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“I’m in trouble,” Hao says as the call connects.
He doesn’t hear an immediate response, just the rustling of sheets and a yawn. “What?”
“I’m in trouble!” Hao repeats, raising his voice.
“Hao, it’s like six in the morning,” Gyuvin says on the other end of the line followed by another yawn. “On a Saturday.”
“I’m going to die, I swear. No! Hanbin is going to kill me.”
“What?” Gyuvin repeats, still stunned. Hao hisses, desperate. He counts to ten to calm himself before answering.
“Do you remember the promise ring Hanbin gave me on our trip to Thailand?”
“Yeah, you never take it off. What’s wrong with it?” Gyuvin says, still not understanding.
“I lost it, I can’t find it anywhere.”
There is silence. Hao can imagine Gyuvin processing the information. “Fuck,” Gyuvin says, more awake now.
“Exactly,” Hao says through clenched teeth.
The question is, how did all this happen?
Hao’s first thought upon waking up was that something was wrong. He didn’t know exactly what, but he had a strange feeling that something was going on, and it had nothing to do with the empty bed beside him. He rubbed his eyes, stretched, and instinctively reached for his ring finger.
Empty.
The sleepiness was gone instantly. He sat up suddenly, frantically checking his hand. He himself can’t answer the question because he never takes off his ring unless absolutely necessary. He went to dinner with some friends from work, came home, was greeted with a kiss by Hanbin, took a shower and changed into his pajamas, and immediately fell asleep because he was so tired. But he woke up without his ring! And there is no memory in Hao’s mind of him taking it off. The situation is funny, except it isn’t.
“Wait, wait,” Gyuvin speaks. “What do you mean, you lost it? Where?”
Hao runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “If I knew where, I would have it!”
Hanbin goes out for a run every morning, which gave Hao a chance to search the room and the bathroom. He checked everywhere, on the bed, under it, on his nightstand, on Hanbin’s, on the sofa in their room, and nothing. He ran to the bathroom, checked the sink, the shower, even the trash, and again, nothing.
The ring wasn’t cheap, okay? It was a gift from Hanbin on his trip to Thailand for their fourth anniversary. The trip wasn’t cheap either. Plus, even if it was a piece of wire wrapped around, Hao would still take pretty good care of it since it was Hanbin who gave it to him. But, he feels even more stressed and embarrassed because it was expensive, and apparently he didn’t take that good care of it!
“Is Hanbin there?”
“He went out for a run, but he’ll be here any minute,” Hao sits up in bed, already imagining the disappointment on Hanbin’s face when he finds out Hao lost the ring.
“Okay,” Gyuvin says and stays quiet for a moment. Hao thinks he’s gone back to sleep. “Act normal and when Hanbin leaves for work, call me and I’ll go help you find it.”
“Really?” Gyuvin hums. “Thanks, I owe you one.”
“You owe me a lot, but yeah.”
Gyuvin hangs up and Hanbin chooses that exact moment to arrive. Hao panics a little― he grabs a hoodie from the closet and puts it on, it’s a little big and covers most of his fingers. He takes a deep breath and shifts several times in bed, trying to look as natural as possible.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Hanbin looks at him in surprise. Well, it’s Saturday, he doesn’t have work, and he’s bad in the mornings, his plan was to wake up at noon at the earliest.
“I wanted to make you breakfast,” Hao says. He loves Hanbin very much, but it’s not true, he knows it himself, because he looks at him with slight doubt for a second, but then smiles.
“That’s very nice of you,” he gives him a short kiss on the lips, not bringing any other part of his body too close, still sweaty and sticky from the morning exercise. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Yeah, I’m… going to make breakfast,” he smiles and runs out of the room even before Hanbin enters the bathroom. If Hanbin gives him a strange look, Hao doesn’t notice.
Hao feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest. He has to act normal, as if he’s not on the verge of a breakdown, he can’t let Hanbin suspect anything. He arrives at the kitchen and thinks about preparing something simple, but sufficient. Normal. Calm. Like every day. He concentrates on the pan with scrambled eggs in front of him, while the coffee is brewing in the coffee maker and the buns are in the toaster.
He hears the bedroom door open and Hanbin’s footsteps approaching. Hao straightens his back, smiling when his boyfriend appears in the kitchen, already dressed for work.
“It smells really good,” Hanbin comments while he walks over and wraps his arms around Hao’s waist from behind. Hao almost tenses up, but forces himself to relax and laugh softly.
“And it will smell better if you let me finish,” Hanbin laughs too, resting his chin on Hao’s shoulder for a second before letting go and taking a seat at the table.
Hao serves the dishes and sits across from him, sipping his coffee with apparent calm. Breakfast happens with light chatter about the day Hanbin has ahead. Hao nods, responds in short sentences, and laughs at the right moments, but his mind remains stuck on the ring. Finally, Hanbin looks at the time on his phone.
“I have to go.”
Hanbin puts the dishes in the sink and grabs his stuff. Hao stands up next to him, following him to the door with his hands nervously behind his back. Hanbin turns and looks at him with a smile before leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he says softly. “See you later.”
“Have a nice day,” Hanbin gives him one last smile and heads out the door.
The door closes, and Hao waits a minute to let out the breath he’s been holding. He leans against the door and runs a hand over his face. Now he can really panic again.
He has to find that ring before it’s too late.
Gyuvin arrives an hour later. He still looks sleepy and his hair is still messy from waking up so early. Hao momentarily feels bad for him. But Gyuvin was the one who offered to help, so there’s no problem.
“Tell me you found it,” is the first thing Gyuvin says when he walks in. Hao looks at him with narrowed eyes.
“If I had found it, you wouldn’t be here,” Hao says with an obvious tone and Gyuvin sighs.
“Okay, let’s go find it.”
For the next few minutes, the two of them begin searching, scouring the living room like detectives at a crime scene. They search every corner of the apartment― the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, even the laundry area. They turn over cushions, check under furniture, and remove every suspicious object. And still, the ring is nowhere to be found.
“This is impossible,” Hao complains, clearly desperate. “If it’s not here, then what? Did it disappear off the face of the Earth?”
Gyuvin, who was crouching down sifting through shoes at the entrance, straightens up and sighs.
“We already searched the whole house, are you sure you checked your room thoroughly?” Hao glares at him.
“Obviously! It was the first place I checked.”
“Yes, but,” Gyuvin gestures with his hands, “maybe you were so upset that you missed something. Come on, one last time.”
They both go back to the room and start from scratch. Gyuvin checks the nightstand, the drawers, looks under the bed, the couch again. Hao walks over to the closet and checks the pockets of his clothes, the basket, more drawers. Nothing.
“I’m dead. Hanbin is going to notice I don’t have it and…”
“Oh, wait,” Gyuvin’s voice makes him look up.
“What? Did you find it?” Hao asks hopefully. Gyuvin is leaning over the bed, a small white envelope in his hands.
Hao frowned. “What is that?”
“An envelope, duh,” Gyuvin replies and Hao stops himself from punching him in the face. “It was under the pillow.”
“That wasn’t there.”
"You’re sure?"
“Gyuvin! I checked under the pillow at least three times!”
Gyuvin gives him a meaningful look and hands him the envelope. He tears the edge and pulls out a folded note. He quickly unfolds it and reads the handwritten words: Find the place where we first spoke.
Silence fills the room while Hao blinks, stunned. Gyuvin leans over to read over his shoulder, then clicks his tongue. “Well… this got interesting.”
“What is this?” Hao asks, still looking at the note.
“I’ve done my job here,” Gyuvin says, walking towards the door. “It’s up to you to figure out the rest.”
“What do you mean?” Hao asks another question, but Gyuvin continues walking without saying anything.
“Good luck,” is all he says before he leaves the apartment, leaving Hao alone, with the note in hand, and a thousand more questions.
Hao wants to laugh at how funny this is. First he loses his ring and now they have him playing Blue’s Clues. He doesn’t think much about it while he heads to his room to get ready and go out.
Where will he go? Matthew’s house.
It was five years ago, but Hao remembers it like it was yesterday. He had only been in South Korea for a short time, having just moved to a new country to finish his master’s degree in education. He met Ricky, then blond, who was in medicine, Gyuvin, in financial accounting, and Matthew, in sports science. He remembers Matthew’s house —at that time he lived in a small apartment with Hanbin— which always smelled the same, a mix of old wood and freshly made coffee.
After final exams and before everyone left for vacation, they organized a movie night. That night is clear in Hao’s memory― a huge, overstuffed L-shaped couch they got at a garage sale, a white sheet hanging on the wall, and Ricky’s projector, and amidst laughter and arguments about which movie to watch, they ended up sitting together.
He arrives at Matthew’s house, rings the doorbell and waits. The door creaks open and Matthew appears, smiling knowingly at him.
“I was expecting you,” Matthew says by way of greeting, leaning against the door frame.
Hao frowns. “Do you have anything to do with this?”
Matthew shrugs, stepping aside to let him pass.
It’s not the small apartment anymore, Matthew has a much nicer one now. Still, a sort of déjà vu hits Hao while he enters. The smell of wood lingers, there’s a different colored and better kept L-shaped couch in the living room and a large TV on the wall. Matthew guides him to the coffee table, where a pink note rests next to a blanket.
“A couch, a blanket, and a movie. It was the first time we actually talked and I felt like I had met my soulmate.”
It wasn’t the first time that they met in a place, but that night was different. That was the first time they really talked. Sitting on the couch, sharing the same blanket, with a movie playing in the background that neither of them ended up paying attention to. They wrapped themselves in the same blanket without realizing it and they talked as if they had known each other all their lives, as if fate had waited for that exact moment to bring them together.
Hanbin likes to say that they are soulmates. Hao thinks so too.
“There’s something else for you,” Matthew hands him a white envelope.
Hao opens it immediately. Inside, there is a second note: Look for something that light you in the darkness.
He looks at Matthew, who just shrugs again. “Looks like you have a path to follow. Good luck.”
With the note in hand and an idea of the place, Hao leaves Matthew’s house.
His mind travels to the first birthday present Hanbin gave him when they were dating. He’s never liked the dark, and Hanbin realized that the first time he slept over at his house. Even though they’d been together for almost a year, it was always Hao who stayed over at Hanbin’s house. He was about to graduate from his master and college was closer. If Hao slept with Hanbin’s arms around him, he could ignore and forget that the room was dark.
Without saying anything, Hanbin realized his little liking for the darkness, judging by his lit lamp on the nightstand and his curtains that let in the light from outside. Hanbin didn’t make fun of him —well, he did a little— and on his birthday he gave him a full moon shaped lamp. He even bought a lamp for his own nightstand to turn on the nights they slept together. At that moment, Hao felt it was the greatest act of love.
And also, he remembers very well where Hanbin got it from.
The bell above the door rings while Hao enters the shop. Yujin stands near the entrance and smiles at him when he sees him. Hao looks at him with narrowed eyes before approaching.
“I’m glad you came,” he says, not hiding the emotion in his voice.
“How many people are involved in this?”
“That’s not the important thing,” Yujin replies amusedly. “Come with me.”
Yujin leads him down the halls to the section where the lamps are, including the moon shaped ones. Gunwook is there too, standing there with a smile. Great, another one. He moves to stand next to Yujin, revealing a pink post-it stuck to one of the lamp boxes. Hao takes it and reads it quietly.
“I wanted to light up your world, because you already lit up mine.”
Heat rises in his chest and cheeks. He can hear Gunwook and Yujin’s barely disguised laughter. He sighs, folding the post-it carefully and putting it in his jacket pocket, and Gunwook hands him another envelope. Hao opens it immediately: Look for a place you go when you’re sick.
He lets out a low laugh. “Oh, I know where I have to go.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
Hao smiles and walks out of the store.
He doesn’t have to think about it too much, he knows for sure where to go. The hospital.
It’s not like it’s a place he goes too often, but there’s one memory in particular that fits the clue perfectly. On their second anniversary, they planned a special dinner, but Hanbin ended up suddenly getting sick. At first, he insisted it was just the flu, but when his fever rose dangerously, Hao rushed him to the ER. They spent hours in the waiting room until he was finally attended.
It turned out that he had gastroenteritis, and Hao took care of him for the next week. He stayed with him, making sure he took his medicine, ate well, and rested. Even when Hanbin, in the middle of a feverish episode, ended up throwing up on him.
Upon arrival, the cold and clinical atmosphere of the hospital greets him with its distinctive scent of disinfectant. He doesn’t have to walk far down when a familiar voice calls out to him.
“Hao,” he turns around and sees Jiwoong, dressed in his scrubs and robe.
“Let me guess,” Hao says, crossing his arms. “You’re on this too.”
Jiwoong just smiles. “I’m not going to answer that. But come here, someone is waiting for you.”
Hao follows him to a break room where Ricky is waiting for him with an amused expression.
“It took you longer than I thought,” Ricky says, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s not like I get cryptic clues every day,” Hao replies sarcastically.
Ricky laughs and hands him a small packet of vitamins. Hao takes it with a confused look until he notices that there is a note wrapped around the packet. He carefully unfolds the paper and reads the words written on it.
“Even though I threw up on you, you stayed with me and took care of me. In sickness and in health, that’s what they say, right?”
His heart starts pounding in his chest. At that moment, Hanbin was weak and embarrassed, but Hao never hesitated to stay with him. Because, somehow, he already knew― Hanbin is someone he would never want to leave behind. In sickness and in health. Hao wants to tear his hair out right then and there.
“Here’s your next clue,” Ricky hands him another envelope. “And don’t forget to tell me how it all happens.”
Hao quickly opens the envelope: Look for the place where we said the most emotional 'I love you'.
For a moment, his mind travels to different moments in which they had said 'I love you' to each other. Whispers before going to sleep, promises in the middle of routine, spontaneous confessions that arose without the need for a special occasion. But there is one that stands out, one that he can still feel deep in his chest...
Cheonan. At Hanbin’s parents’ house.
Hao doesn’t waste any time. He leaves the hospital and gets into his car, setting off on the two-hour drive to Cheonan, his heart pounding ever faster in his chest.
They had been together for three and a half years, a long time that almost went down the drain. Hanbin went to his parents’ house, convinced that Hao would be better off without him. They didn’t fight, nor argued, but Hao noticed the way Hanbin closed himself off, how he avoided talking about what he really felt. Until one day, without warning, he left.
“I need time.”
That was the only thing he left in his message. Hao gave him space. Not because he didn’t care, but because he understood that sometimes Hanbin needed to face his own demons without pressure.
But as the days passed and time stretched into weeks, Hao knew it was enough. That night, he drove two hours to Cheonan under a starless sky, knocked on Hanbin’s parents’ door, and when Hanbin came out, his eyes tired and the weight of his thoughts on his shoulders, Hao just hugged him.
There was no recrimination. There was no anger, though Hao was prepared to scream in Hanbin’s face how much he loved him, and that he would continue to do so, no matter what. He loves Hanbin, more than anything in the world.
Hao gets out of the car and walks to the front door of Hanbin’s parents’ house, rings the doorbell and waits. It’s not long before he hears footsteps on the other side, and is greeted with a warm smile while the door opens.
“Sweetheart,” Hanbin’s mother says tenderly. “Come in.”
Without waiting another second, Hao walks in and is immediately greeted by the familiar aroma of baked cookies and freshly made coffee. The house is welcoming, with its usual warmth and a homey feel that hasn’t changed over the years.
“Sit down,” she says, leading him to the dining table. “You must be tired after the trip.”
“A little,” Hao admits while he settles into the chair.
She sets a hot cup of coffee in front of him along with a plate of golden and crispy cookies. “I baked them this morning.”
The sweet and buttery taste brings him some comfort, even though his heart is pounding with anticipation.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely.
“You’re welcome, honey,” the woman smiles and hands him an envelope. “This is for you.”
Hao takes it with steady hands, but when he opens it and begins to read the note inside, he feels something in his chest gently crack.
“You made me understand that you would love me in all my forms. At my most vulnerable moment, you took my hand and decided not to let go.”
The warmth in his chest expands, and he suddenly feels the need to see Hanbin. To tell him, once again, that there is not a single day that he doubts his love for him. The silence in Hanbin’s parents’ house feels different now. Like the air is thicker, more charged with emotions that Hao can’t quite name.
Before he can say anything, his gaze falls on a small box on the table. He recognizes the box immediately, it’s from the ring Hanbin gave him. He reaches out, taking the box, and feels its familiar texture, the softness of velvet beneath his fingers.
But, the ring is not there.
Instead, there is only a small, carefully folded piece of paper: Look for me in the sea.
With his heart pounding, Hao raises his face and looks at Hanbin’s mother smiling softly at him.
“My son loves you very much, even though you already know that,” she says. “And I know that you fervently return that love. That gives me peace.”
There’s a lump in his throat, and he doesn’t know how to respond without starting to cry. So he just hugs her and sinks into the motherly, loving feeling.
“Hao,” another person calls, and Hao pulls away from the hug. Standing by the entrance to the dining room is Taerae. “Your carriage is ready,” Hao lets out a watery laugh.
He walks behind Taerae without saying anything, and gets in the car the same way. He lets the soft sound of the radio envelop the car, his mind filling with thoughts that take him back to all the moments they’ve shared.
Five years of knowing each other.
Four years of being together. Of laughter, of long nights and lazy mornings. Of soft words and shouts in the middle of arguments that they always managed to resolve. Of days when everything seemed easy and others when love was a conscious decision to continue choosing each other. Four years of loving Hanbin with everything he has.
And now, at this very moment, Hao knows with absolute certainty that he will continue to choose him for the rest of his life.
He remembers the trip to their fourth anniversary. It was a dream of both of them to go to Thailand, and at the most convenient opportunity, they managed to go. They stayed near the beach, and if it was for Hao, he would never have left it. He is a summer boy, he likes the water, swimming, feeling the sand under his feet.
One night, the waves crashing against the shore while they walked along the sand, Hao’s laughter while Hanbin tried to dodge a wave and ended up soaked anyway. The reflection of the moon on the water’s surface while Hanbin took out the small promise ring box and held it between his fingers, a nervous smile on his face.
“It’s not a proposal or anything. I just want you to know that I plan to stay. That this is real for me.”
Hao remembers feeling his heart melt at that moment.
“It’s always been real to me.”
Now he understands why Hanbin guided him through all those memories. Reminding him of who they are, what they’ve built. Reminding him, without words, of what comes next.
“We’re here,” Taerae snaps him out of his thoughts. He has a calm smile, giving him the support he doesn’t really need.
“Thank you,” Hao whispers, before getting out of the car.
The sea wind crashes against his skin, the sound of the waves filling the space around him. He looks around, searching, and then he sees him, standing on the shore, the water kissing his bare feet, Hanbin waiting for him.
There is not a single hesitation in Hao. He walks, then runs, until he is in front of him. Hanbin smiles, with that soft look that Hao knows so well.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Hanbin asks in a calm tone, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Hao’s first thought is “I want to kill him.” He almost collapses because of the ring! It made him turn the house upside down and then right it again, searching for something he never lost. But that thought is gone quickly, more focused on what comes next, something electric expanding in his chest.
“No, there’s still something missing,” he says quietly.
Hanbin slides a hand into his pocket and pulls out something small. A new box. He opens it, and there, glistening in the sun light, is the ring. But not the promise ring. A different one, a better one.
“When I met you, I never imagined that five years later I would be standing here in front of you with a ring in my hand,” he says with a shaky smile. “But the more time passed, the more I learned about you, the clearer it became to me that I don’t want a single day without you.”
Hao feels his chest loosen. Hanbin continues, his voice firmer this time but with a glint of excitement in his eyes.
“We’ve been through so much together. Happy times, hard times… Even when I walked away from you, you never stopped choosing me. You never stopped loving me, even when I didn’t know how to love myself.”
“Hanbin…” Tears threaten to fall.
“Every day with you is a gift, and there’s no one else I’d rather share my life with. So…” Hanbin takes a deep breath, and then, “Will you marry me?”
The air seems to stop, the water seems to stop moving. The whole world is reduced to Hanbin, to his sincere gaze, to the promise he holds in his hand.
Hao has known this for a long time. There is nothing in the world he wants more than to spend the rest of his life with Hanbin. His lips part to answer, but something in his chest overwhelms him― a lump in his throat, a surge of emotion he can’t contain. He brings a hand to his mouth, stifling a sob.
Hanbin laughs softly, his eyes shining with excitement. Hao also laughs through his tears and shakes his head, taking a step forward.
“You’re an idiot,” his voice cracks.
“An idiot for asking you to marry me?”
“An idiot for making me cry before I could say yes,” Hanbin smiles. “And for taking the ring! I was close to losing my mind,” Hanbin lets out another laugh.
Hao closes the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Hanbin’s neck and hugging him tightly. He feels Hanbin exhale into his ear, his arms wrapping around him just as tightly, as if he’s holding too much inside himself as well.
“Yes,” Hao whispers against his shoulder. “Yes, Hanbin. I want to marry you.”
“Thank God,” he murmurs, squeezing him tighter. “I promise not to take this ring. Only on our wedding, to give you a new one.” Hao laughs and Hanbin follows, that soft, breathy laugh that comes out when he tries to contain his own excitement.
They stay like that for a moment, hugging each other on the seashore, feeling each other’s warmth, feeling how the weight of the years, of everything they have been through together, finally brings them here.
“Hanbin,” Hao whispers, receiving a hum in response. “The ring.”
“Oh, right!”
They break away from the hug, Hao briefly noticing Hanbin’s wet eyelashes. Hanbin takes the box back and opens it, taking the ring with shaking hands and, as gently as he can, slipping it onto Hao’s finger.
It fits perfectly, like it’s always been his. Hao looks at it for a moment, marveling at how simple and beautiful it is. Then he looks up and sees Hanbin smiling adoringly at him, and he knows that nothing, not even the ring, can compare to the love he sees reflected in his gaze.
“I love you,” Hanbin says. Hao takes his face in his hands, caressing his warm skin.
“I love you too.”
Then he kisses him, with the sea breeze enveloping them, with the waves testifying to their silent promise.