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The night weather is cold and sharp, the rain and wind showing no mercy to a frustrated and tired Joo Il-woo.
He clenches his teeth and hugs his jacket around his shivering body as he pushes himself through the busy streets of Seoul. He wants nothing more than to get inside his apartment and keep warm, maybe drink then sleep. Of course, his twin brother, Wol-woo will be waiting for him. Il-woo sighs dramatically at that, not really up for being pestered in his current state.
The second Il-woo opens the door, he’s greeted with a chill similar to the one outside. He scowls under his breath.
“Wol-woo,” he says. “Why isn’t the heater on?”
Wol-woo is sitting on their shared futon, looking up at his brother while fidgeting with his striped jumper. He was prepared to greet him with a smile and a ‘welcome home’, but he frowns a tad upon Il-woo’s immediate complaint.
“Ah, heater… The heater -“ he shakes his head. “It uses money, too much.. for you.”
Il-woo sighs again, hanging up his jacket and kicking off his shoes before stomping over to switch it on himself.
“And were you cold?”
Wol-woo looks up at the ceiling as if to ponder the question.
“No, I’m warm. Under the blankets.”
Il-woo still continues to curse under his breath. Wol-woo hangs his head in guilt, a silent apology.
“It’s fucking freezing.” Il-woo sighs.
“I’m sorry, Il-woo-ya…”
Il-woo runs his hand through his hair, glancing toward the small refrigerator which stores (mostly) alcohol inside. He then looks at his brother, who is still hanging his head, fussing with the sheets.
Il-woo sighs for what feels like the 100th time tonight, taking two long strides toward the futon and propping himself down on it. Wol-woo looks at him.
“Wol-woo. Next time, when that clock says 5:30pm, you turn on that heater.”
Wol-woo nods understandingly, the corners of his mouth curling upwards into a tiny smile.
“Yes, Il-woo-ya. I’ll remember.”
“Right.” Il-woo lies back on the futon, arms coming to rest behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. Il-woo doesn’t know what his goal truly is. He works, drinks, repeat. This cold weather is killing him slowly. If the drinking doesn’t, maybe this will. Perhaps he’ll catch pneumonia or hyperthermia.
But whenever he thinks like that, his mind always drifts to Wol-woo. What would Wol-woo do without him? It’s not that he’s not independent. But Il-woo worries. Wol-woo is too trusting, too naive, and always overlooked or underestimated by society. Il-woo hates to even think about it. He feels responsible, and he hates it.
He misses his mom and dad. He misses when he too was looked after. He knows he doesn’t necessarily have to take care of Wol-woo, but god only knows what will happen if he stopped caring at all.
Il-woo turns over onto his side, throwing up his hood in a better attempt to keep his ears warm while the heater works it’s magic at the foot of the futon.
Lost in thought, Il-woo hardly registered his brothers presence, closer now, he watches him as he lies down next to him, ogling at him with his round, brown eyes.
Opposite to Il-woo, Wol-woo is smiling.
Il-woo doesn’t understand him sometimes.
“Why are you so happy?” Il-woo asks, oh so quietly.
“Because you’re home.” Wol-woo states. Il-woo’s eyes widen a little, his chest feeling funny.
He furrows his brows though, grimacing a little.
So? He wants to press. Il-woo isn’t who he used to be. He’s no longer the boy who would play pretend with his brother or laugh till they both fall asleep. He’s miserable. He’s a man now. He’s not the brightest bulb in the box, coming home like a grouch and reeking of alcohol almost all the time.
He hates himself for the way he speaks to Wol-woo. He doesn’t mean it, but his tone is never light. His questions sound like interrogations and his requests more like demands.
Closing his eyes, Wol-woo snuggles closer, bringing his hands up to Il-woo’s face to lightly touch his cheek. Only feeling, like he’s touching something delicate or precious.
He bumps their foreheads together, making Il-woo open his eyes again. And in a soft, sweet voice tied with a happy giggle, Wol-woo says,
“I love you, Il-woo-ya.”