con bravura acceso - twoset one shots

XXXVII. sonata no. 2 "obsession" by Eugene Ysaye

Eddy Chen helped a friend with a love letter but accidentally sent it to Brett Yang. The said love letter is signed by him because Eddy's friend "forgot" changed it.

warnings: expletives, fluff

Third Person POV

Jordon He knows what Eddy Chen feels towards Brett Yang. It wasn't really a secret, Brett and Eddy's relationship. Well, whatever mess or a relationship they really have.

It's really unclear what Brett feels for Eddy, even Jordon sees the fact that they're really in love with each other. As for Eddy, he's really certain that he's very much in love with Brett. He just can't tell Brett, but he feels that Brett loves him too. Even if Brett could stand waking up with strangers in his bedroom, in a flat that he shares with Eddy.

Jordon knows that he's the only one who can bring them together. He knows that both the men wouldn't do it themselves. So, he welcomes himself in Eddy's room and asks him for help. A love letter related problem. Eddy knows the story that Jordon gave him, why wouldn't he not know? It sounds like his relationship with Brett.

"Eddy, please, please help me?" Jordon said, giving his best pleading face.

"I don't easily give in but fine. As long as if I need a favor, you will do it for me, okay?" Eddy said, his tone a bit scared and annoyed at the same time.

"Awesome, man. It's just one letter. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!" Jordon said, happily getting up from Eddy's bed and hugging Eddy.

Eddy sighed and started his letter.

The pain just blooms and blooms but it never wilts.

They always ask about my muse. I don't have the heart to shout your name for the rooftops or even whisper it to the wind. It seems as though allowing your name to spill from my lips will take you away from me. I've never even had you in the first place.

I don't know how but no matter how much you hurt me, I still let you come back to my arms. I still let myself be your home when you got too lost. Always the savior and never been saved. I put on that front even if I could feel my chest constrict as the water levels rise. I'm drowning in you but I don't expect you rescue me.

I've learned to live with it. Even if I don't know why I'm still breathing fine. It's like an old habit, a thing that you've had for so long, something you can't remove from the system. Almost as if being suffocated by you has been a drug or nicotine. Love, you allow yourself to get addicted to the sensation of physicality so much, that you forgot how emotions are truly what love is all about.

Then again, what really is love?

It's just subjective and no matter how you look at it, you can only know it once you've felt it. Some people might not know it until they're lying down on their deathbeds, or bidding farewells to the ones who truly have loved them. Will you feel it when I leave you behind, no matter how much it hurts?

I know this isn't healthy anymore but I just can't seem to let you go. It's not easy. I want you to let me go, instead. It will be easier for me that way. They say if you love the person, let them go. Maybe it's why you're not allowing me to leave.

I try to get you off my mind, finding diversions to distract myself from the urgency of my need to be with you. I always think of composer's history, where they came from, where they died and why they composed the music. I try to spend every waking moment thinking of music, composers, their compositions and even their purposes just so I could remove your space in my brain. It seems as though that spot is left just for you.

I think of the first notes of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. How it starts is like a lovely build up. It almost sings or even grieves. It's like a cry of help or a melody sung by the love of your life. It depends on what you truly feel when you listen to it. Almost as if you could hear his pain while he was writing it even if it was dedicated to the love of his life.

I could try and spend years to look for the perfect words to picture you, but nothing would precisely capture you. Like the violin concerto, I could kiss you to the rhythm of the piece but I'm afraid that by the time it's done, our mouths will bleed. Blood isn't exactly the sweetest substance but I bet that kissing you would be. I don't really know, I've kissed you before. Never properly tasted you because it was usually another's taste on your lips or the taste of alcohol.

You never kiss me with the intent of sharing intimacy. You only kiss me when you have nothing to say or to apologize for slowly fucking up your life. You kiss me after you've kissed the latest victim. Your taste depends on how much you want to erase her existence and ignore the memories of her that's still within your reach. It seems stronger on the days when my longing for you is at a maximum.

I always think that I'm lucky enough to be a collection of the tastes you've piled up. I wonder if I stay on your lips the moment another presses their lips with yours. That's how you've grown up to be the heartbreaker that everyone knows. I always wanted to tell them that it's not your fault that you've been broken.

They never really thought of that. They always just go on and draw conclusions from what they have seen from you. It's not fair, but they treat you as if you were just a science experiment. They all thought that it's not painful for your end because you can leave as if it was nothing.

Just because you were the one who did, doesn't mean that it wasn't the most painful thing. You just wanted them to believe so. If it wasn't that treacherous then you wouldn't have to resort to the comfort of fucking. You could try to love me, but why would you want my love? Especially, when you've already had hers. It's like settling with copper when you've already got the gold. It's like picking the coal when you've got a diamond.

It's not like I'm also in the option. I'm just a familiar face you come to every single time that something doesn't come your way. Only because you know that it will when it comes to me. I'm weaker than toothpick when I'm in your hands. I'm more submissive than anyone else you've ever had.

You could leave me in every single lifetime a thousand times, and if still take you back every single time.

Sincerely yours,
Eddy Chen

Eddy was already crying by the time he finished the letter. He forgot to change the signature before giving it to Jordon. Jordon thought it was perfect because it will be given to Brett anyway. Of course, what Jordon was doing was wrong. Terribly so, but he can't see the two men living like that anymore because both of them deserve to be happy with each other.

He slips it under the door of Brett's room and left. Thanking Eddy for his efforts. Brett, on the other hand saw the letter on his bedroom floor. He picked it up and read it immediately. He felt weak and had to sit on the bed. He went to Eddy's bedroom, wiped his tears and Eddy's.

He hugged Eddy tight and Eddy held him back. No words were formed between them but they knew. They knew that their relationship with each other will change. For the better.