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Jonghyun sleeps a lot these days. He sleeps a lot and stays home more and barely moves some days. The smile that rarely flickers on his lips is a faded approximation of what used to linger there. It had begun after talking into that telephone, after he had fallen apart the way her toys do when she bites at them too often. She had gone over to nudge at his knee and when he picked her up and held her close, wet droplets had fallen from his face and winded into her fur. It was uncomfortable, his fingers were pressed too hard into her stomach but she understood he needed comfort.
When Kibum had come back later that day, and she had bounded up to him, tail wagging and tongue lolling out, Jonghyun had not looked up from his curled foetal position on the couch. She realized Jonghyun had stopped being able to see him. She finds it strange. And terribly sad.
Kibum looks different, his outline is vague and blurred, and his beautiful clear skin is stained with blotches of ugly red. There’s a jagged bruised line of crimson slashed across his forehead. And when he reaches out to her, his hands fall through her body.
Hey Roo he says, and his voice is floating and indistinct. At least you can see me.
But she still can’t reply him.
Do you think he’ll be okay? Kibum asks.
The question stays hovering in the air unanswered. He doesn’t know, and she doesn’t know either.
People come over way too often after that; bringing too much food, and too many words, and the exact same expression on their faces. The expression reminds her of that pug two doors down whose owners hardly ever come home. Jonghyun smiles at them, but the smile looks a little bit like a lie, a gash across his face like the one across Kibum’s forehead.
At night when he’s alone he doesn’t smile, instead he stares at the pictures of them framed up all over the apartment and tears roll silently down his cheeks. It’s more frightening than the wailing of that first day.
Kibum flutters around Jonghyun a lot, unseen. And it reminds her of that pretty butterfly in the park, and her attempts to chase it and Jonghyun’s laughter like music. Kibum tries to touch him, even though he knows better, tries to catch the teardrops, and each time his hand passes through Jonghyun’s skin, something glints in his flat eyes.
One night, Kibum just starts talking. He lies down on the bed beside Jonghyun, tilts his head as if to lean against Jonghyun’s shoulder and talks. Talks like he used to, like how she remembers he always did, his voice ringing through the house.
You need to stop moping, Kibum says. Although I have to admit this makes me feel glad, to know you loved me this much. When Kibum laughs it sounds like it’s coming from somewhere far far away. I know we planned for forever but life sucks. Death does too actually.
He reaches out with faded fingers to Jonghyun’s jaw. I really wish I could touch you.
Jonghyun just sleeps on, fitfully, Kibum’s name on his tongue, and Kibum tries to stroke his hair, something glittering like jewels on his eyelashes.
~-~
You should go out with Minho, you know. Like you used to. Kibum says when Jonghyun gets home early one Thursday. You used to go do some sports thing somewhere every week.
Jonghyun shrugs off his jacket and drapes it across the back of the couch.
‘Roo,’ he calls. And she comes running. When he lifts her up to his lap, his hands are shaking. ‘It’s six months today,’ he whispers. ‘Isn’t it so funny?’
‘I miss him.’ His voice cracks over the words and she nuzzles her head into the crook between his neck and chin.
I miss you too. Kibum says, unheard.
~-~
The tall one comes to visit sometimes, the one they call Minho. And sometimes he brings the one Kibum had said was the only one in the country prettier than him. She remembers they had all laughed at that. They talk to Jonghyun in voices that sound like the whimpering cries of hungry puppies. They are begging him for something. Jonghyun shakes his head a lot, talks about something called time, talks about something called space. One time the pretty one raises his voice. ‘It’s been almost a year!’
And Jonghyun screams. ‘Don’t you think I know?’ When he cries this time, it’s with gasping breaths and shaking shoulders and Kibum rushes over, wraps arms that cannot be felt around Jonghyun and cries tears into his hair. She howls along, because the hurt feels like lead in the air.
‘I’m sorry,’ the pretty one whispers. ‘I miss him too.’
Oh, Taemin, Kibum says. And the tears fall faster.
~-~
There’s a dark day when Jonghyun trips over the doorway smelling like things she calls evil. The things that Kibum says Jonghyun shouldn’t drink.
‘What do we do with you?’ The man she knows as Jinki says quietly. He supports Jonghyun to the couch, and helps him remove his shoes and socks.
‘Kibum?’ Jonghyun says, blindly reaching out.
‘Not Kibum,’ Jinki replies gently.
Kibum curls up in the seat next to Jonghyun and scrunches his nose. Don’t do this to yourself,’ he says, trying to touch fingertips over Jonghyun’s eyelids.
‘Kibum,’ Jonghyun says again. And he doubles over like a knife has been pushed into him. ‘It’s been two years.’
‘Kibum,’ he says again. Like he’s begging.
I’m here, Kibum says. I’m here.
~-~
It gets better.
One day, Jonghyun laughs at a joke on the radio, and it doesn’t sound like pain. One day, he whistles a tune without quite thinking about it. One night, he falls into sleep without tears staining his pillow and his face.
One day, he opens the wardrobe that holds Kibum’s clothes, grits his teeth and starts packing them up.
Kibum stops talking as much to Jonghyun after that happens.
I really want him to move on, Kibum mutters, fingers playing with the air above her fur. But I also really don’t. What if he falls in love again? Am I supposed to watch that? How am I supposed to watch that?
She hopes he won’t have to.
~-~
‘So you want to ask her out then,’ Minho says.
The expression on Kibum’s face reminds her of that first day after Jonghyun spoke on the telephone. That first day when he looked a little like her broken toys, the ones Jonghyun eventually threw away.
‘Yes,’ Jonghyun says. And he nods his head. From just behind him, Kibum gasps.
‘You might want to remove that first.’ Minho points at the silver band still sitting on the fourth finger of Jonghyun’s left hand. She remembers how Kibum had cried when Jonghyun had given it to him, remembers how Jonghyun had cried too. Remembers how they had done that thing that she doesn’t quite like to see, with mouths touching and tongues and no clothes. She shudders just thinking of it. They used to do it so much.
‘No!’ Jonghyun says, almost instantly.
No, Kibum says, almost at the same time.
‘I don’t think you’re ready yet,’ Minho says, patting Jonghyun’s hand. ‘It’s okay.’
~-~
When Minho leaves, Jonghyun looks up at the framed pictures of Kibum on the walls.
‘Forgive me,’ he says, and slides the ring off his finger. Kibum’s mouth opens in a soundless wail.
Then, he picks up the ring, opens the first drawer of the nightstand, and draws out the bag holding Kibum’s ring. ‘I’ll keep them on a chain,’ he says. ‘I’ll keep you in my heart, forever.’ When he touches his hands to his chest, Kibum reaches over too.
~-~
Jonghyun is wearing that special smell that he only puts on when it’s an important day.
He has a date today, Kibum says.
She remembers the first time Jonghyun had gotten a date with Kibum. He had chattered about him for the longest time, about the most stunning boy he’s ever seen, about how lucky he is, about the how life would be better now. And she had barked along, agreeing with him, because the smile on his face was something she hadn’t quite seen before.
When she had met Kibum, she understood.
Did you think we’d end up like this? Kibum asks.
She yips at him, head tilted.
Maybe I’ll get to go to the next world if he falls in love again, Kibum remarks. Do you think it’ll be fun? I might get to meet my grandma again.
I wish we had more time. He says. I wish I could have loved him until we were both old and grey and forgetful.
There are tears shimmering on Kibum’s face. She stands up on her hind legs and tries to lick them away. Kibum smiles faintly and tries to grab at her. When he laughs a little bit, she thinks she’s done some good.
~-~
There is a different scent mixed with Jonghyun’s when he gets home later. And she sees the source of the scent when the girl comes in.
Pretty, Kibum says, smiling. He’s always had good taste. Look at me!
You’re still the prettiest to me, she wants to say. But she’s a dog and she can’t, so instead she makes a sound almost similar to a purr and Kibum laughs, sadly but there.
The girl is talking to Jonghyun, eyes alight and hands moving with animation and Jonghyun is looking at her with affectionate eyes. And Kibum is staring at them both, hands twisting in a way that she knows means he’s not happy.
She wants to growl at them; snarl at the girl and her silly owner, but he looks happier than he has for a long time. And she knows Kibum can see it oo.
He looks happy, Kibum whispers into her ears. I’m so glad. But, I wish I wasn’t here to see it.
~-~
The girl settles in a chair near the television when Jonghyun goes to get drinks; her eyes drifting over all the pictures of Kibum and Jonghyun.
‘Who’s that?’ The girl asks, indicating the pictures, when Jonghyun comes back, two glasses held loosely in his hands.
But Jonghyun doesn’t answer, his eyes frozen on the chair the girl is sitting on.
That’s my chair, Kibum says. And she remembers. It’s the chair where Kibum had always sat, the one he had jokingly told Jonghyun once he was never allowed to sit on. And until now, Jonghyun has never sat in it.
‘That’s his chair,’ Jonghyun whispers, and his hands start shaking, the ice clinking against the sides of the glasses. The girl stands up and rushes over, reaching out to cover his shaking hands with her own smaller ones.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jonghyun says, pulling his hands away from hers, placing the glasses on the edge of the dining table. ‘Minho was right, I’m not ready for this.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he says again. ‘You’re really nice and I like you a lot. But-’
‘What happened to him?’ The girl asks, almost like she understands.
‘He died,’ Jonghyun says, smile broken. ‘Three years ago, and he took my heart with him. I thought I could move on, but I guess I can’t. Not like this anyway.’
The girl looks at him steadily. ‘You’re a really great guy,’ she says. ‘And maybe one day, when you’re ready, and if I’m still free. We can try again.’ She tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.
‘Definitely,’ Jonghyun says, cheeks pink.
As the door closes, he unclasps the chain around his neck and pulls off his own ring. When the silver band is pushed back onto his finger, he breathes out, slow and calm. He presses Kibum’s ring to his mouth, and smiles.
‘You always did say you’ll never let me go.’
Kibum’s eyes are wide as he watches Jonghyun make his way to his room.
Did you expect that? He asks, and she doesn’t miss the smile that is pulling at the edges of his mouth.
~-~
Life falls into a kind of regularity.
Jonghyun smiles more, goes out more, stops drinking so much of that evil smelling liquid. And people stop coming by with those pathetic pug-like faces. She stops worrying that he would forget to feed her one day, stops worrying that she would end up an orphan dog. Kibum stays around, watching Jonghyun go through each day.
It’s just like before. Except Kibum can’t touch Jonghyun, and Jonghyun can’t see Kibum, and sometimes they both get that desperate look in their eyes that she doesn’t really understand. Jonghyun still cries some nights, and Kibum still stands behind him, hands hovering above his shoulders, trying to touch what cannot be touched.
It’s just like before. Except it’s really not.
~-~
One evening, Jonghyun doesn’t come home. Instead Minho comes over to feed her for two days, and on the third day rushes through the door, picks her up and her blanket and rushes out again. He drops her into the backseat, and speeds through traffic, hands tight on the steering wheel.
She’s confused, and frightened. And she lets herself make tiny yapping sounds.
‘I’m bringing you to Jonghyun,’ Minho says. ‘I think he’ll want to see you. Before, before-’ His voice chokes up and he doesn’t say anything else.
Her yapping sounds become louder and more frenzied.
~-~
Minho brings her to a place that smells too clean, all the smell of human turned inside out to smell more like nothing. She sees Jonghyun lying on a bed nearby, people she identifies as his mother and sister standing at the head of it, Jinki and Taemin standing close by, their hands clasped together. Jonghyun's eyes are closed, and there are wires coming out from his body, joined to many machines.
What happened to him? A soft familiar voice asks.
Hey Roo, Kibum says, smiling down at her when she looks up from Minho's arms. I wish you could tell me why I'm here.
They are waiting for something, the silence only broken by sniffles from Jonghyun’s older sister. When she looks closer, she sees a jagged line across Jonghyun’s face and black blue purple bruises like those on Kibum’s body, on Jonghyun’s. He hasn’t opened his eyes.
And then one of the machines makes a long beeping sound and goes silent. There’s a beat as if everyone holds their breath. And as cries are pulled out of the throats of the people standing around, Jonghyun opens his eyes.
He looks up straight into Kibum’s face and smiles. Hello Bum, he says. Sorry I took so long.
Kibum throws his arms around Jonghyun’s neck.