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Has spring always been this cold?
Alternatively, is spring supposed to be this cold?
It’s been years since Minghao decided to stop associating springs with vivid cherry blossoms and begin to call it the season of existential crisis and burnout.
Minghao guessed it was from the heavy rain that fell earlier. He would say that the worn out coat he’s wearing is at fault, but that wouldn’t be fair for the well loved piece of fabric. That second hand item has accompanied him throughout two winters, with occasional comebacks on rainy weather. The fact that it has stayed in shape even after the hell Minghao put it through is worth applauding. Still, it could’ve been better if he didn't have to shiver as he made his way to the building he had in mind, though.
Cars drive at a slow pace, probably it’s because they were all tired. One was parked near a sweet shop Minghao frequently passed by. He took a wild guess as he continued walking; the driver stopped by to buy cakes for those who waited for him at the three story house, then came home to the smile of a spoiled brat and spouse.
Minghao could see a pair of tired eyes that have it good. Nine to five jobs might be sucking the soul out of them but they’re all groaning while seated in a nice, air conditioned car. Minghao hated comparing sufferings as he knew it’s not something that you should put on display for a silly juxtaposition, but that was on normal days. Today wasn’t that great, so he felt like throwing his fist to smash the windscreen. They can afford pricey repairs anyway, right? Minghao could see a pair of tired eyes that have it good.
He’s not sure if it’s from the pollution, the weather, or both, but there’s no hint of stars up in the dark sky. Only a blurry view of the pale moon is visible to his naked eye and it’s such a pity. Minghao is unmistakably a romantic; he’d be delighted to have twinkling stars above his head to escort him. He knew can’t always have good things in life, he learnt it the hard way. He just wished that God or whoever runs this damn world could be a little nicer to him. What’s so hard about giving him a mini show of the heavenly body? He’s the almighty, right? Doodling a quick portrait of a lazily drawn scenery wouldn’t be that much of a big deal.
Guess God’s always too busy granting wishes. Wishes of those who pray to him. Maybe Minghao should try to speak more highly of Him later.
At times like this, Minghao wished he took physical education classes seriously when he still belonged with the overly proud rebels. He couldn’t feel his legs from all the walking and he blamed it on the younger Minghao, along with his stupid plus naive decisions.
Maybe, that way, he won’t need to take a taxi just to get caught up in the traffic jam. He could’ve just ran, dashing through the bustling sidewalk, letting his steps take him towards the sight of a ruined man that he wouldn’t mind carrying.
Hours and minutes he spent just to get to Mingyu would have narrowed down to a shorter period, and his chest won’t need to ache at the thought of the man going through the exact same pain by himself. Minghao always felt lonely, that’s beyond doubt. It’s given that someone like him will always feel like he was out of place. The crowd doesn’t always give comfort, but a cheap consolation is definitely better than being boxed in a cramped apartment room.
He wished he could afford more luxury. Yes, he should’ve done better at school, done better at college, done better at a better job also. That wishful thinking wasn’t only for a godlike leg speed.
If his wasted high school years weren’t spent in vain, he could’ve been more than just the man he is right now. Maybe he should’ve put more effort into studying hard or growing towards the direction he's supposed to trace. He could’ve had more to offer for Mingyu. Much more than just empty words. It was more like a childlike daydream, but he wished he would’ve been able to pay for Mingyu’s rent or regular meds. He wished he could ease Mingyu’s pain and burden, but he can barely take care of his own.
That’s the thing about life, eh?
After a long walk with intrusive thoughts following him in each step he took, Minghao finally arrived at his destination. Mingyu’s apartment. Entering the building, Minghao killed the weak flames at the end of his burning cigarette with the sole of the shoe he bought on a bargain downtown.
He’s glad that though this place’s nowhere near grand, they still provide elevators. Minghao would go extreme measures just for Mingyu, but if he needed to take stairs to the fifth floor, he wouldn’t think that he’d arrive. His legs would probably give up halfway. He stole a few glances at the other residents that lounged around the ground floor for no reason. They all look the same. Same tired look on their face, same vacant stares directed at something Minghao couldn’t put a name to.
Since staying any longer wouldn’t grant him any merits, Minghao quickly stepped into the elevator. The busy hours have passed. The clock strikes twelve and Minghao had the room all to himself. He’s beyond glad that he’s not sharing it with anyone. Anyone would give him a judging stare since he reeks of cigs and that’s the least thing Minghao wanted after dealing with the bullshit he ran into on his way here.
Yes, smoking kills, there’s no denying. He’s aware of that. If there was real people squeezing him in the cramped up elevator this time, Minghao actually could understand why they would look at him like that. It’s dangerous to him and everyone else. He’s lucky enough to always stay sober, to not rely on it though forging vapors from crumbling ashes acts like therapeutics for Minghao. He always told himself that it will only work with the right dose, which is just once in a few months.
It’s not like he’d ever wish for that, but he found himself asking questions regarding how things would be if he took the wrong way.
If he walked down the rough path and crashed harder than he ever did before, if he pulled another one after leaving two cigarettes butt laying down on the cold and wet soil.
That way, would he be able to understand Mingyu a little better?
The first thing that greeted Minghao when he easily twisted the unlocked door knob was the distinctive smell of a booze, mixed with the everlasting scent of old books. Top two on the long list of Mingyu’s favorite things.
Sometimes it amazes Minghao how he could make this tiny room his own universe. Every corner of the room screams Mingyu’s name, radiates Mingyu’s vibes, echoes Mingyu’s piece of mind in every second. He enjoyed everything customized and personalized, that’s why he could claim this confined space as his castle. Minghao always found that adorable.
The television was on and Mingyu was falling asleep at the dining table. Although it’s true that he still could get a clear view of the screen from that distance, Minghao doubted that it was his intention. He probably forgot to turn it off before he began drifting to unconsciousness and now the static noise would be a cartoonish, good ol’ fun frenzy in his head.
Even with a flushed face and half lidded eyes, Mingyu is still beautiful.
Though it would’ve been a hundred times prettier if it was a smile instead of a grim expression.
“Hey.” Minghao patted his back, careful to not startle him. “Big boy, why are you sleeping here?”
He opened his eyes, staring at Minghao with a puzzled look. Minghao gave him a few minutes to take a good look at his face. He knew that it wouldn’t take too long for the drunk man to recognize him.
“Hao,” he called his name.
“Yep, ‘tis I.”
He groaned for a moment. From the way his eyebrows furrowed, Minghao assumed that it was from the headache he’s been complaining about these days. He brought himself closer to Mingyu so that he could stroke his back, hoping it can help to ease the pain even if it won’t do much.
“God.” He sighed. “I’m a fucking mess, aren’t I?”
Minghao shook his head. "No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
“No. Told you you’re not.”
“But I am.”
Realizing it was pointless to argue with a sloshed Mingyu, Minghao ruffled the taller man’s hair lovingly. Mingyu was slowly drifting back to the dreamland as Minghao kept on going. It was like a relief for his throbbing head. Minghao’s tender touch felt like the song of house sparrows that they sing in the morning. The song they sing as they fly upon the roofs in a resting suburb, basking under the sun and chirp in harmony.
“Look at you,” Minghao chuckled, “you’re going to fall asleep again.”
Mingyu nodded, not wanting to move even just for an inch. It’s been too long since the last time he felt so safe and secure.
“Mmm.”
“What time did you head to bed last night?” The blonde asked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get any sleep at all.”
“Mm… no… too much sleep, actually…” Mingyu whimpered. “Slept at 8 in the morning. Woke up at 6. But tired. Too tired, so I sleep again… so tired.”
Minghao nodded his head. “I see, I see.”
“Sorry.”
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I'm dumb and I can't do shit?"
Not this again.
“Don’t worry too much about fixing your schedule now, Gyu." Minghao said. "It’s good that you’re getting enough rest. You've been working really hard this whole time, right? You deserve a deep slumber.”
Night breeze made its way, as if the dim light that Mingyu left turned on were the ones who summoned him. Minghao took a seat next to Mingyu who already moved from his original position to make sure he’s back to being comfortable. He will always try to get closer to check up on him, keeping a proper distance if he needed one. It’s one of a thousand little things that Minghao always do for him.
Mingyu would never forget how Minghao’s eyes glisten that day. It was something that shined from within since there was no sign of the usual bright sunlight on the park. Trees were bidding goodbyes with their leaves, birds were heading towards anywhere but home. It was chilly and he offered to buy Mingyu coffee when he noticed the dried tear stains under his eyes, despite the fact that they haven’t known each other at that time.
Later on, he discovered that Minghao just did all that because he wants to. He wants to treat the world kindly.
Mingyu was drunk but he’ll always be conscious of Minghao’s presence. He has been something constant in his life for a year. It’s not much if he compared it to other people like his cocky childhood friends or his conceited family, but he was always alone as an adult. Those who grew up with him were bound to leave, be it by default or by an unfortunate mistake. He was prepared to never see Minghao again after three months of talking, but he enjoyed taking him by surprise. He stayed for the next day, the day after, and forevermore.
He bet Minghao knows that he’s scared of being left alone even though he never told him; the way he apologizes for way too many things gave him away. Mingyu also knows that Minghao won’t ever walk away even though he never said it out loud; the way he held Mingyu dearly and whispered ‘it’s okay’ whenever he began saying sorry gave him away.
As far as Mingyu’s concerned, it just rained earlier and he left the window open.
But the living room wasn’t cold with Minghao by his side.
“Come on, I’ll take you to your bedroom.” Minghao said with his hand extended for Mingyu to reach out, snapping him out of his messy thoughts. “You’ll catch a cold if you sleep here.”
Mingyu whined, but he still went along with him in the end. Minghao giggled at how he gave up way too easily, just like a big puppy acting grumpy just to cling to him after he changed his mind. He gave Mingyu another head pat before they stood up.
Minghao tried his best to drag Mingyu’s body all the way to his bedroom. The said man is bigger than him, so it’s not easy work for sure. It only takes a few steps to get there but it’s hard when it’s a wasted person we’re talking about here.
It’s hard, especially when he needed to take care of the part where he told Minghao to let go of his arms because he wanted to dance, and also where he just began bursting into tears out of nowhere. He would also refuse to cooperate then sit on the floor.
Minghao didn’t mind, though.
He loves Mingyu, so he never did.
Mingyu blinked a few times.
“You’re awake?”
He rubbed his eyes, nodding his head slowly. He’s covered in a warm blanket, cuddled up with Minghao. His shirt no longer smelled like his intoxicants. It took him a few moments to realize that the man lying next to him already changed it into pajamas.
“What time is it?”
“It’s almost 3 AM.” He replied. “I thought you’d be sleeping til the morning.”
“I see…”
Mingyu’s whole body felt sore. He was glued to the bed throughout the week, with his feet hanging on the edge. He was never proud of his work to begin with, but the hatred he felt towards pictures of flowers he hung on the wall was far stronger than before. He left his laptop open all night, staring emptily at the portfolio he hasn’t finished working on. Everything made his head spin but he can’t leave his room. He can’t move, can’t look up, can’t keep his head buried in the pillow. Everything suffocates him.
He would just step outside for a refill. He didn’t even know what he was swallowing anymore. Vodka, whiskey, beer─ not that he cared anymore.
But this afternoon, he stepped outside to dial the number he’s been avoiding.
“Sorry that I caused you a lot of trouble again.”
Mingyu knew that Minghao wouldn’t want to hear that, but those words slipped out of his mouth automatically.
“Say, Mingyu.”
“Hm?”
“What about coming to my place tomorrow? You can stay as long as you want.” Minghao said. “Once you’ve completely sobered up, get the stuff you want to bring. We can leave this morning if you want to.”
There’s a bitter taste with a dash of sweet on Mingyu’s tongue. A twinge of guilt and a sprinkle of joy.
“I’m not good at it but I’ll whip up something for lunch and dinner. You can have cereal for breakfast.” He explained further. “I’m getting better at cooking, you know. You should see it with your own eyes. Just don’t send harsh critiques, I’m still learning.”
Mingyu giggled.
“Will we be having one of your wines too for dinner?”
“I'm afraid I ran out of them. How about hot chocolates?”
Disappointed, Mingyu pouted in result.
“I don’t really like those…” He said. “And I thought we agreed to take it slow...”
“I’ll add cinnamon and a splash of rum then. Fair enough?”
Mingyu smiled sheepishly, satisfied.
“Fair enough.”
Minghao chuckled at how Mingyu pursed his lips. He’s still far from being his usual self, but Minghao is glad that he’s starting to snuggle with Minghao like he always does. Minghao always wanted to show Mingyu that he doesn’t really need alcohol to keep himself warm, when the truth is his tight embrace's just one call away. Mingyu is slowly getting a grasp of the concept and he'll never stop helping him learn.
“Hao.”
Minghao raised an eyebrow. He stopped all movements─including his hands that were caressing Mingyu’s dark hair because he asked Minghao to shower him with attention─put his complete focus on what Mingyu was about to say.
“Yes?”
“Let’s go back to sleep." Mingyu asked. “And don’t stop stroking my hair.”
Minghao flashed another sincere smile.
“Sure. Okay to both, pup.”
“Also... there’s one more thing.”
“And what might that be?”
Mingyu pulled Minghao closer, caging him in a tight hug. He hid his face on Minghao’s shoulders. He was vulnerable but not always this vulnerable. Minghao felt so warm that he could burst into tears anytime, and he didn’t want him to see or worry.
“Promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?”
Too late, though. Minghao understood the things he didn’t say loud and clear.
He reassured Mingyu once again by planting a soft kiss on his forehead.
“I promise.”
Minghao often thought that maybe it would be better if things aren’t like the way they are now.
Maybe they shouldn’t have refused to obey when forced to fit into the mold people prepared them for. Maybe, if it was that way, tears won’t be strolling down their cheeks each night. Just like the water that runs from the sink in the backyard where Minghao used to draw flowers and mowed lawns as a child. Just like the excited dogs Mingyu met on the way home from school, which he took pictures of and wrote about in his journal when he was barely fourteen. Maybe, if it’s really that easy to detach oneself from the young child they used to be, they would have it easier.
It’s not easy for them to pay bills, but at least it’s easy for them to find love.
It’s somewhere in the crooked edges of Mingyu’s floral tablecloth. It’s somewhere in the low-priced silverware, in the boiling broth he prepared for both of them, in the meals they’re about to share together.
It’s somewhere in the crooked edges of Minghao’s smile. It’s somewhere in the way his eyes squints as he laughs, in the damaged ends of his dyed hair, in the tranquility he let Mingyu wallow in.
The night sky is made of numerous broken dreams, including his and Mingyu’s. So does the ground they step on and the air they breathe in. But Minghao is always there to hold Mingyu when it’s hard to just exist and vice versa.
He’s going to love Mingyu like this; casually and silently through their countless maybes and ifs.