Chapter Text
"I love you up to the moon," said Little Nutbrown Hare.
"Oh, that's far," said Big Nutbrown Hare.
"That is very, very far." Big Nutbrown Hare settled Little Nutbrown Hare into his bed of leaves.
He leaned over and kissed him goodnight. Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile, "I love you to the moon and back.”
by Sam McBratney (Author) & Anita Jeram (Illustrator)
[unravel]
The letter came with a thick, pure white envelope.
It looked harmless and unimportant on the first glance—it was buried among the heaps of mails and catalogues and bills that need to be paid. Yet he knew right away: there was something inside Seongwoo’s chest when he saw it. Something like premonition; like fate, something unexplainable yet swirled wildly inside him and made a huge wreck on his mind. He took the letter; his fingers tingling as his heartbeats were loudly drummed against his ribcages.
The stamp and the postmark was awfully familiar. Seongwoo felt the tight sensation on his heart all over again; he gasped softly—released a breath that he didn’t realize that he was holding all these time.
You.
It’s you.
Seongwoo’s fingertips trembled as he traced the ink marks: the slightly cursive handwriting that wrote the recipient’s name and address, his current residence, which he never gave to the sender for thousands of reasons. He touched those ink strokes—those familiar and nostalgic strokes he know by heart—and he knew the sender of the letter right away. He knew from the beginning. He didn’t need to turned the envelope to see or read the name.
It’s you.
Shaken, Seongwoo slowly closed his mailbox. He went in through his front door, placed the rest of his mails on the coffee table before he sat on the loveseat. He stared at the letter on his hand, then sighed. Why? was the first thing echoed inside his mind. Why…? Some strokes of ink from you and all those memories rushed back to me. Barged in rudely like an uninvited guest, kidnapped me back to the past. Far, way back to the past: to the time when you were there with me, holding my hand tightly, with that wide smile on your face as you called my name in a gentle whisper.
The light envelope suddenly felt heavier all of the sudden.
Seongwoo took another deep breath. Another sigh. He gulped—his throat felt dry as he carefully made a long line of tear on the side of the envelope, then proceed to pulled out the yellowish textured parchment paper that had been folded into three equal parts.
I’m sorry, was the first sentences written on the top of the paper. It wasn’t a greetings or simple chit-chat like most people do when they penned their letter. Seongwoo’s breath hitched, yet he shifted his glance to the next sentence: You might be wondering why suddenly I wrote this letter for you. Maybe, you won’t even read this letter. I won’t be surprised if you teared it down into two, or shredded it into thousand pieces, or even burned this letter into a pile of ashes. I won’t be angry if you do: it was your right to do so, because you have the right to be mad at me.
But if you do open this letter, and reading these jumbled of nonsense I’ve written, I want to be a little hopeful. Seongwoo, we need to talk… and I hope that you have a little time for me. I wish that you won’t mind to spare a tiny bit of your precious hours for me—to meet and have a chat face to face, for once—even if it would be the last time ever for us.
Maybe, maybe this will be sounded like a stupid, foolish excuses—but I shouldn’t pick that stupid decision back then. Two years ago I asked us to broke up, I said that I love you too much yet I need to fulfil my deathly ill father’s wish to marry the girl of his choice. At that moment I cried and I begged you since I couldn’t say no to such a request; I said that I couldn’t see a future for us and it was all seemed bleak—I was wrong.
There wasn’t a single day that I lived without remembering you. I wanted to turn back the time, to put us back to the time when we were together: young and carefree. You were there with me, always by my side, without all these miserable, nonsensical yearning which tormented me so much.
You know, I’ve realized something: a fact about how foolish I had believed that I could manage to live without you. I couldn’t. I was totally wrong. I'm miserable without you. I need you the most in my life. I need you to be normal, to be happy, to be able to live my life. I knew that I sounded like a jerk, totally like an insensible egoist, but if you really don’t mind… can we meet to talk? I'm so sorry to bother you, but please... Please.
I’ll be there next week, on the Saturday evening at 3 PM, on our usual place.
-Daniel
His autography was scribbled on the end of the letter; still the same Danik with two rounded point below, acted like wheels on a skateboard-like linear stroke. Seongwoo caressed those wheels, his eyes dimmed as he was reminiscing the past. Daniel invented the autography during his freshman year, proudly presented it to Seongwoo, “Isn’t it the coolest ever?!” He asked with a grin, and Seongwoo nodded enthusiastically.
They weren’t in relationship at the moment: they were still trapped in a vague state between friendship and something that a little bit more than that. They met during college—Seongwoo was one semester ahead, but they shared a lot of liberal classes together. They clicked right away, practically joined on the hips as they were always spent their time together. Their circle of friends dubbed them as a pair nevertheless, and there were moments when Daniel possessively acted like Seongwoo was his—jealous whenever someone tried to flirt with the older male.
“You aren’t my boyfriend,” Seongwoo jokingly teased him one day, after another case of Daniel being jealous to the new barista flirted with Seongwoo. The younger male pouted, and Seongwoo found out that sulking Daniel was too cute to not be teased. There was a glint on the latter’s eyes, and Daniel laced his fingers onto Seongwoo’s—his thumb rubbed circles on Seongwoo’s skin.
“I’ll make you mine,” He said back then, and Seongwoo’s heart skipped a beat. He blushed like mad, “You’re joking, Niel-ah?”
But Daniel was serious. He started to pursue Seongwoo seriously after that, being a super irresistible gentleman with overflowing charms. It didn’t help that they were best friends before and Seongwoo’s actually hold this hidden crush towards the Busan man, so he cave in quickly. Their friends were screaming something like fuckin’ finally…! when they announced that they finally in a relationship.
Seongwoo is my true soulmate, Daniel stated back then, eyes crinckled into a crescent shape; disappearing into two thin lines as he smiled widely, We are truly made for each other.
“But you took those statement back, didn’t you Niel-ah?”
Present time, Seongwoo was putting back Daniel’s letter to the envelope. He sighed and closed his eyes, ruffled his own hair and hugged his throw pillow before he lied there on his back, halfway on the loveseat—eyes closed. He took another deep sigh, in hope that the action will ease the tightness inside his chest, laughed softly when he realized it was a vain attempt.
Seongwoo opened his eyes and stared on his ceiling; familiar, spotless, the gypsum was painted in alabaster white. His sights soon turned blurry. Tears escaped from the corner of his eyes, rolled down as gravity pulled them as it supposed to be; staining his cheeks with long, wet marks in the process.
You took those statement back, didn’t you Niel-ah.
[lingering]
It looked like a painting: something that will be found on most Bob Ross’s handiworks. Vast blue sky, decorated with cumulus and cirrus clouds on the edge, a thick layer of the first snow covered everything with pure white. The cedar and pine branches were heavy with powdery heaps of snow, several strands of the greenness peeked out underneath. An unfamiliar bird with brownish feather flied through the sky, filled the silence with a distant chirps.
It was beautiful, yet cold—and freezing. Another round of snow fell quietly, eerily peaceful, felt almost ominous. His little kitchen smelled like coffee and cinnamon—his freshly brewed beverage let out the thin, white steam as he poured it into his mug. He was wearing his favourite ivory white turtleneck sweater, the colour matched nicely with his khaki pants; a knit large shawl draped on his broad shoulders. It wasn’t enough to keep himself warm for the weather, but he opened the glass french door to the veranda and stepped outside.
Portafinestra. He took a sip of his coffee, his breath mixed together with the steam, created the puffs of thin evaporation trails that danced along with the wind. That’s what you told me, right Hyung? You said that the French Door was also called Portafinestra—you learned the Italian term somewhere from one of the books you read for the summer assignments.
There was a loud beep from inside: the answering machine signalled the incoming message from his lawyer after he ignored the call for quite a while. “Daniel-ssi,” The monotone voice called out his name, “I’ve faxed the newest divorce agreement to you this morning. Please read it immediately.”
He did. In fact, he was there when the documents poured out from the machine. His ex-wife wanted a larger sum of the alimony. His lawyer said that the demand was unnecessary since the previous sum was already more than enough, added to the fact that their marriage was childless—something really expected from two people spent a lot of their individual times alone during their two years marriage. They rarely spent their times together: they were merely two strangers trapped into a loveless marriage.
“You can totally rejected the demand. There wasn’t any child to be supported, and the sum she asked was quite ridiculous. She tried to break the pre-nup agremeents.”
Truthfully, Daniel didn’t really care about the alimony; his ex-wife could those money just as she wished. It could be his payment for two years of her miserable, unhappy life. He was the one turned the once young and cheerful girl into a bitter, resentful woman.
Why, Her tone was filled with anger and so much disappointment when he presented her the divorce paper, Why you do this to us, Daniel?
He wanted to reply. There were a lot of reasons. He got a really long list of them: that they weren’t happy together. That the marriage broke the two of them. That it felt more like an icy cages, a cruel prison, a heavy chain that burdened the two of them. That they wasn’t never in love with each other—Daniel’s heart was owned by someone else, and the fact remained till this day. His heart is Seongwoo’s, and it will always be that way. But it will only shattered her more, so he kept his reasons and muttered a faint I’m sorry instead.
It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Maybe. No one wished for such an ending: everyone was unhappy and every single of them got hurt. They were the result of a bad choice, a mistake, a miscalculation. Maybe, maybe it was his fault. It was his fault all along: it was his fault that he never told his parents the truth about his Seongwoo, it was his fault that he accepted his father’s dying wish, it was his fault to break up with the older male, it was his fault to hurt his ex-wife in the cruelest way possible: to be married to a guy that loved another. In the end, the strings of his bad choices lead to an ironic ending. Maybe, maybe he was the bad guy. He was the one to be blamed.
“I wonder if you could forgive me, Hyung…”
The snow kept falling: tiny specks of white, enveloped everything in lonely white. They said the first snow was the most beautiful. He was wondering if it was true when he sat on his desk two nights ago: poured his heart’s contents into woven words on a piece of paper, the first snow fell endlessly outside his window. He could simply call, or text, or emails—it was way faster and totally simpler, but he bid his time. He wrote the letter instead. He wasted a lot of papers before he settled for the latest one; the one he had revised over and over, yet still sounded pitiful and foolish.
Maybe, maybe… those words described him alright: foolish. He ran away from everything. Before he wrote the letter, Daniel spend most of his nights here on the villa by setting the projector; repeated their past moments against the white curtain hanged on the wall. The young him and the young Seongwoo, years ago: happy and carefree, recorded on the 35 mm film roll using the vintage videotape camera Seongwoo found on one particular summer’s garage sale. It was somewhat fractured, casted light leaks everywhere on the pictures—but they thought it gave a great effects so they kept it anyway.
Most of the day shots were ruined, so they opted for night shots for the majority of the time. He and Seongwoo went to town to buy snacks, fooling around, spending times on their dorm’s rooftop; the summer’s night was warm and clear. They spent hours lying side by side, gazed on the constellation for hours.
Look, that’s the Summer Triangle. Altair, Vega and Deneb. Just like those beautiful moles on your cheeks, Seongwoo-ya. Daniel pointed to the sky, laughed along with the older male. Seongwoo poked him on the waist, Stop it, you are so cheesy.
Tears rolled down as he stared on the screen; their old memories mocked him with the happiness, something that he let it slipped through his fingers. He was taking Seongwoo and their love as granted, and he had ruined it.
“I love you to the moon and back,” The young Seongwoo on the screen smiled as he quoted the famous line; eyes were bright and filled with affection. Daniel leaned in and pecked the older’s lips. He hummed back his reply: “To infinity and beyond. Forever and ever.”
It was their quotes.
Forever and ever.
Yet he was the one whom let go and tainted their forever.
[i love you to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond, forever and ever]
They used to have the quotes—something like August and Hazel said to each other on The Fault in Our Stars. No, they weren’t those simple one word okay, and absolutely not always. The whole thing started when Daniel ‘kidnapped’ Seongwoo from their dorm—it was after their mid semester exams and both of them were finally free. Daniel asked him for a simple coffee date, reminded him to wear layers and thick coat: “It was freezing outside.”
Their usual coffee spot was near and obviously warm—but Seongwoo obliged and dressed comfortably warm: layers and sweaters beneath his heat-tech jacket. Daniel picked him up on his door, smiled widely as if he was planning something mischievous. The younger put a long, fluffy cashmere scarf around his neck before he could ask why, “Just… follow me, Seongwoo-ya?” He dressed Ong’s fingers with a pair of thick soft gloves, then guided him downstairs to the parking lot.
“We are not going to the cafe, are we?” Seongwoo amusedly laughed as Daniel took Jisung’s pickup keys. The old blue pickup itself was belonged to the dorm; used to purchase or delivering stuffs like groceries or furnitures. As the current head of the dorm, it was Jisung’s responsibility to keep the keys. “You didn’t steal the keys, right Daniel? Just making sure.”
“You accused me of thievery?!” Daniel pretended to be offended for a solid seconds, then he laughed. “Nah, Jisung gave his permission. It was usually driven by me after all—Jisung didn’t have his license yet, remember?”
“Where are we going—?”
Instead of replying the question, Daniel opened the passenger’s door and guided Seongwoo in. He tucked the seatbelt and gave Seongwoo’s thick jacket a light pat, “You’ll see.” Seongwoo pretended to groan, animatedly dropped his head to the side. “You are keeping secrets from me?! Fine.”
Daniel laughed, climbed into the driver’s seat and closed the door. He turned the engine on before leveled the heater to the max. The old pickup’s heater was weak, so if you wanted a decent warmth in the middle of the winter, it need to be put on the MAX setting. Daniel placed a tiny portable bluetooth speaker on the dashboard, selected the playlist from his phone, and a blast of piano tunes filled the car as they hit the road.
♪ ♫ ♬ You know I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything
You see I feel sad when you're sad
I feel glad when you're glad
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile without you ♪ ♫ ♬
Barry Manilow’s baritone voice was somewhat melancholy despite the cheery trumpet and bass. Daniel tapped his fingers on the streering wheel, singing along the lyrics while his eyes were still fixed straight to their path. Between the two of them, Seongwoo was the better driver and he was the one whom usually accompanied Daniel on his driving practice before.
“You came along just like a song,” Seongwoo sang the next line, “And brighten my day.” A smile appeared on his face, remembering the first time they met. They were one semester apart, but Seongwoo was late to register the class because the schedule clashed with his other class. He came to the classroom without any expectation, half-yawning as he opened the swing door, because no decent college student will ever be excited for Calculus 101. He wanted to take a seat on the back, near the window so that he will have something to see whenever he was bored during the class.
Someone else sat there already: young and handsome, with soft pink pastel like cotton candy; busy writing something on a notebook. The boy bit his pencil with a unconsciously sinful way, before he then noticed Seongwoo’s presence. He raised his head and smiled: eyes crinkled, bunny teeth flashed, genuine and heart-melting. “Oh, hi there…!” His voice was low, somewhat deep, “My name is Kang Daniel. Is this seat yours—?”
“No,” Seongwoo replied a little too fast, “…but I do like that seat position. I came here early for that.”
“Oh,” Daniel pondered for a while, “Well, I’m alone on this class. My other fellows took the other class on Wednesday. I’ll move, but can we sit together? I barely know anyone on the class’s list.”
“Okay,” Seongwoo replied. Again, a little too fast. “You can have that seat.” He plopped his bag on the desk and sat beside Daniel. He finally took Daniel’s hand and introduced himself. “I’m Ong Seongwoo.”
“Ong—?”
It was a common occurance. Seongwoo laughed, “Yeah. Not Hong Seong Woo, it's Ong Seong Woo. Not Ung Seong Woo, it's Ong Seong Woo. Not Gong Seong Woo, it's Ong Seong Woo.”
“Ong Seongwoo,” Daniel gave him a nod, “Noted, I got it.”
Daniel still held his hand during the whole banter, and Seongwoo let him. There was something: a nudge, a beat, a hum of song inside his heart. “Please take a good care of me, okay Daniel?”
♪ ♫ ♬ Who would have believed that you where part of a dream
Now it all seems light years away ♪ ♫ ♬
Daniel did take a really good care of him. Most of the time, the younger male reminded Seongwoo about their class schedule, about their assignment, even picked up the older male from his dorm room when they got an early class. Daniel’s world seemed to be revolve around the older man—their circle of friends said that Daniel was somewhat Seongwoo’s giant guardian puppy. His attitudes resembled the fluffy four legged animal, and he was especially possessive whenever someone tried to flirt with Seongwoo.
Seongwoo never minded Daniel’s overwhelming affections—in fact he was somewhat smug about it. He enjoyed the attention given by the younger male. It was easy, being with Daniel—the whole thing felt natural and effortless: like it was the right thing to do, something that supposedly done that way, fated by the unseen force of universe’s grand design.
♪ ♫ ♬ And now you know I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything ♪ ♫ ♬
The road was slightly dark—the path didn’t installed enough street lamps to begin with. Daniel drove them to a more secluded place, where wild bushes grew wild and tall. It was a good idea to use the pickup truck, since the vehicle suited the rough terrain quite well.
“What are you thinking…?” Daniel asked in, out of the blue. Seongwoo blinked, unprepared. He wanted to joke around like he usually does, but there was a lump inside his throat. Choked, he confessed: “You,” followed with “And us.”
He was thinking about something Daniel said a few days ago, when they visited their usual coffee spot near the campus plaza. A new barista flirted with him when he ordered their coffee, and Daniel went absolutely green from jealousy. Daniel grumbled and barked to the barista Keep your filthy hands off, he’s mine in a possessive tone.
“You aren’t my boyfriend,” Seongwoo teased him when they sat side by side on their seats. “So I’m not yours, right Niel-ah?” He was joking when he said those words, expecting the younger male to blush and rambled, defended his previous action or making some excuses—but instead Daniel looked solemn. He took Seongwoo’s hand, thumb rubbed a circle pattern on the older male’s skin.
“I’ll make you mine,” He said; eyes stared straight onto Seongwoo. There was a solid determination on those orbs, and Seongwoo’s heart skipped a beat. He was the one ended up blushed like mad, “You’re joking, Niel-ah?”
The only reply he receive was Daniel’s mysterious smile.
♪ ♫ ♬ You see I feel sad when your sad
I feel glad when you're glad
If you only knew what I'm going through
I just can't smile ♪ ♫ ♬
Daniel brought him to a hill.
It was totally dark outside the window, and Seongwoo felt that a chainsaw murderer could possibly lurking behind those trees. There was the distinct owl’s hoots from the distance, faint and somewhat eerie.
“…Niel?”
“Come on,” Daniel smiled as he parked and turned off the engine. Seongwoo was reluctant for leaving the pickup’s warmth for a freezing, unfamiliar forest outside. He only could see tiny dots of lights from the horizon; Daniel brought him to the outskirts of the town, without any civilisation nearby.
“Where are we?” Seongwoo gaped as he raised one of his eyebrows, demanding answer. Real answer, not Daniel’s vague reply: “You’ll see, Hyung.” The younger unlocked the door, and he jumped out the car right away.
Seongwoo fixed his scarf and followed the younger male, “Niel, what—OH”
Daniel opened the greyish tarpaulin sheet from the pickups’s trunk; revealing a cozy set up of air matress covered with thick fluffy blankets, heaps of pillows, a picnic basket and several mini handheld portable heaters. Daniel set the portable heaters on their places, climbed up to the trunk and stretched out his hand to the awestruck Seongwoo, “Here, Hyung.”
Seongwoo took Daniel’s hand and climbed up; he sat on the matress, Daniel covered his legs with the thick, fluffly blankets before he took a beanie and covered Seongwoo’s head with the patterned wool article. It was warm, and super comfortable—the pillows supported him as Seongwoo lied on his back; thousands of stars sparkled and twinkled like jewels.
“Well,” Daniel opened the picnic basket, “I did said it’s a coffee date.” He took out a stainless steel thermos, poured the steaming hot liquid inside into two mugs. He handed one to Seongwoo. It was their usual instant one: Seongwoo could recognized the familiar taste, but due the setting it felt so much better. He drank the whole cup, felt sated as he exhaled a sigh, his breath turned into a white mist in the air. Daniel offered, “I also got fried chickens and gimbap… and chocolate muffins. Your favourite.”
Seongwoo was speechless. The whole romantic setting felt overwhelming; the butterflies inside his stomach was almost unbearable. “Niel-ah…”
“It’s one of your bucket list, right Hyung?” Daniel smiled again, flashed Seongwoo his thousand watts smile, “Watching the meteor shower.”
As it was on cue, the first several meteor flashed on the sky. Seongwoo’s brain barely remembered that it was the Geminids meteor shower—the one he told Daniel that he really looked forward to watch since he read the articles on the news. The meteoroids trails were bright and beautiful, yet Seongwoo couldn’t tear his gaze from Daniel. The younger’s eyes were gentle and filled with adoration.
Seongwoo felt breathless. “This… thank you, Niel-ah. I—I don’t really know what to say…”
Daniel touched Seongwoo’s cheeks, right on his moles; warmth seeped through the woollen gloves. Seongwoo opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. He closed his mouth, gaped again, then he broke into a smile; his eyes felt hot and teary. “Hyung,” Daniel’s voice was husky, “I want to see the meteor shower again with you, years after years. I want to cherish you. I’m younger than you, but I promise that I’ll surely make you happy.”
Seongwoo held Daniel’s other hand, his chest felt tight. “Seongwoo-ya,” Daniel called him again, informally, “Please be mine. I’ll be yours. I want us to be official.” He leaned in, their faces were inches apart. “It took a while for me to say this: I love you. I love you, Seongwoo-ya. Please be mine. Be my boyfriend. Be my soulmate… be my other half.”
The meteor shower was forgotten; those trails painted the sky with a breath-taking cascade. Seongwoo wanted to reply, anything really, but there was an annoying lump on his throat—so he leaned in instead and kissed Daniel. Daniel’s lips felt soft and inviting; the younger male embraced him tighter in return and deepened their kiss.
“Yes,” He finally replied, voice shaken as he laughed, trails of happy tears rolled down his cheeks. He could see his own reflections on Daniel’s dilated pupil: rosy cheeks with similarly blown wide pupils, starry eyed and absolutely in love. “Yes,” He repeated, “I’ll be yours, Niel.”
Daniel cupped Seongwoo’s face for another breath-taking kiss. “I love you,” He whispered on the latter’s ear, saccharinely sweet, “I love you… to the moon and back. To the infinity and beyond… Foverer and ever…”
“Me too,” Seongwoo mouthed back, lips nipped the latter’s lower lips, kneaded it gently, “I love you, Niel-ah.”
I love you from the very beginning.
[lament]
There was a saying that there’s an end for every party—nothing last forever. Seongwoo scoffed for his melancholy reminisce of the past. He stood up and went back to his kitchen. The silence was killing him, so he turned up the radio. The chatter noise soon filled the room. He took his mug and his precious tea leaves from their decorated tin, put the electric kettle on boil mode.
And his mind wandered again.
They used to be the sickeningly sweet couple; their circle of friends often made gagging noise whenever the two of them interacted with each other. Aish, this stupid couple, they said. But others labeled them as the ‘IT’ couple or even the relationship goals.
It was funny—the irony was it was Daniel that propose their beginning of relationship, and he was the one who broke their bonds abruptly; merciless and painful. It was the latter whom once said that he will make Seongwoo happy and will never break his heart… yet it was Daniel whom broke his promises and shattered Seongwoo’s heart into million of pieces. Wounded him so badly, ripped him apart, and tore what had been left.
Yet Seongwoo couldn’t voice any of reasoning during all Daniel’s begging and crying. He was there, sitting on the coach, Daniel kneeled on the carpet as the younger male hugged his waist and cried… and cried and cried some more—eyes swollen with dark shadows underneath, looked so pale and tired and tormented with grief. Daniel’s voice went mute, a mere buzz; and Seongwoo remembered that there was thousands of his own train of thoughts ran wildly inside his head: most of them began with why and what if.
“Seongwoo-ya,” Daniel’s voice was broken and rasp, “Say something… please…”
He cupped Seongwoo’s cheeks, and the older male’s gaze finally shifted. Seongwoo stared at him, silently, no words spoken as he just opened his lips slightly—eyes empty and dark while a pool of tears formed on his lower lid.
“I love you,” Daniel said. There’s a tremble on his tone, a painful one as he looked absolutely crushed eventhough he was saying words of love. Seongwoo blinked, and the tears rolled down. His tears fell, drops after drops as he couldn’t stop them—like a faucet left open. Daniel grabbed him into a tight hug, let him wailed as he clung onto Daniel like it was their last night together; he buried his face onto the younger’s neck and wailed, high pitched and sorrowful.
He still didn’t say anything afterwards.
And it was indeed their last night together.
Daniel tidied his belongings from their flat—the one they rent together after Daniel’s graduation. They had move in together like it was the very natural thing to do, a practical and logical steps as they spent their years being sweetheart during the rest of their college years. Seongwoo couldn’t even remember which one of them whom brought the prospect of them living together in the first place. Their routine fell seamlessly like fitted puzzle and they were happy. They spent their new year and their Valentine and their anniversary and Seongwoo’s birthday there. And now, Daniel left. Before they got a chance to celebrate the younger’s birthday.
It was awful to see how bare it feels—their flat without Daniel’s stuffs. Those little things that left his traces of living the space, like his pile of books and unsealed pack of Haribo gummies laying around.
They stood there in the middle of the room; Daniel with his suitcases along with a medium sized cardboard box, and Seongwoo stood awkwardly in front of his former lover, eyes casted downwards onto the carpet. “Can you… bring this with you?” He gave Daniel the paper bag. It was supposedly his birthday present: a new cashmere sweater, a mixtape of their favourite playlist and a titanium watch with their quotes engraved underneath.
I love you to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond, forever and ever.
It was shameful as they never got their forever. It was broken by a dying man’s wish and a dutiful son’s decision to honor the request. Seongwoo couldn’t blame Daniel. He have no heart to do so, while Daniel looked so broken and soulless by fulfilling that wish. “Thank you,” Daniel thanked him. Seongwoo just nodded and escorted the latter to the door.
Then, Daniel paused.
“Seongwoo-ya,” He called, faint yet clear enough to be heard, “I still love you. And I’ll always do.” He dragged his suitcases, held the box using his other hand. Seongwoo still lowered his gaze, had no courage to see the anguish on Daniel’s face. The door closed with a sott click then the sound of the suitcase’s wheels dragged away went faint, along with the sound of the steps. Daniel had left. Daniel had walking away. Away from their flat, from their bond, from Seongwoo.
He fell into the floor—dropped on his knees. He tried to muffled his voice, but he couldn’t. He wept, a long animalistic screeches escaped from his throat. Seongwoo bursted into tears. He hit the ground repeatedly, then he lost his strength and lied there on his back. He didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know how to live his life, without Daniel.
What should I do now, Niel-ah…?
♪ ♫ ♬ You know I can't smile without you
I can't smile without you
I can't laugh and I can't sing
I'm finding it hard to do anything ♪ ♫ ♬
Present time, Seongwoo almost dropped his mug. He stood there on his tiny kitchen, frozen—leaned on his countertop. He let out a soft wheeze as he suddenly found that it was hard to breathe. His chest felt tight. He wanted to cry, yet he wanted to laugh. What an irony. It was their song. It was the same Barry Manilow song, out of the blue. It’s like the universe dropped him a hint, gave him a powerful nudge.
He saw the envelope again: white and innocent and harmless. Seongwoo closed his eyes. A sigh. He took the letter, then gazed once again on Daniel’s handwritting. Traced the lines using his fingertips. He noticed a wet mark on one edge; Daniel must be crying when he wrote the letter as it got tears’s stains on it.
“What should I do now, Niel-ah…?” He sighed, asked the same question that haunted him before.
Outside the window, the white snowflakes fell silently onto the earth.
[forward]
Their usual place is a small cafe located on the corner of their previous flat. It was a small vintage cafe with tons of antiques and a short-listed but superb menu. Their tea and coffee was especially exceptional, and the two of them spent a really good deal of time there. It was daunting to came back there after all these time; Seongwoo couldn’t visited the cafe even once since their separation—too many memories inside dan he couldn’t face the barista. The barista knew him and Daniel well, and Seongwoo have no courage to reply that they had broke up, eventhough it was clear that the two of them still love each other so much.
Seongwoo had moved from their flat right after Daniel left. It was unbearable to live there after the break up. He felt so helpless whenever he went home, and there was no one welcomed him. He was almost expecting Daniel sat on their coach, watching television or reading one of his book. Instead, it was all darkness and silence. It felt foreign; like there was something wrong, something haunting. He could close his eyes and still saw the mirage of him and Daniel together, spending their time on the flat happily. It felt like a curse, so he went to the realtor and move right away.
He never gave Daniel his new address. He purposely lose contact with their circle of friends. It was quite surprising that Daniel knew his new address, but then the latter could easily traced him with the help of a private eye.
Their previous old flat had been tore down—a newer building had been built instead. But the cafe was still there, beautiful and looked exactly the same. Other than the overgrowing ivy on the stone walls, everything else was still the same: there were a brass sign near the double barn-style door, the big panelled window showed the warm atmosphere inside. Light and fairy lamps decorated the ceiling, and there was a long cabinet shelves with rows of LPs stored on one side of the back wall.
The bell chimned as he opened the door. The barista behind the counter saw him and smiled. “Ah,” The middle aged man welcomed him, “An old friend. Haven’t see you for a while. You and that young lad of yours.”
“I’m meeting him here,” Seongwoo replied, and the old man understand. He didn’t ask anything else, other than “Your usual drink…?” Seongwoo nodded, grateful. His usual table near the corner was taken by a group of university students; books and laptops and stressed face facing the assignment’s deadline. He took another table, the one facing the window—so that he could see the street and the people outside.
Seongwoo sat on his chair restlessly. He was wearing his comfy blue sweater, but at the moment it felt suffocating. He played with the small present box he brought, fixed the bow and placed it on the desk. His iced lemon water remained untouched, the condensation created droplets of water on the outer side of the glass.
He came early—an hour to be exact. He was all giddy and twitchy, stole glances on to the entrance way too often. His heart was beating loudly against his ribcage. It was ridiculous, but he felt like a high school girl anticipating a date with her crush.
“Stupid,” He said to himself, scolded his own silly fantasy. He plugged in his earphone, tried his best to distract himself. He put his songs on shuffle, and random songs played immediately. Despite so, he still couldn’t focus. His memories replayed over and over, like a kaleidoscope. He could see their past selves there: entering the front door, laughed as they walked onto the corner booth seat. This is why he avoided the cafe—too many memories to be ignored.
It was half an hour later when the door opened. The chime of the bell startled him, and instinctively Seongwoo stole another glance on the entrance. And there was him: half an hour early from their meeting time, stood there by the door, an awkward smile plastered on his face. He was wearing a white turtleneck underneath the black jacket with trimmed fur on the collars, Seongwoo’s gift watch decorated his wrist. Daniel looked paler and thinner, a dark shadow casted under his eyes. He looked like he wasn’t be able to properly rest for a while.
Seongwoo’s breath hitched. He took off his earphone; hesitated to call the latter’s name. He kept his silence as Daniel approached him, stood in front him—unsure what he supposed to do. “May I sit here… Hyung?” He asked, and Seongwoo nodded slowly. After all, they did meet here to… talk, right? Daniel said that they need to talk, so here he is. On the promised place, a bit early from their meeting time.
“I—“ Daniel paused for a second there, “To be honest, I was surprised that you’re even here Hyung…”
Seongwoo laughed: a bitter, awkward one. “Why?” He asked, “You thought that I won’t come?”
Daniel took a deep breath, “Because I did hurt you so badly. I was the one who broke our relationship, our bond. And I won’t be surprised if you hate me for it.”
I couldn’t hate you, Seongwoo wanted to say, I couldn’t possibly do that. But he said nothing. He stared at Daniel’s face, as if he wanted to remembered every details of the latter’s features. The atmosphere was heavy and melancholy, then the barista put Daniel’s usual order without even asking. A macchiato and a slice of their cake of the day. Today it was a walnut pie, with honey glaze. There was two tiny forks on the side of the plate; both Seongwoo and Daniel laughed for the sight of it.
“He remembered,” Seongwoo commented. He took one of the fork and cut a first slice of their cake. Daniel followed him and took another slice. They ate the cake in amusement—the two of them always share the cake like this: one slice of cake, using two forks.
“You know,” Seongwoo finally said, “I’ve thinking a lot these days. Especially after I got your letter. I thought about many things: about us, about your decision, about our separation. And you know what, Niel-ah? I’m not angry with you. You tried your best to a good son, to fulfil your father’s last wish. I’m not that cruel to hold my grudge for such a reason. And no… I didn’t hate you for it. I never have.”
There was the pause again. Daniel sighed. “Hyung…?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s cliche, but…” He was still tensed, “How are you? Are you doing good?”
“I’m okay,” Seongwoo answered, “I moved from our flat though, yet you still found me. How you get my current address?” Daniel smiled, “I asked Jisung-Hyung about you.”
“Ah. Jisung. Of course.”
Jisung was one of his friends whom still keeping contact with him. The older male acted like the mom of their circle of friends, and actually helped Seongwoo more than once. Jisung never pry about Daniel and their relationship: he just simply knew. And he was there to support Seongwoo during his lowest time after the broke up. He was checking Seongwoo time to time, just to make sure that the younger male was okay.
Seongwoo took a sip of his lemon water, then ate another slice of the pie. “Niel-ah…?” He asked then, “What do you want to ask?”
“I mean,” Seongwoo hurriedly explained, “You did ask me to meet. You said that you want to talk. So… what is it?”
“Please don’t be angry,” Daniel put down his fork. He stared straight onto Seongwoo’s eyes. “Hyung… Seongwoo-ya,” He called Seongwoo informally again, and Seongwoo’s breath hitched, “I do know that you have no love relationship after our break up. Jisung-Hyung said that you never found a new guy, have no interest for a new love. I… I’ll sounded pretentious—but I made my bet that I got a hope, for the two of us. Will you give me a second chance, Hyung? I want us to be together again. I want us to lovers again.”
“Niel-ah…”
“My divorce will be finalized soon,” Daniel explained, “We still got last alimony battle to settled, but else than that… I’m finally free. I could be yours again, Seongwoo-ya. I do keep my words. When I left, I said that I love you and I will always do. It is true, it always does. And days I live without you by my side was a pure torture. I couldn’t bear it. I— I want to put back our ‘forever’ ahead us, Seongwoo-ya. You are still my other half, all these times. And I still want to see meteor shower again with you, years after years.”
Tears rolled down Seongwoo’s eyes. Daniel stood up and kneeled in front of the older male. He took both Seongwoo’s hands and held them. “I know that I messed up once,” He earnestly pleaded, “But this time I will surely cherish you. I promised I won’t make another mistake. I want you to be happy. Please… please Seongwoo-ya… Please be mine again. Please let me be yours again. Please be my soulmate once again.”
Seongwoo’s tears fell harder. He sobbed quietly, lowered his back and curved his body—his face almost touched his knees. But then, he raised his face and opened his eyes—wet and messy from tears; eyes were bloodshot yet there’s a smile plastered on his face. “You,” He blinked, another tears rolled down his cheeks. He cupped Daniel’s face—one of the latter’s hand still held his forearm, “Yeah. I love you Niel-ah, to the moon and back…”
“To infinity and beyond,” Daniel whispered the continuation of their quotes, and he started to cry as well. His voice cracked as he finished the quite, “Forever and ever.”
“Mmm,” Seongwoo hummed, nodded as he kept holding the younger male, “Forever and ever.” Daniel leaned in for a kiss, and Seongwoo’s obliged. Their lips met and locked and danced; it felt so right, like it was the way it supposed to. Daniel showered Seongwoo’s face with peppering kisses before he claimed those luscious lips once again. Seongwoo pulled Daniel up, and angled his face to give Daniel a better access.
When they finally separated: both flushed and messy, red cheeked and stained with tears, the two of them laughed. Those students on the corner booth stared and gaped at them, some of the girls were actually cried. Both of Seongwoo and Daniel didn’t pay any attention to them though, but they did notice the old barista sniffled behind the counter and excused himself to the kitchen.
“Here,” Seongwoo gave Daniel the small present box he brought, “Open this up.”
Daniel untied the bow and opened the box. There was some tissue paper inside, Daniel peeled the layer and found a key inside. The metal gleamed under the lights, and Daniel’s smile widened. Seongwoo laughed again. “It’s the key of my place. Welcome home, Niel-ah.”
He was soon engulfed with a tight, warm bear hug. Daniel embraced him, laughed as well, and Seongwoo buried his face on the crook of the latter’s neck—inhaling the familiar scent of citrus and cotton and musk, tinged with the aroma of spices and sandalwood. The long forgotten scent of his beloved, the scent of home: where his heart belongs.
And here you are now: back to my arms, right where you belongs.
To the moon and back.
To infinity and beyond.
Forever.
And ever.
-end-