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He found relief in words. There was a comfort in tucking himself away in the corner of his room with a good book, undisturbed by the world. He would turn page after page, eyes skimming unrelenting, sweeping him away into a plethora of worlds, so unlike his own. It was easy; the reality of his disability less obvious.
Seung-Gil had been mute for as long as he could remember, some fault in his vocal chords preventing him from speaking. For the most part he didn’t think much of it. He had a stable job, programming software for a company, and a nice little flat tucked away between the aged brick buildings in the older part of the city. It provided him with silence, where the rest of the world was a constant pain to his sensitive hearing.
In many ways, his existence was a simple one. Wake up in the morning, go to work, finish his workload for the day and settle down with a book.
His bookshelves took up most of the space in the little flat. It was a quaint space, the outer door leading into a open area with a combined kitchen and living room. Two doors led off into a small bathroom and his bedroom. He had taken great care when furnishing the place, incorporating the bookshelves into every piece of furniture to create his small personal library. For all it was a slightly messy sight, it was his sanctuary.
It was a rainy day in June when his ordinary way of living was suddenly abrupted. It was also the day he committed his first theft of a book and experienced first hand why humanity had invented shoes.
The rainfall came down on the little city in buckets, water choking the storm drains and creating puddles perfect for eager rubber boots to play in. The cars wiped furiously at their windshields, plastic rubbing at the glass with rhythmic chafing noises.
The sounds crowded Seung-Gil’s ears as he rushed down the slippery sidewalks. He had been enduring a stressing day at work, body feeling like a sinking stone slowly disappearing through a pool of quicksand. Except the reality was much wetter.
A doorbell chimed as he dragged his soaked figure through the doorway of the local bookshop, causing the cockatoo sitting on the desk to caw mockingly. Seung-Gil held his hand up in a rude gesture at the bird, ignoring it as he dumped his wet shoes by the door. His socks were equally drenched, but he didn’t feel like discarding them as well. The bird made another string of noises, attracting attention from the worker in the backroom behind the counter.
Today, it was Guang-Hong. Small, shy, with a small myriad of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Most importantly however, he knew how to sign. Guang-Hong smiled brightly at Seung-Gil as he made his way up to the counter, not commenting on the water dripping of the older’s clothes and onto the floor.
“Seung-Gil! It’s been a while,” said Guang-Hong, heaving a stack of books onto the desk to apply price tag stickers. Seung-Gil nodded, his fingers moving rapidly to ask the question that had been lingering on his mind the entire day. Are the books in stock yet?
“Hold on.” Guang-Hong bit his lips, moving over to the little computer by the cash register. The annoying bird started to caw again as Guang-Hong’s fingers fled across the keyboard. The tip of his tongue was stuck out of his mouth, adding to the general cuteness of the boy. He was wearing a faded t-shirt with a quote from one of his favourite book written in swirling pink letters. Objectively speaking, Seung-Gil could see why Leo liked him.
“Hmm, the shipment doesn’t appear to be arriving before later today. You’re free to wait here though if you’d like. It shouldn’t be too long.”
Seung-Gil nodded, discarding his wet jacket along with his shoes before venturing deeper into the little shop.
The place was well known to him, explored even more thorough than his favourite volume of the Almavivo trilogy. The shop was even older than his flat, having been established by his childhood friend Leo’s father back in the day. He had spent many hours there as a young boy after his parents realised there was nothing they could do about his condition. Since then, the shop hadn’t changed much. Apart from taking several more modern books into their assortment (Leo’s doing in an attempt to “cater to the young”), the solid wood shelves still brought out that sense of wonder Seung-Gil had experienced as a child.
Right now, only a few others where browsing thoughtfully through the sections, none of them taking any notice of him. Good .
Absentmindedly, he let his fingers trail over the spines of the newer books. He glanced around himself, ensuring he was the only person in the section before pulling a volume out. Emblasoned on the front page in bold letter was the title “Terra incognita” by P. Chulanont.
The thrilling fantasy novel was one of his favourites, very unlike the kind of books he usually read, but somehow, the playful way the writer shaped the words had captured his heart from page one. It was witty, fast paced and energetic, a stark contrast to the calm controlled person Seung-Gil portrayed. It was a story to get lost in; a place where even the likes of him had a voice and the world felt less jarring.
Opening the book with a fond smile, he let his eyes skim over the first sentences. He could vaguely hear the sound of the doorbell, and Guang-Hong greeting whoever had just entered. It was easy enough to block out, his eyes entirely focused on the words on the page.
He let his feet take him to the little sitting area, which consisted of two chairs and a bean bag. It had been installed when Seung-Gil was six, a gift to him from Leo’s father. By now a second home to him. He let the world fade away, ignoring the presence of the other costumers and the shrill shrieks of the cockatoo.
He had almost read his way through the first chapter when he became aware of someone watching him. Lowering his book, Seung-Gil looked up.
The man in front of him was of shorter stature, hair the colour of coal and eyes lined with pinpoint precision. He was bent slightly forward, curious grey eyes trying to get a look at Seung-Gil’s book, as if he was interested in buying it. Even if that was the case it would be ridiculous considering that the shelves were not lacking.
It was evident that the man was not out after buying the book. As evident as the picture on page 378, depicting the author grinning at the camera. Seung-Gil shut the book with a snap.
“Oh did I disturb you? I couldn’t help but notice you. It is rare to see someone so into a book nowadays. Do you enjoy it so far?”
The voice was softer than Seung-Gil had anticipated, warm and sweet like honey dissolving in tea on a cold day. If Seung-Gil’s throat had been able to form words, he would have been struggling with finding them. He let himself imagine a world where he would sputter awkwardly, before stuttering out a response. Instead, he did the only thing he could do and stared dumbstruck at the man, his fingers clutching the book tightly. The man took a minuscule step back, looking sheepish.
“Ah, sorry. It was rude of me to intrude. If you’d like, I’ll make it up to you? There is a coffee shop down the road that sells really good hot chocolate. It is to die for. I’ll treat you to one? Only if you want of course. Eh, are you okay? Forgive me I’m blabbering again-”
Seung-Gil rose, making the man jump in surprise, then made a beeline for the door, his face burning.
It wasn’t before he was halfway to his flat that he realised he was still clutching the book. Also, he was lacking both his jacket and his shoes. The water drained into his socks pricking his feet like frozen needles.
None of these things really registered like they should, the intricate coding of his brain seemingly infected by some bug. After all, it isn’t every day you walk out on your favourite writer.
He put on a stone face as he entered the bookshop the next day, refusing to letting his embarrassment show. Wordlessly, he placed the book on the desk, letting his eyes meet those of the shop owner.
Leo had his arms crossed over his chest, brown eyes stern but fond. They were the supporting block of Seung-Gil’s childhood. They were also the only ones who could call him out when he was acting rude or who could console him when he was feeling down. Today felt like a fine mix between the two.
“I heard it from Guang-Hong yesterday, but I’d love to get an explanation from you too.”
Seung-Gil huffed, shoving insistently at the book. A quiet plea for Leo to drop it.
Leo had been the one to introduce him to the books. Normally, Seung-Gil preferred science fiction, and had initially refused to read the books. The smugness to Leo’s smile made it obvious that his childhood friend knew exactly what had happened the previous day.
He ducked behind the counter and retrieved a bundle of now dry clothes, handing them over to Seung-Gil.
“You know, I never did tell you that I went to school with him. I guess he got tired of the big cities.”
Seung-Gil snorted, accepting the clothes. The cockatoo made a noise to draw attention, making Leo send it a stern glare.
“I think you charmed him. He’s holding a book signing next weekend. Personally asked if I could pass on the message.”
Leo sighted as Seung-Gil made a constipated expression. Book signings would mean crowds, and crowds equalled noise. Not to mention he had just panicked and run in the face of his greatest idol. It did not seem very tempting.
“He could be good for you you know? I know he’s a bit abrasive, and you’re not used to that, but consider it. I worry for you whenever I’m not around. I just… I wish there was more people for you to trust.”
The jacket felt like a heavy burden as Seung-Gil slipped his hands into the sleeves. His eyes met Leo’s, a wordless conversation passing between them. This was familiar. This was comfortable. It had always been the two of them and the bookshop; the sweet musty smell of old books and dust. It had been them sprawling on the floor enjoying each other’s company while they read, the old bird squawking in the background while Leo’s father talked to it in hushed tones. He had never anticipated for that to change.
“Hold on to a signed copy for me?”
A flicker of defeat painted Leo’s features for a moment before he nodded. “Of course I will.”
It started to rain again, and it kept raining. Seung-Gil made sure to wear shoes and not leave them. He did not visit the bookshop again, perfectly fine with waiting until any chance of encountering Chulanont again was over. Work continued like usual, his boss a real nuisance. When he got home, he pulled out a book on ancient civilisations, not in the mood for fiction.
On the friday that week, he went to the coffee shop down the road from the bookshop. The atmosphere was warm, if not a bit too noisy. The hot chocolate it turned out, really was to die for.
On saturday, he did not set his alarm, nor did he answer when Leo texted him. Instead, he contented himself with staying in bed, gazing up at the maps pinned to the roof.
His parents had loved to travel, something which ceased when he came into being. Being a child who shied away from people and any loud noises, busy airports and crowded tourist spots weren’t good places to bring him. Instead, they had told him stories, and he had listened.
Now, a series of postcards accompanied the maps. It was a small pleasure, indulging for a moment in what he wouldn’t let himself have.
His thoughts wandered to Chulanont. Would things be different if he could reply at his advances with a snarky remark? Would a Seung-Gil with a voice be witty and charismatic, or would he still be himself? Analytical, calm and introverted.
He slumped back on the bed. He rarely allowed himself to feel sad because of his situation. It was an integral part of his identity. However, as he looked at the colourful books neatly placed on his shelves, he could feel himself wanting.
Wanting a new chance. Different circumstances.
He pulled the blanket over his head and lay in the numbing darkness until sun had gone down.
When he pulled on his shoes, the rain had finally stopped. Grey clouds were still taking up most of the sky, but every now and then, a speck of pale blue would peek through the dense layer. He set himself a relaxed pace, and headed for Leo’s store.
The cockatoo was sleeping when he came in, probably getting a bit weary in its old age. According to Leo it had been acquired by his grandfather. The lack of customers and eager cawing made the place feel oddly deserted. Dust drifted through the airs, illuminated by the pale light filtering through the blinds covering the windows.
Neither Leo nor Guang-Hong was in sight.
A single copy of “Terra incognita” was lying on the counter. Seung-Gil picked it up, opening it on the first page. Written in black marker, was a short message: “ For Seung-Gil, do you believe in love at first sight?” Phichit Chulanont .”
“I’m sorry about the other day.”
Seung-Gil spun around, nearly dropping the book. Leaning against one of the shelves was Phichit, wearing a sheepish expression.
“I didn’t know you were mute. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I just thought you looked really enthralling where you were sitting and- What I mean to say is. Could we start anew?” Phichit stretched out his hand, eyes hopeful. Seung-Gil put the book down slowly, trying to calm his racing heart, cursing Leo in the back of his head for allowing this to happen. He didn’t know how to act. What if he scared Phichit away?
The handshake was fleeting, a light touch of hands gripping each other in one second then separate again in the next.
“I guess I never introduced myself. I’m Phichit. I wrote these books, but you probably already know.”
“ I’m Seung-Gil. ”
“Is that sign language for Seung-Gil? I’m sorry, I don’t know how to interpret that.” Phichit’s voice was slightly wistful. “We can communicate like this for now?”
Seung-Gil let Phichit hand him a notebook and a pen. He thought for a while, before scribbling something down.
“ The hot chocolate really was to die for .” Then he handed it back to Phichit. The other man’s face looked confused for a split second, then it blossomed into a smile.
“Yeah, I told you didn’t I?” Phichit hesitated, then handed the notebook back. “You’re still free to refuse if you want to, but I’m going to offer anyway. You still up for going there together?”
This time, Seung-Gil didn’t run.
-Three months later -
The lazy midday sun made the thin curtains look like they were set ablaze, bathing the room in a soft orange hue. The harsh shadows created by the many bookshelves crept across the floor, creating an abstract pattern on the wooden floor.
Seung-Gil let his eyes trace it sleppily, sighing contently as he sunk further down into the couch. On top of him, Phichit made a soft noise, putting down the book he had been reading aloud.
“You’re falling asleep on me,” he accused. Seung-Gil lifted his hands out from where it was squished underneath them, signing a rapid sequence. He could nearly feel Phichit ooze of concentration, trying to catch the delicate hand movements. “One more time, a bit slower?”
“ Not falling asleep, just falling.”
Phichit made that soft noise again, as if air had gotten stuck in his throat, robbed for word for just a second, just like Seung-Gil. It was quickly becoming one of Seung-Gil’s favourite noises, in addition to listening to Phichit reading.
“You’re a sap, you know that?”
“ Continue?”
Phichit sighed happily, then found his page again, his voice carrying through the room like water soothingly running over rocks.
On Leo’s desk, there was a post-it note with a single phrase on it. Thank you.