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Sunlight floods your kitchen as the pot boils, a smile crosses your face with serenity in tow.
You were at peace, the rough months and urgent move behind you. Delicate fingers cross over your bicep, a soft voice hangs in the air. "Ramyun?" you hear the smile.
"Of course my love," a smile tugs at the edges of your face. Fingers reach hers in a tender embrace, sparkles dot her eyes.
The wisps of stars in the safety of the night sky.
The noodles bubble in the pot drawing you back. "Extras?" She offers, clasping a knife in her hand.
"Yeah, I'd love some extras," you press a kiss into her brow, a giggle leaves her lips. Something escapes your lips before you can even think.
"You're the love of my life," her smile widens at your words, crescent moon eyes and you can't help but think about how you'd give her the world. The sails of your heart filled with the winds of her love.
She pulls you closer, a sweet, soft embrace. "You're the love of my life," her words echo, repeated back at you, a cute smile dots her lips. "You're the extras to my ramyun."
A dark apartment, cold and isolated. A single light illuminated the kitchen, the amber light showing its age, flickering slightly. A temporary abode nothing more.
Yet you couldn't ignore the broken glass or the years of smoke build-up greasing the roof, an ugly dark brown marring what was once probably a shade of white.
Damaged facilities aside, it was a temporary stop on your endless journey. A temporary reprieve to remind you of where you could fall and how far you'd flown.
Steam spills into your vision, stupid noodles. It'd been six months since you'd broken up, yet the good memories stained your mind, raspberry on a white carpet.
You separate the noodles from the broth, you tear apart the sachets that came with the packet. An embroiled mess of colour as you mix the ingredients.
Extras? The thought dots your mind with her voice, should you add egg, green onion or even bacon? Blessings you'd learn to live without, after all, ramyun didn't need the extras to be special.
At least that's what you told yourself, even if you missed the extra comfort.
Your chopsticks twist and weave as your mix the noodles into the mixture, absorbing the spicy flavourful mixture. A concoction you never knew the contents of. Air leaves your nose as your mouth grasps at the sustenance. Warmth enveloped your insides, quenching a hunger you'd ignored up until now.
A reminder of simpler times.
Times you didn't want to remember, your feet pad across the ground as you rest in the lounge, a nicer room than the kitchen, not that it was high margin to beat. More of a reminder of the poverty you escaped growing up, a weak smile crosses your lips as your fingers turn on the tv, an old CRT monitor booms to life. A relic of an older age or a poorer neighbourhood, you needed the reminder.
You didn't wanna get soft, not like before.
Some mess of a sitcom dots your airwaves, peaceful white noise to escape your thoughts, to ignore the idea of Yoohyeon in your mind, creeping like a vine back into your heart. She made her decision and you should respect it.
And yourself.
But maybe, just maybe there was a reason you had returned to the city, the birthplace of your love, stricken away from the record.
You knew it wasn't fate, just a lot of happenstance, business trips, family and holidays, aligned like the planets for a cult's auspicious day. Yet as your tongue teases the edge of your teeth you can't help but think about her.
Her sweet smile teasing the edge of your brain with joy lost, her innocent giggle playing at the edge of your heart, a sweet beautiful melody.
You did your best to stifle it, focus on work, your friends but as you feel the texture of noodles pleasing your taste buds, you realised it was inevitable.
The echoing texture of joy and laughter.
You wondered how her family were doing? Did her mother still struggle with her ageing car? The one that struggled on a cold winter's morning. Would it be wrong to turn up out of the blue and replace it? A gesture of goodwill for the woman that treated you like family?
No, it was better to avoid those thoughts, to avoid the idea of Yoohyeon altogether, yet it stained your mind like the roof of your sobering abode.
Did she still think about you? Did she regret her decisions, did she still wish to hold you close against the stars in the sky, to never let go even in the darkest coldest abyss.
Probably not.
Thinking like that would only weaken you, yet... Your fingers are already searching on social media, you'd blocked her when things went south. A move to absolve any pain you'd bring to yourself at the mere sight of her.
Her name, forbidden among your friends.
Hesitancy lines the seams of your soul as you press enter, regret pooling in the fabric of your heart, staining your resolve. Your eyes dart away from the cursed object in your hand, a brand of weakness searing its blue light into your environment.
Even still temptation lurked in the corners, you prayed, she still thought of you, that there was some semblance that your love wasn't lost. That your love for her at least still mattered, that she still thought of you.
A hidden strength covers the screen from your purview, the phone tossed aside saving you from another moment of weakness. You only had to stay on the straight and narrow for a couple more days, then there would be no more temptation.
Yet, sorrow pulls in the bottom of your heart, longing clawing at your lungs as your breath becomes shallow, you fight as hard as you can to focus on the sitcom in front of you.
Your brain shifts to the alcohol in your fridge, well not your fridge but you got the point. A bad habit to navigate the storm in your brain, a problem you didn't to face, let alone acknowledge.
Your fingers tense against the worn leather seat, you hear something clatter to the floor.
A vibrating noise. The dull thrum booming in your ear, despite all the white noise.
Your heart sank at the noise, worry etches into your breathing, a tightened grip of a knot. Your mind skips straight to her like stone against a river, you had no reason to think it was her.
Six months no contact and yet your instincts never lead you astray as your eyes scan the caller ID. Your breathing hitches at the white text.
Kim Yoohyeon, the love of your life.
Slick wheels connect with concrete, the rain peppers your horizon, yet all you can feel is the bass boom around you, as your vehicle spins to life. A nice car wasn't something you particularly cared about, but without someone else to spend your money on? It couldn't be helped, cool air floods your lungs as your window bows to you.
The highway, your companion, as thoughts mulled around the paddock of your mind, excitement and anxiety clashed viciously like wolves over the last bite. The love of your life and your ultimate wound.
Your brain strays for a moment, contemplating what your car would sound like if it hit the barrier.
An intrusive thought, you swat it off with a deep breath. One of your last bastions weakening under the pressure. All the what-ifs dot your mind dangerously.
Hope was a dangerous virile beast you wanted to avoid. Your breath hitches slightly as your grip tightens, your fingers clasp around a water bottle, something to distract you even for a moment.
You were stronger now, yet you worried about buckling under her gaze, her sweet star-like eyes. Honey against your soul even with your jaded shell.
What splashes against your lips, loose drops splash onto your phone, shifting your playlist away from the dark isolating bass to smoother jams from a simpler time.
A playlist you should've deleted.
The soft hum of the bass guitar is a memento of the love you had, smiles dot your soul even if they're bitter now. Laughter fills the air and your own lungs as she spins under your guidance.
Flour sprinkled on her nose as her smile meets yours. Your kitchen, the heart of the happy moments.
Casio, playing on my heart just like a casio
The burnt remains, remain ignored as you hold Yoohyeon close, your bodies swaying to the sweet pleasing rhythms.
You didn't learn until recently that it was a breakup song.
Breaking it apart so you can let it go
Wait another year, that's not original
Or cynical, alright, let's go now
A kiss pressed into the corner of your chin, you can feel her sweet smile. Your heart swells even as she follows up with a barrage of flour. A chuckle escapes your lips, a mess for later.
"I think I might love you more now that you're covered in flour," she teases, the same loving smirk. A pleasant sight.
A hellish reminder.
Your smile drops and you see worry flow into her eyes. But all you could think about is how much you love her. Even as flour highlights the crinkle in her nose as you kiss her. The way the sun competes to be the most radiant thing in your life.
It fails miserably against her.
Your brain snaps back to the call, her voice a mess of dragged syllables and misplaced words. Even hidden amongst the forest of anxiety in your soul, even as she struggles to form a sentence, her voice alone causes your heart to race, to contemplate the what-ifs. To imagine a future with her again.
All you can think about is how you still love her.
You'd spent days, weeks, maybe even months contemplating what you'd do if she ever called if she ever begged for you back.
Though you hoped it was an inevitability, you knew in your heart that it was a pipedream. A respite, shelter against the ageing grind of existence.
Yet, here you were, running to aid her like a knight in shining armour. The wounds of the passed mostly ignored, even if they clawed at your soul constantly.
No, you played your part like an instrument, like a tool. You had your uses, it just happened to be anything for her.
The light pattering of rain brings you back, your foot relaxes against the pedal. Your speedometer, a higher number than you felt comfortable with.
"I'm sorry," her voice, a distant distorted echo in the recesses of your mind. Your hands shaking, your deep breathing asking, begging for your heart to settle. Nothing but, wisps and dust in the sections of your mind better left unvisited.
Your car comes to rest underneath a neon glow, Boogie Wonderland. At least that's what it was called. Inferno, the bearer who wore the tacky dingy club as a suit.
The same ugly shag carpet dotted your approach. The bouncer waves you in, a friend from a different time in your life. A flick of your eyebrows and he sends you a smile.
Ancient music poured through aged speakers. No doubt a song that was around for the conception of Neon.
Every step forward is liberating, refreshing even. Future possibilities span out in front of you like fractured glass, too bad pain was on the table too. One bad move, one misspoken word would spell the end.
You hated that part of you hoped for the best. Eyes scanning across reflective glass, it'd only been six months since your break up.
Why did it feel like centuries instead? Your eyes, jaded and stained by pain, fingers running through your hair you spot her.
You hate how your breath hitches at the sight of her. Her eyes are vacant as her finger traces the edge of her shot glass, a frown cracked into her beautiful face and a listless sigh.
Even under the garish neon lights, even in her current state, she'd still win against the sun.
No challenge.
Your eyebrows quirk slightly, her hair a calm brown. You were remiss to think she'd stay stagnant, stay blonde. Your heart dips slightly, hesitation crawls under your skin.
This wasn't a good idea, she just needed a ride. That was all. You were the one believing in make-believe fairytales and happy endings. Thinking she'd still care about you even after all this time.
That she'd still love you like she once did, that you were still the extras to her Ramyun.
Ramyun didn't need extras and you knew it.
She spots you before the anxiety can take a hold of you. A weird thrill tumbles with reflective anger and hate. Disdain and fear line your lungs, breathing exercises dot your brain.
In and out.
In and out.
Your expression holds like steel as you approach her. You hadn't noticed her surprise until now, her fingers quickly rush to her phone. Her eyes shift between you and her phone, a light chuckle lines her lips.
Her words, a jumble, slurred edges like a Slurpee. "I know, I'm just as surprised as you are." she mumbles something else that you can't quite make out or translate .
She hadn't talked to you ever since you split. Something you did your best to uphold, even through moments of weakness.
She smiles and you feel your knees go weak, even though they stay rooted in place. Your expression, strong and firm, not budging even an inch towards your true feelings.
She was too preoccupied to notice or she refused to acknowledge it. She attempts to stand up, perhaps in a bid to get even more alcohol. Regardless, she stumbles more than you'd like, arm snaking around her waist in an instant.
"Yooh, how much have you had to drink?" A fraction of worry makes itself at home in your voice. The nickname flows from your lips with the ease of a waterfall. Before you can correct yourself, she shifts and stumbles, her head resting in the crook of your neck as she counts her fingers.
To the best of her ability.
Her fingers show eight, "Six." You fight the urge to laugh and tease her. An easy closeness that was only foreign to you now. Though your lips still quirk upwards slightly.
You try your best to ignore how close she is, the smell of bourbon painted her breath. You were surprised she was still standing, well maybe not standing, but she was still conscious. An impressive feat for the lightweight.
Her smile widens but all you can think about is ignoring her lips. "Impressed?" A light chuckle follows. "I remembered your number Ramyun, despite all the shots."
Ramyun, that certainly was a new one.
Her eyes cross over yours and you feel your defences faltering. A curt nod, as you turn your face away. "Where am I dropping you off?"
Your words, weaker than you'd like. You couldn't do this, you hated being here. Well, hate was a strong word, you just abhorred all the pain that was swept under the rug. Conversating like nothing went wrong between the two of you.
You wished the both of you never broke up. You'd abandon every foothold of strength you'd gained in her absence. You'd chisel at your skin to remove the jaded shell you'd become.
"Could we get some Ramyun at least? For old times sakes," her voice softer, more focused, less slurred. Her eyes, earnest.
You falter.
Raw fluorescent white burns into your weakened eyes. You didn't expect a noodle bar to be so dangerous to your eyes. Granted you also didn't have eating ramyun with Yoohyeon on your itinerary.
The silence between the two of you is deafening as you eat, you fight your own thoughts, focusing on the girl in front of you. Fewer smiles and giggles, eyes solely focused on the noodles in front of her.
You slowly make peace with the whole situation. Until she captures your attention with a light cough. Hesitancy lurked in the back of her eyes. "How come, you didn't get any extras?"
A harmless question.
Not really.
You roll your tongue over your teeth, "ramyun doesn't need extras to be special."
Similar to something you used to tell yourself. It was true.
"I don't think I could live without extras with my ramyun," your heart soars at the implications. Even if it wasn't within the realm of reality. She pauses slightly, prying her egg in half with chopsticks.
Something you loved about her was her odd chopstick grip, it was unique and so, well, her.
You didn't expect her to move half her egg into your bowl. Something she typically reserved only for herself.
"What's this?" You cock an eyebrow, eyes scrutinizing every beautiful detail in her face.
A trick, a trap or a regret?
You search desperately for the signal that everything was gonna collapse. That this was a fever dream, or a trap or something. Her fingers trace your chin with the softest touch, scared that any rough movement would scare you away.
Worry and hope mixed in her eye, desperation, longing as her thumb caresses your cheek. A soft, weak, bittersweet smile etches onto her face as you grasp the hand caressing your cheek, pulling it closer.
The words leave your mouth before you can even think, "Casio, playing on my heart just like a Casio."
Your heart races like a greyhound, worry carved into your anxious soul.
Her smile deepens as she pulls closer forehead resting against hers. The bitter ropy fragrance of bourbon is like nicotine to your veins. Her grin ignites an old forgotten bonfire in your heart. Tender and sweet is the moment your lips meet.
There were no fireworks, instead, it was natural like the birds and the bees. Like the air and the sea, it was simply meant to be. You feel a smile as she presses a kiss into your jaw.
You kiss her eyebrow, as happiness envelopes her soul and you can't help but giggle when you hear one simple word.
"Extras?"