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The first and only time Lee Felix set foot on the land of South Korea, all eyes were on him. Bright red hair drawing most of the attention, it prepared people for the bliss that was his face; tanned skin, scattered freckles like the clearest night sky in summer, both from the constant exposition to sunny weather in his homeland, a pair of plump, heart-shaped lips resting in a vague smile.
His deep eyes searched every corner of whatever place he found himself in, waiting for its secrets to be unraveled at his presence. Laughing, unknowingly moving in the most enticing way, blending perfectly within any scenery; be it neon lights in the early mornings of the city, when the music coming from clubs was at its loudest point, or sunsets in a distant field surrounded by the soft breeze the birds' flight made against the flowers, the boy managed to find his place.
Staring him up and down in confusion when their eyes first met had been Changbin's greatest mistake, for then the image of his welcoming gaze despite him being the one coming from oceans away wouldn't leave his mind in the most dreadful occasions— running late to the computing department, waking up after a night of almost no sleep, staring at the rain falling against his bedroom window. No amount of work could distract him once he'd crossed paths with who he believed to be the most ethereal being on this forsaken planet.
It got him hypnotized to the point Chan's words didn't register in his mind that evening, only catching the boy's name and that he'd been the older's friend for years. A timer was set the moment he decided not to ask further, dark eyes already inviting him in to discover all the wonders he had to offer; and even though he would never admit it, Felix had him tightly wrapped around his finger from that exact second.
Changbin wasn't used to giving in so easily. He wasn't sure what particularity of Felix's had destroyed his internal commands with such little maneuver, yet within a month he found himself hiding his face in embarrasment at the thought of the younger, hoping they'd run into each other in the university hallways. He tried not to rush, maintaining his moral policy of letting things fall into places, but Felix wasn't keen on making it easy; his sunshiny smile lurked around the places, his name a constant topic of conversation within people.
Promptly the talk died down, though it didn't mean, by far, that the boy's irresistible personality did too; without every tongue speaking of him, Changbin realized it was incredibly harder to not succumb to his charms, for Felix was now tied to his friend circle and there were no words to judge him by other than his own. And to his dismay, the redhead was even sweeter than his appearance showed him as.
He was dancing around Chan's apartment whenever Changbin went, as that was his place of residence for an undefined period of time, and the smell of the brownies he made lingered on the older's sweater for days, an unreasonable fear of the aroma disappearing taking over once it was time to do the laundry. And it was funny, because Changbin had never been a fan of their dovelike flavor until the freckled face insisted he'd put all his effort into them— no other thing had tasted the same since then.
The younger began to show up at his door with the excuse of seeing Minho, who as much of being the brunette's flatmate, was also the first person who'd had the guts to volunteer at being Felix's Korean instructor those first months; eventually the oldest of the three would leave and they would find themselves captivated in a silence Felix would always break first, done with the emptiness of the game of keeping distance that Changbin insisted on playing. For what purpose, not even the latter was sure, because with each day passing it was becoming as clear as water how deep he was sinking in.
Contrary to the dynamic their relationship was carrying, it was the older who ended up asking Felix out. No kiss under the moonlight, no shy touches as a slow song accompanied them, no clumsy accident that had one on top of the other; it happened a cold December evening, when the redhead was retrieving his coat from the hanger in the apartment entrance readying himself to leave, and Changbin realized he didn't want him to cross that door at all.
But there were a few steps he'd have to take first.
He blamed it on the weather outside, on how far Chan's place was from his despite the older having said he'd pick Felix up with no problem. With only the difference in temperature between his home and the building's hallway, the younger's cheeks had already developed a pinkish tone quite similar to the one his faded hair dye had created. Holding softly onto the sleeve of his puffy coat, Changbin made him turn around and simply suggested, "Do you want to go out for a coffee or something tomorrow?", praying the other would catch the hint at first try.
"It's a date then," Felix smiled, as if he had it planned from the moment their first words were said; leaving a completely lovestruck Changbin behind the closed door, counting every single second until the next day arrived.
They'd both gone on a fair amount of dates before even meeting each other— at twenty-four and with a record of failed relationships following him, the older believed he knew how to behave on a first date with a person he hadn't known for too long, yet somehow, he miscalculated and underestimated the being that was Lee Felix. Going out for a coffee soon turned into a trip around the main streets of the city centre, where the Christmas lights had been recently placed only to turn the area into the perfect scenery for the boy; hair strands illuminated in gold, eyes reflecting the happiness surrounding them, there was no other place for him to be at that moment.
"It's a bit sad, since this is going to be the first Christmas I'm not spending with my family," he spoke, loud enough for his words to not get lost within the crowd, "but this is beautiful. I'm actually glad to be here."
From the bottom of his chest Changbin wanted to shout he was, too, but holding himself back he simply took the smaller hand in his, feeling the softness of the skin against one another as a reminder that for the time being, they were there, under the thousands of constellations of a winter night. He knew there would be a second date, and a third, and a fourth; he knew there was a future intertwining his fingers, and so he remained silent about it, filling the spaces with names of streets and stores Felix was excited to learn about.
If the, then, raven-haired Changbin despised something with a passion it was family gatherings, for there were too many people he'd heard of but never really gotten close to, barely remembering their faces; and they'd always ask the same three questions about his life at the annual Christmas dinner at his aunt's home. First his father's cousin, "How's your degree going?", followed by someone's husband, "Got any plans for working?", and his aunt herself finished the round, "Any boyfriends or girlfriends yet?"
This particular last one tended to spark up the discussions, as the boy had never brought any of his past partners to the reunions and their relatives put all their passion into figuring out how the person was when he confirmed his relationship status— taller than him, or maybe the same height; long hair, but girls with short hair had always attracted him; smart and delicate, knowing that his soft spot was to be found in boys who were the complete opposite. On the occasions when Changbin was painfully single, they'd pester him with questions of what happened and sweet words of encouragement, and over those years he'd learned one thing; the ocean was full of fish. None better than another, simply different and with new colors to explore.
The Christmas of that year he sat beside his aunt, preparing himself with the answers he'd have to give. As expected, his dad's cousin threw a sneaky glance across the table before asking, "So, Changbin, how's that degree going?"
"Complicated, but I'm managing," he gave his rehearsed response; studying computer science was, in no way, something he could manage as simply as he was used to telling them, "I just have to finish this master and then I'm free to go."
Immediately after those words, one of his cousins' husband —Changbin wasn't sure who, with their freshly ironed shirts and slacks they all looked like twins to his untrained eyes— proceeded with the next question, "And any plans for working yet?"
As he went on a pre-meditated rant about how the market was growing tight and his options weren't exactly limited in a country where technology extended as far as one could dream, the others passed around the plates and distributed the food, promptly making them quiet down about those topics to focuse more on their compliments to the cook. It wasn't meant to last long, though; soon they were back at it with the, thankfully, final inquiry.
Next to him, Changbin's aunt was already giggling, her throat visibly swallowing the last sip of wine in her glass, "Any boyfriends or girlfriends we don't know about?"
He was used to it, and yet the words always got him nervous, his heart beating fastly as if it was his first love, the name of the person coming out in a shy whisper like his teenaged self had done so many years before when they asked him for the first time.
"Well, there's this boy..."
And Changbin had been right. There was a second date as soon as he returned to the big city, for Felix spent his holidays yearning for that kind of fun, insisting Chan's presence was nowhere near being the same. The local movie theatre was celebrating winter by doing special sessions, which promptly led Changbin to discover the younger's passion for Shinkai's work, when all the lights out left only the sceneries uncovering before their eyes on the evening he took Felix to watch it. If there existed something with a beauty comparable to them, he was sure it was the boy beside him.
From the trees scattered across the mountains, each of them placed in a way they stood out yet belonged exactly to their place, to the lost souls in the cities trying to look for their haven while painting smiles on their tired faces, it all came back to Felix. Once he'd seen it Changbin knew— he wouldn't be able to watch Your Name without thinking of him, and the way his hand shyly creeped up onto the older's.
Though it wasn't until their fourth date that they'd had enough of waiting and finally gave in to a kiss. Under the streetlight at the doorstep of Chan's apartment building waiting for him to open the gate, Felix jokingly mumbled between his cold breaths, "My face is freezing, you might have to kiss me to warm up until Chan decides to let me in."
"Don't say it twice, Lee."
But he did say it twice, not expecting Changbin to be truthful to his words, his respiration hitching when those warmer hands cupped his cheeks delicately and the other's face inched closer, awaiting for a confirmation. He closed the gap, and Changbin found it incredibly easy to melt onto the redhead's lips— so soft, so perfectly paced with every movement. Though their misfortune had been the broken intercom behind Felix, as Chan rushed out of the building interrupting the moment with a hectic, "Damn, Lix, I forgot to tell you someone crashed it."
On their ninth date spring was beginning to bloom, letting the first buds of March blossom into the flowers that had been waiting so long for their turn. By then, the younger's red hair dye had long faded and it had been substituted by the bleached blond underneath, well taken care of, and most arms were on display in an attempt to convince the sun it was time for its heat. The parks were covered in those peculiar checkered blankets, the couples wishing to seize every second of the month before April's rains arrived; and Changbin and Felix weren't lesser than them.
"I probably just want to leave a trace of myself behind in this world," the latter let out a chuckle as he fell onto the bed of grass, his hairstrands intertwining with the plants, in response to Changbin's question about why he specifically chose Literature as a career path. He played with the hem of the cloth where the older was laying, closing his eyes unaware of the loving stare embracing his body.
If he wanted to leave a trace of himself behind, Changbin could confidently answer he already had. Nobody loved like Lee Felix did, with a passion made of porcelain that he knew how to use, with his featherly kisses lingering on a lover's skin until it burnt, with the subtle way his steps found a path towards the loneliest souls. Changbin had been a prime victim of it all, and God did it feel like paradise.
"Will you be my boyfriend, Lix?"
He knew Felix wouldn't say no; in fact, he was sure Felix had been waiting for him to ask that precisely, too proud or maybe too shy to do it himself. Not looking up, the younger laughed, "Yeah, I will."
Spending time together wasn't a rare occurrence for the two; now, having an established relationship, it became as daily as it could get. Changbin would wait for the younger outside the lecture halls and drive him home, Felix would roam around the computing department despite not knowing what wonders took place in there until his boyfriend was done with, well— whatever the hell he was working within so many screens and beeping sounds, for he had no honest idea. Sometimes they'd stay outside; others, their own exhaustion or the weather would enclose them both inside one of the apartments, always to their roommates dismay, tired of the constant displays of affection yet, deep down, happy for them.
The weekends when Minho would leave home tended to be the loneliest for Changbin, with no sound other than the ones he made himself, no one to scold him for forgetting the dishes or not hanging out the laundry. Minho had a partner of his own, and since some months ago a timer had been set, the sand flowing down the closer he got to moving out of the shared place to live with him. It was no secret, even with his tough efforts to hide it, that an important piece of his life was left behind in Changbin's presence, and he insisted he wanted to make sure someone took his position before completely leaving the building.
Felix did. He filled the space with his giggles and the noises he got accustomed to make to alert others of his presence; sometimes a greeting, sometimes the humming of a song. Instead of scolding Changbin for the piled up dishes in the sink, the boy would play 5SOS's discography and teach him to wash them following the rhythm; when the laundry had to be dried, he'd help the older hang the clothes out by color. When the sun fell down they'd choose between dancing in clubs for as long as the night carried them, or be awfully domestic and fall asleep on Changbin's bed after the cuddle session they grew to appreciate more than anything else.
Trails of Felix's self began appearing on the apartment weekend by weekend. First it was an earring he'd taken off before going to bed and ended up forgetting; then a shirt he'd left in the hanger behind the bathroom door after showering, having stolen one from Changbin that he ended up not returning.
"I just love your smell, Bin. It doesn't go away, no matter how much I wash the shirt."
The specific brand of shampoo he used for his bleached hair found its way into Changbin's shopping list, as well as his favorite kind of tea. Piled up in the living room table, the mountain of papers scattered with ideas for novel plots or notes from his classes kept growing; he'd come for the ones he needed and unconsciously substitute it with another document. In the dark cushions of the sofa, blonde strands of hair could be seen, a color entirely different from Changbin or Minho's.
After Minho finally left the number of toothbrushes in the bathroom stayed the same; Felix's now occupied the vacant space that the older's had left. There were still two coats hanging behind the front door, as Felix always made sure to leave an excuse for coming back despite fully knowing he didn't have to.
The option of hanging out at Chan's place was long forgotten, now that Changbin's apartment was only for the two of them. Chan smiled when he saw Felix coming back at the start of the week looking the happiest he'd ever been, to go away on Fridays again and so on, a cycle everyone grew accustomed to. The couple would go out each with their own friends —despite most of them being friends with both— on weekdays, having the last two days entirely to themselves and their burning love.
When summer arrived Changbin was finally free from studies and the main concern in his mind became looking for a full-time job, while the other got lost between the books for his final exams. Almost three weeks of no contact left them empty, yearning for that support they'd always had in each other's arms; but when they were able to return to them, Felix had a degree in Literature and Changbin was in the eyes of a local programming company.
"I don't want to be away from you for so long ever again," the older mumbled onto Felix's neck, almost asleep, the words tickling the skin and causing a few tired giggles to leave the latter's lips. His grip on the blonde's waist was soft yet secure, a sign that he wanted to fulfill his promise and remain by his side until life took him away. Felix turned around and pecked his nose before kissing him on the lips as a quiet way of expressing his gratefulness, hiding on his chest to let himself fall asleep, despite the July night being too warm for the position they were in.
The majority of the break was spent on Changbin's hometown, close to the sea with not many people around other than his relatives and some friends from high school. As his entire family fell in love with Felix, the latter did so with the beach; more than a first love, it was a relapse, for the thin touch of the sand and the crashing of the waves against the sunset reminded him of his home so, so far away. He'd call his mother and pass the hours strolling along the shore, his English still flowing as effortlessly as the ocean.
Only watching him and not understanding a word said did the older realize— had Felix decided if he wanted to stay permanently in Korea?
Maybe all his magic resided in the fact that he was ephemeral.
"I'm not sure, Changbin," he told him after a family dinner, thankful the lights in Changbin's room were off and the moon didn't illuminate enough, "All I know is I want to be with you. But I miss my family, too."
September welcomed Changbin with a job at that programming company, and Felix with a final master's degree before he could begin his professional career like his boyfriend was doing. It also gave them the courage to move in together definitely instead of simply staying over one of their places; it was the younger who left Chan, him not complaining as long as his now ex-roommate was happy with the decision. Still, Felix's projects were tougher than initially expected, and Changbin's schedule was too tight for their liking them, leaving little to no time besides nights to keep their relationship blooming.
They cooperated and found ways to make up for it; painting the living room walls was the first one. A Saturday morning, before the dark-haired woke up, Felix drove half an hour to the biggest DIY and decoration stores in the city, coming back with two cans of olive coloured painting that he was sure the other would love, and huge brushes.
"Jesus, Lix," Changbin laughed, almost spitting his coffee when the taller opened the bags to reveal his purchase, "This is the best idea you've had in months."
The white walls were soon replaced, the happiness of the area being restored with every giggle that left their lips when one tried to paint the other's arm. Felix's shirt, that one he'd stolen from Changbin months ago, was deeply stained in dark green, though he got his revenge by drawing hearts in the older's cheeks when he was too distracted to notice what was going on. The result wasn't professional in the slightest, but the memory of those stolen kisses between the dirty floor and clothes made the blotches bearable enough.
It wasn't until Christmas was around the corner that things took an unexpected turn, starting by a call from Changbin's mother informing that his aunt had fallen ill. The plans the couple had made to finally visit Australia were shattered, for the boy loved the woman too much to not give his full support and presence during her hardest times.
"I'm sorry, Lix, I promise I'll make it up to you somehow."
"Bin, it's fine, I swear. You don't have to make it up to me. Hell, it's your aunt, of course you have to be there for her," the blonde hid on the crook of the other's neck, breathing against his skin in an attempt to make him feel as peaceful as he could in such a situation, "I wish I could go with you, but it's been a year and a half since I last saw my family and I promised them I'd visit this time."
They understood. Sometimes being together at the same moment and place was too complicated, and they were witnessing it for the first time, but they understood.
And despite calling every single day, once January came and they were back at their apartment within each other's embrace, something had changed; Changbin's face was paler than usual, his eyebags prominent and in a purple tone the strongest concealer would find impossible to cover, lips chapped and bruised— a complete, absolute wreck. In much contrast, Felix returned with tanned skin and even more freckles than he had left with, his blonde hair now dyed lavender and the freezing temperatures in Korea catching him by surprise.
"She's getting better," the older showed him an exhausted smile when Felix asked about the state of his aunt, "It has cost all of us a few sleepless weeks, but she's getting a lot better. Doctor says she'll probably be off treatment around March."
For the next month the younger focused on helping his boyfriend recover from those awful holidays; making sure he got the right amount of food and sleep, going on long walks across the park on their free days, kissing the top of his head to remind him he was there, beside him.
Changbin couldn't place what, but there was something wrong. Maybe it was the way each kiss felt like a goodbye, or Felix's tight grip on his hand as if he was being forced to let go, or the amount of clothes that had disappeared from the latter's side of the closet.
"Ah," he chuckled once it was brought up, "I left them back at home."
Or the fact that home, for the first time since they'd moved in together, referred to a place where Changbin wasn't present.
Hoping their anniversary would light up the faded spark, the latter chose to wait. With the newly born flowers, a white that made the almond trees look like it had snowed on them again and the soft, baby pink cherry blossoms adorning the sight, the couple paid tribute to their first year together by doing the exact same thing they had when Changbin mustered up to courage to ask the question, when Changbin had noticed the deep mark Felix had carved on his insides; a picnic.
Felix laid across the grass, letting the breeze grace his cheeks and promptly pulling the other down with him.
"Isn't it pretty?"
Changbin had never realized how huge the sky was. So vast, open and blue, the clouds swimming through it creating shapes without knowing it, only visible to the human imagination that pointed to them and claimed they were familiar. It cried, relieving the Earth from the heavy weights clinging onto the ground, and it fell asleep, showing people another world of figures to conjoin— dot by dot, star by star, it was the same sky here, it was the same sky in Australia. Truly, he thought as the delicate wind hit his face, the one connection between all beings was right there, in the infinite sky.
For as long as it was the same for everyone and everything, they wouldn't be alone.
"It's beautiful."
The look in Felix's eyes, reflecting the atmosphere above them and twisting it in a way that, for once, the older found hard to distinguish if it was loving or empty, told him there wouldn't be more picnics. And as he shifted awake in their bed that night, the taller's hand resting against his hip bone, Changbin found two choices; intertwine their fingers and hold onto it for as long as their skin resisted, or let it go before it began to hurt. He forgot what he had done in previous relationships when the same situation unraveled before him. But weren't lovers supposed to figure it out and keep the feelings flowing together?
Perhaps that's where all hope got lost— in Felix's absence, in how he pretended there was nothing wrong.
Unconsciously, they fell back into the dreadful routine of work and studies, their hours together becoming mere minutes and the otherwise free weekends now occupied with extra projects or excuses, "It's been a while since I last saw Chan", "I miss spending time with Minho".
"Lix, I have to go buy some books," Changbin kept trying, nudging the other softly to fully gain his attention, "Come with me and then we can go to the post office for the package you wanted to send."
"But there are no bookstores near the post office," caressing the shorter's hand as if it was made of the finest porcelain, he let out an exhausted sigh, "It will be easier if we just go on our own."
Going into town was a quick task if the older went by himself, yet remarkably less entertaining. The shop displays couldn't catch his attention if there was no excited squeal from Felix by his side, buying a new pair of jeans seemed too boring if no one would transform the trying it on into a complete fashion show. The constant bustling of the city, its neverending roads so full of life, had never seemed as quiet; the sun fell and the shadows it created made the area hollow, a haunted place he was too scared to face alone.
Along the manmade landscapes, the wardrobe in their room also grew emptier. As all things, it was a process; Changbin didn't see it until he opened the doors to retrieve a shirt and found Felix's half devoid of the pile of clothes that used to be taller than his. He wondered where they had disappeared, because there was no trace of them left behind except the gray string of a hoodie that, by then, was out of sight.
"Ah, right," the other chuckled when he was questioned about it; not an accusation, simply the curiosity of a boyfriend who feared growing paranoid about his lover's fidelity, "A lot of my clothes were too old or small. I sent them back home in case mom wants to do something with them."
Somewhere behind those words hid a lie, an excuse, and he knew well it wasn't the fact that all those pieces of fabric were back at the place they had come from. But why would Felix hide the true reason he had sent them— what reason could there even be?
They got lost. By the beginning of June neither of them was sure what string could possibly still be holding them together, for they even slept back to back, waking up and falling into bed at different times, not a single hint of coordination. And as much as Changbin tried to search for a clear path, there was no map that could help them find each other again, help them find themselves and all their scattered pieces, left behind in every kiss and every sweet dream, within the innocence of a blooming love.
He knew Felix getting his master's degree would start a countdown. Days, hours, minutes ticking on the clock until the boy found an escape, an 'I found a job in another city' or, if he was brave enough, 'I don't feel anything anymore'. It terrified Changbin further than he let himself show— for the butterflies that once populated his stomach at the mere thought of Felix had been replaced with furious birds flapping their wings anxiously; the insanely fast pace his heart picked up when he felt his lover's touch grew even faster yet the reason was the complete opposite. Fear and love— so different but so similar in symptoms.
Therefore, seeing his apartment empty, all of Felix's things packed into a suitcase the very first day of July, was no surprise and still managed to tear his soul apart. The older was well aware it was for no vacation; else he wouldn't have taken each book that belonged to him, his beloved colection of 5SOS albums, his favorite mug. The Your Name poster in their room —soon to become only Changbin's— had been ripped off, the sticky tape leaving a mark in the place, having torn away a bit of the navy blue wall paint. On the living room table lay a single plane ticket and a passport he had seen only once before.
"Where are you going, Lix?"
His boyfriend —despite not being sure for how longer he would be called as such— turned around, his grip on the suitcase not loosening yet his eyes, still with hints of adoration for the desperate dark-haired boy he was leaving behind, growing teary.
"I'm going back home."
Changbin wanted to fall to the floor and simply cry. Not scream, or shout, or painful words; just sob his heart out and beg him to stay, to tell him where did they go wrong, to show him how to become his home again. He wanted to play the younger's favorite song and dance with him while doing the dishes, he wanted to hang their clothes out sorting them by color as the sunset illuminated the faced he so dearly loved in a way no other light could— because only sunsets were as magic as Felix was.
But instead, he swallowed it all and asked, "I can't go with you, can I?"
"No," his hand reached for the doorknob, lingering over it for a few more minutes, "You have your life here, your family, your friends, your job. Your heart is here. Mine is still in Australia. I guess it will always be."
Some things can't change no matter how hard one tried to substitute them. Felix hadn't been able to replace the love from his parents and siblings with the one Changbin's family gave him, nor had the memory of all his childhood and high school friends faded with letting new people into his life. Their voices were still there, at the back of his mind, a constant whisper to return to them sooner or later. And Changbin should have known.
"I can't even remember why I came here in the first place, Changbin," Felix's voice shook as he fought the urge to turn the doorknob once and for all, "I only know I'm glad I did, because I met you. But I can't stay any longer, it's killing me, and I..."
Silence. The next words to come were bullets, and they shot at both of them; the younger was afraid of seeing the other's broken heart mirrored in his face, but in the end, there was no other way to phrase it without leaving place for misunderstandings. Certain, it needed to be said.
"...I just don't feel the same way about you anymore."
Changbin resisted; his legs trembled and he forced himself to lean against the couch to not fall right then and there, and he blinked the tears away with as much energy as it was necessary. The lump shaping in his throat was heavy, too heavy to untie it without making a desperate sound, too heavy to open his mouth to speak. It made him remain quiet, simply staring at his now ex-boyfriend waiting for his last movement.
"Thank you for these past two years, Changbin."
The doorknob twisted and the entrance opened with a soft creak. He took a last glance at the person who had embraced every part of him, staring at his faded purple hair and his heart-shaped lips, those he had kissed so many times in so many different ways; his freckles adorning the eyes that once looked at him as if he were the last person alive, the last person worth loving. And the way he still fit perfectly under the sky of South Korea, as he had and would fit under the sky of Australia— simply because it was the same.
"Thank you too, Felix."
When the door closed and only the ghost of his lover lingered around to see him, Changbin gave in to his knees and crouched on the floor, his sobs quiet enough for no one but him to hear. His broken pieces scattered around every corner of the lonely apartment, but it was okay— he would pick them up and rebuild himself, the cracks a memory of those months when his whole world had revolved around the ethereal being that was Lee Felix.
It would all be fine.
__________
"Jesus, Changbin, it's been too long since I last saw you."
Minho's voice got muffled as he pulled the shorter into a bone-crushing hug, the smell of the café's caramel coffee already stuck on his hair.
"Calm down, dude, it's been just a month," he chuckled, returning the gesture and breathing in the scent. His friend had never been the affectionate type; having married someone as amorous as Jisung after being together for so many years truly had its effects. Pulling back, he snuck a glance at the silver ring around the older's finger, and smiled.
"Getting older is driving me crazy," Minho commented, falling back onto his seat after they had ordered, "I lose notion of time pretty often."
"Minho, you're only thirty-one."
"As if that isn't old enough. God, I miss being able to pick up things from the floor without my back crackling," taking a sip of his drink, he laughed at Changbin's amused expression and promptly changed the topic, "So, how's life been this past month?"
The other's smile widened as he began telling the few events that had taken place in such a period of time— from rescuing a kitten from the cruel streets to the date he had managed to set with the cute coworker from the Design department. With the cold they had grown closer, as Changbin's area of the building was noticeably warmer and the poor guy was shivering in the early mornings, no matter how many layers of clothing he put on; hot chocolates at seven a.m. were an easy way to make something blossom, and it sure had.
"His name is Seungmin," his pinkish cheeks let Minho see how much he already meant, and as much as he could hope for the younger's heart to not be broken again, he was aware it was simply the way life worked. His past few relationships hadn't lasted for long, yet in his dark eyes that spark was back, the one that made him believe falling in love was the simplest task, "He's special. I mean it, like... He reminds me of Felix, in a good way. He has that same magic, but... I'm sure Seungmin won't leave."
Changbin could only try and see what the universe had in store for them.
Unknowingly, hours went by; the two didn't realize how much they had missed each other's company and by no means could they stop talking once they had begun. It wasn't until the streetlights illuminated the streets that Minho reminded the other that, if he wanted to buy a book, he should get going before the stores closed.
"We'll meet up again sooner, I promise," Changbin hugged him one last time, "and tell Jisung I hope he's doing well, too."
Strolling down the streets, playing a game of zig-zag between the slow couples taking all the tine in the world to walk a few steps, he glanced at the few bookstores on the sides and settled inside the biggest one, knowing he'd have a wider range of novels to choose. Three floors welcomed him in, a sign on the entrance informing which type of book was located in each of them; the lighting was harsh, a contrast to the dark landscape outside, bright enough for the customers to eye the texts without any problems.
Changbin rolled past the comic section until he arrived next to the fiction authors, reading some of the new names from the aspiring youth fighting their way through a mass of experienced adults. One day, he thought, all of them would be the ones in the top shelves, the ones with the best reviews, the ones brought down by the new generations; though there would be a few resisting, being the first choice of those who had grown up reading them.
How funny, Changbin realized, that he could apply it to almost everything in life; all of his relationships had overshadowed one another, yet the green walls of his living room only reminded him of Felix— nothing of the people who came after him. If things went well with Seungmin, would he help him paint those walls again in a different color? Perhaps lavender or beige; he'd let him choose.
Would Seungmin's clothes start piling up in a corner of his wardrobe, would his favorite brand of tea find its way to the older's shopping list, would he leave his documents in the kitchen table just to have an excuse to return? Would he wash the dishes with him while shuffling his feet to the rhythm of his favorite song, would he slow dance with him on the hallways, would he rest his hand in Changbin's lower back when sleeping face to face? He knew it was too soon to be wondering those things.
His fingers caressed the spines of each book, stopping abruptly when a single name caught his attention,
Odds & Ends
by Lee Felix
(Korean translation by Choi Jisu)
and he knew perfectly well what the title meant, and he knew perfectly well the author was his— no, the Felix that had been part of his life. The Felix he was leaving behind, taking all the memories with him and using them to gather experience like he had done to write the novel that now rested between the brunette's hands.
Changbin smiled. It was too soon to be wondering those things, but he had collected all the odds and ends that made him who he was— and he was excited to show them all to Seungmin, as much as he wanted to see the patched up pieces that made the other become the person he was today.