Chapter Text
It was a rainy autumn day when I first met you. I could hear the faint noise of raindrops thumping against the windows. It was dim in the house with no lights on and with all the clouds outside, hiding the sun.
The rough texture of the rope was itchy on my skin, around my neck; but I was too distracted to be bothered by it. I was looking at the kitchen but I wasn’t actually, I was looking at the ghosts floating. The ghost of me cooking, the ghost of me cleaning the house, the ghost of my smile. All were carved into the walls of the house now, mocking how I was standing on the chair; ready to become one with them. All were so old that I sometimes couldn't be sure that I hadn't imagined them. My legs were shaking and I could feel that my eyes were getting wet. I hated the fact that I was scared but at the same time I was afraid of not being afraid. The white marbles on the floor were constantly changing dimensions, I could sense them getting farther away from me and then disturbingly close. I sniffed and felt the fear consuming my internals; I looked back in my head, why was I afraid? What was even keeping me from kicking the chair, what was keeping me from not going to work the other day, not paying the rent, not letting my landlady find my body when she came to pick up the money? Why was I still standing, not swinging?
It was just a slight “Hello?” and a creek of the door before I saw your eyes go wide.
In just a matter of seconds, I heard your hasty footsteps across the room; you wrapped your arms around my body like you were trying to keep me from falling into an invisible void, your breath was hot in the chilly autumn morning; damp against my shirt. “Hey there buddy, take it easy.” You were out of breath but you sounded strangely calm despite that. “Get down.”
I didn’t know what to say, I was trying to breathe in the air which suddenly felt too foreign, trying to understand who you were, trying to figure out the situation. I wasn’t thinking about pushing you away and kicking the chair, maybe I really was afraid.
You took a deep breath, “Okay now, I will let you go and you will get your neck out of that rope, deal?”
Even though I didn’t respond other than my teary and surprised eyes glaring at you, you stepped back. I held the rope and set it aside. You held my hand to help me get down from the chair. Your skin was soft, I had thought, warm despite the wind outside.
You were looking right into my eyes but I couldn’t gather to courage to look back, you smelled like pine trees. I stared at your wet, black shoes and then my bare feet.
“Who are you?” I murmured, my throat was sour from not talking for so long, I had almost forgotten the sound of my voice. I wondered if you had heard me.
“I came for the roommate offer,” you said. You had taken a deep breath like you were relieved that I could manage to talk, although your voice still was concerned. You talked carefully like you were afraid that you could break something. “The one on the internet.”
I raised my head and finally managed to look into your eyes. I was startled for a second to meet the eyes of someone other than my coworkers, my boss or my landlady. They looked warm with concern, your eyelashes perpetually meeting your pink cheeks with your constant blinking. Your eyebrows were raised, your hair wet and sticking to your forehead were brushing against them. Your lips were parted with words ready to pour from them. “Kim Joonmyun?”
“Junmyeon,” You corrected.
“Right, sorry.”
“Mr. Sehun I suppose?”
I gulped and nodded; I didn’t know what to do. “Yeah.” I looked around the house to keep my eyes away from your gaze which made me feel uneasy. “I thought you were going to come to talk a week ago.” I tried to remember the e-mail you had sent me.
“Something came up. I sent you a mail saying that I would come in today.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t… I haven’t checked my account for a while now.”
You took a look at the rope still swinging from the ceiling, cutting the air from one way to the other. And then you looked back at me.
“Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?” I said, my voice cracking. I still wasn’t used to using it that much.
“Sure.”
“I’ll make coffee,” I had said even though I didn’t know if any of the cupboards in the kitchen had anything in them. I searched for the coffee package I remembered buying maybe ages ago, my hands sweeping the dust in the cupboards.
You looked around the kitchen as I was preparing the coffee, your hands were wondering on the counter, around the cupboards, your eyes analyzing the mere lightbulb swinging from the ceiling, the windows stained with the remains of raindrops.
I handed you the cup and noticed how long your fingers were, it felt so strange then, to have a new person to explore. I turned my gaze to my mug when you looked at me. It was hot between my fingers but I remember liking the stinging sensation, I hadn’t felt anything hot in my hands for god knows how many days.
I looked at the places your hands and your eyes had visited just minutes ago, the place looked like it hadn't hosted anyone for years. I never had neither the desire nor the energy to clean. “I’m sorry the house isn’t in its best state right now,” I tried to direct my gaze in any other way besides the chair and the noose. “but it’s a nice place.”
“It’s big enough for two people, that’s nice.”
“Yeah.” I had never thought that I would have a person by my side in this house, I had never thought of it as a place for two people. It had become a very hard thing for me to imagine someone besides me.
“How much is the rent?”
“$250 a month. I will pay one half, you will pay the other. I mean if you’d like to stay, of course. We can talk about the percentages if you want.”
“No, it’s okay.” You paused for a second, your gaze walked on the kitchen table to the walls, around the mug and then stopped on me. I could see that you were thinking of something, you were looking at me yet you were seeing beyond me. “How old are you?”
“21.”
“You’re young.”
“You don’t seem much older.”
“I’m 24.”
“Do you have a job?”
“I work part-time at a kindergarten cafeteria. I also have a band, not that we make much money.”
“You play an instrument?”
“The guitar. Also, I’m the vocalist.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah. You can come to listen to us some time. Where do you work?”
“At a coffee shop. Part-time.”
“They pay you enough for the rent?”
“The boss is nice.”
“I see.”
“Are you accepting the offer?”
“I can’t see why not.”
Now that I play everything over in my head, it sounds so rushed. We had both agreed to live together with someone who we had just met. I have this strange feeling that even then, I was attracted to you on the spot in a weird way like I knew I wasn't supposed to let you go.
You stared at me and I stared at the coffee mug for a couple of seconds, the noise of the raindrops were filling in for our voices.
“Mr. Sehun, about earlier—”
“It’s okay.”
“I mean—”
“Really. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
“But, Mr. Sehun—”
“Mr. Junmyeon, I beg you.” You later on told me that it had broken your heart so much, to hear those words from me with a desperate expression. You told me that my eyes looked so sad, sadder than anyone you had ever encountered. You told me that you wanted to help me so bad back then, even from the first second we met. You told me that when you heard my age, you felt something shatter inside of you.
It looked like you didn’t know if you should go on or not for a minute, then you closed your eyes to take a deep breath. “I should get my stuff in and settle I guess, then.”
“Oh yeah, sure, let me help you.” Words were tangling in my throat, I felt like someone was going to pinch me and I would wake up from that dream.
“And call me Junmyeon.”
“You can call me Sehun.”
You turned and smile, you had a smile that lit up your whole face; your lips curving into your cheeks and your eyes sparkling for a slight second. “Sehun,” You repeated to yourself. I liked the way my name sounded on your lips. You said it like it held new hopes like you were stepping on a new land waiting for you to explore it. “I like your name.”
No one had smiled to me like that for a long time. “Thanks.”
You walked for the door and paused the moment you opened it. I waited for you to come back inside until you had stood there for an awkward amount of time.
“Junmyeon, what’s wrong—”
“My suitcase is gone.”
“What?”
“It’s not here. Jesus, all of my things were in there.”
I looked over your shoulder at the empty doorway, “It’s not that thefts happen regularly here. Maybe has mistaken it for theirs. They’ll bring it back.”
You sighed and turned back, although you didn’t seem that displeased, even a little bemused. You looked like you liked the adventure.
“I can lend you some clothes.” I said, and you smiled.
“Can I say one last thing?” I knew it was about the way we met from your tone.
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked up at you. “For what?”
“For the fact that something has pushed you this far.”
I don’t know if you knew but that was the first time anyone had felt sorry for the state I was in. That was the first time anyone had ever apologized to me for what had happened to me. The first time anyone had noticed.
I lent you a t-shirt and shorts as pajamas and it was a little funny that none of us had managed to think that my clothes would be too big for you. You looked like you were dressed in your father’s clothes. Your hands were lost in the hems of the t-shirt and you continuously tripped on the cuffs of the pair of pants which were way too long for you.
For the rest of the day, you mostly wandered around the house except for the times we sat down until we ran out of coffee, trying to get to know each other better. Maybe you realized I wasn’t much of a talker because you kept talking and talking until it didn't feel weird to sit side by side with some stranger whom I was going to share my house with. You had so much passion in you, sparkles lit up in your eyes whenever you talked about something you liked and your hands were always fidgeting as your lips moved.
You walked towards the music set while we were taking our fifth coffee break of the day, going through the CDs I hadn’t touched for ages; you took one out and looked at me.
“You like Hyukoh?” Something lit up in your eyes again, I figured you liked them.
“I used to.”
“You used to?”
“I don’t listen to them all that much anymore. I don’t listen to music all that much.”
You smiled instead of pushing it further and slid the CD into the music set and as the melody to TOMBOY filled in the room, I felt something flutter inside of me. The first time I had listened to the song, the times I had cleaned the house listening to it ringing in my ears, the times I had sung along, the people I had listened to it with. And I felt tears form in my eyes, getting rid of them right before you turned your head to look at me with a smile on your lips.
“It’s a beautiful song, right?”
“Yeah.” I said, I was hardly keeping my voice from cracking. “It is.”
Mornings used to be the hardest part of the day for me, as the sun filled the room I always wondered if my day was going to end up like it had the day before. If anything was going to change. Having hope hurt me more than anything else could have. Though the next morning I woke up to a strange smell, it smelled like butter. Normally I wouldn’t even leave bed until it was time for work, I wouldn’t have any reason, I wouldn’t have any desire. My legs were sore as I stepped onto the wooden floor, my hair was a mess and it was troubling to even open my eyes. Maybe it was to find the desire to open my eyes which was hard.
I followed the smell which led me to the kitchen and saw you in front of the stove with an apron I didn’t know I had tied around your waist, a pan in your hand, murmuring song. I couldn't remember the last time this house had that much life in it.
I felt the same strangely warm feeling I had felt yesterday from your presence, it was foreign yet it was pleasing to have inside of me. It felt like drinking a cup of hot chocolate during the coldest day of winter, although I was starting to feel afraid to take the mug because I knew the warmness would leave me not long after. Or the heat would burn my hands.
I don’t know how long I had stood there and stared at you until you turned back and noticed me. “Good morning,” you said with a smile on your lips.
“Are you cooking?”
“Yeah. Do you like bacon and eggs? I couldn’t find anything else in your fridge.” I didn’t know how long it had been since the last time I had bought anything to eat.
I turned my head to check the living room and saw that the rope and the chair were gone like nothing had happened. It felt strangely empty. I looked back at you to watch you hum a song as you swirled the eggs on the pan, I wondered if you were like that to everyone or if you were trying to lift up my mood. I suddenly felt so small in front of you, I knew I wanted and needed to be protected, I knew how close I was to shattering apart and I knew how fragile I was. It still awakened a kind of anger in me to watch you try to snatch me away from all of that. Maybe I was afraid of being next to a person, I probably was, it was fear what had awakened inside of me, but at that time I still wasn't able to think anything straight. I still had that unbearable storm in my head and that vicious voice whispering in my ears. It never ended well when I thought for myself and I was always too tired to do so. I always gave into whatever was devouring me. “Are you pitying me?” I said, it came more of a hiss than a sentence. I hadn't meant to sound that angry, but it was too late to correct anything when you turned to me with a confused and kind of broken look on your face. I gulped when I saw your expression.
“What do you mean?” You said, how sincere you were made me regret my every word.
Yet I kept going because I didn't know how to behave around people, I was still angry at every single human being because I was angry at myself the most. I was angry because I was afraid. I was trapped in a cycle of fear and hate and I had no idea how to get myself out of it. “Why are you doing all this?”
“It’s not out of pity, why would you even think that?”
I looked at you blankly for a second, I kept trying to come up with a way to get this conversation on the right track. I couldn’t. “Do I look in need enough to receive care from some stranger?”
“I think I’m your flatmate.”
“I met you yesterday. I don’t need you worrying about me.”
“I just want to help.”
“Why?” My voice was getting louder and I wanted to strangle myself to get it lower, but once I got out of control I couldn’t get myself together. I was starting to remember why I had been alone in that flat for so long. Why I had been alone in my life for so long. “Because I look so desperate? Because you think you understood what happened yesterday? Because you think you can suddenly make me better by some eggs?” I couldn’t deal with how hurt you looked, I had felt empty for so long that I couldn’t remember the last time I had hated myself for that much, I remember why I thought I deserved to be the one swinging from the end of that rope. “I don’t want your help.” I said, looking at the stove. “And I don’t need your eggs.”
The doorbell rang and I hadn’t felt so relieved in my life, I turned back and walked to the door. My landlady was waiting on the doorway, a little woman with white hair cascading down her shoulders. “Hello sweetie, I came to pick up the rent.”
“Yeah, I know Mrs. Choi, could you wait a second please,” I murmured as I walked towards the hallway to get the money.
“Hi,” I heard a soft voice coming from behind, you had come out of the kitchen with your apron stained with oil.
“Oh, hi,” Mrs. Choi had said cheerfully, do you remember how much she liked you? “Are you a friend of Sehun’s?”
“I’m his flatmate actually,” You had said, you didn’t sound hurt anymore; I wondered if you were hiding it or if you had gotten over it.
“Oh really? I’m Choi Sooyoung dear, your landlady.”
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Sooyoung,” You had held her hand. “And this month’s rent is on me so here you go,” You said and handed her the money you took out of your pocket.
“Thank you sweetheart, what’s your name again?”
“It’s Kim Junmyeon madame.”
“Kim Junmyeon, yes? That seems a little familiar…. Wait, is there any chance that you had a suitcase outside yesterday?”
Your eyes had lit up just like a child’s, you were bending over to make eye contact with her although I don’t think you noticed. “Yes, have you seen it anywhere?”
“Oh I took it to the lost&found thinking that somebody had lost it! I’m so sorry sweetie.”
You had suddenly grabbed her hand and started shaking it like crazy. “Oh my god thank you so much, Mrs. Choi! You saved me!”
Mrs. Choi had laughed, saying, “I should apologize for taking it without saying anything.”
Before you went downstairs to take your suitcase you had turned to me to say, “The plate is on the table, take your time.”
And I was grateful that you left before giving me the time to open my mouth because the words lining up against my lips were I don’t want your food.
I was desperate for something proper to eat but I didn’t even know if my stomach could handle it, I didn’t want to tell you that. I figured I looked miserable enough.
When you came back carrying the suitcase with an apparent joy, the plate was still waiting on the table, untouched.
“Oh god, I feel so relieved. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found it. I don’t think I could go to work with your clothes, everyone would mock me for ages. Mrs. Choi is such a sweet person! My old landlady was a total jackass. She always came asking for rent even before the decided date and get mad and shout at me if I didn’t have the money. Jesus, she was a bitch.” You were walking around the house in a speed I couldn’t follow, from your room to the bathroom, pacing between the kitchen and the living room as you brushed your teeth, taking your apron off as you combed your hair, I couldn’t do anything but to watch you move with the energy I had been lacking for so long.
“I’m leaving,” You said as you took a bacon from the plate and didn’t even stood still to chew it down, that’s when I noticed there was only one plate on the table. That’s when I felt even more horrible for saying all of those to you. “See you a couple of hours later!”
I was left alone in the house after the closing of the door. I went into the kitchen to see the single plate waiting on the table, a plate for me. I tried to let the fact that you had woken up just to make me breakfast and I had blamed you for doing so, sink in. My eyes were watering and I didn’t know if it was because I felt so guilty or so pitied or so strange that someone had showed me care.
Your voice was still echoing in my head and I couldn't get your broken face out of my sight. I had no idea how to deal with you from day one, Kim Junmyeon.