a surprise, but when he realized that he knew the voice, his heart only sank deeper as he raced back inside the restaurant.

From there on out, the rest of the night was a blur. Dae couldn't concentrate on anything, words slipping in and out of focus. He could barely keep himself afloat long enough to answer the police's questioning. He couldn't get the images of the body bags out of his head. Knowing that behind the thick fabric lay people he knew—knew, he catches the tense change—was beyond unsettling, his stomach twisting every time they passed by. 

Sita.

God, Sita.

Why did this seem to happen to him every time he managed to be happy? It had happened with Selin, and it happened again with Sita. Perhaps this just wasn't the thing for him. 

Dae wanted nothing more than to block the past night out of his head—and maybe someday he could. But that night was not tonight, and his hands shook as he numbly stumbled out the door of the restaurant. He couldn’t even look at his car without pangs of regret washing over him. They’d been there not even three hours earlier.

DAE-EUN: i’m afraid someone just won’t answer. SITA: Don’t say that! SITA: I don’t know how much more death I can take, honestly. DAE-EUN: honestly? me either.

Slowly, he moved towards the car, unlocking the doors and pulling it shut behind him, but he didn’t drive off. Instead, he just sat, staring at the steering wheel. He’d always felt a level of honesty with Sita, one he didn’t feel with many others; she was easy to confide in. A snippet of their previous conversation came tugging back to him, both of them mentioning how they’d never really dealt with death before, uneasy on how to deal with all of this grief.

He supposed he’d have to figure it out on his own from now on.

Memories kept flashing before his eyes: the two of them having a quiet heart-to-heart at a table at C’s, heading out (against his safer instincts) during the fires to scour the scenes, the kiss they’d shared at her house just that night. All of it, gone, just like that—ripped away in minutes.

Not completely, of course—the memories remained, but that was all he’d ever have.

He was getting sick of relying on those alone.

DAE-EUN: if you’re leaving, PLEASE be careful. i have this feeling that something bad is happening.

He took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together enough just to get home—get home, then you can fall apart. Slowly, so slowly, the car drove off into the night.