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The ocean breeze feels less timid than it did when Junhui was a kid.
Junhui felt less timid too, a soul brave enough to leave home and venture out without a real cause. The beach was his new home, a warm and safe place for him to claim his own without getting too swept away by the currents.
How he actually got the funds to live in a beach house wasn't really his business.
(He didn't have the money for it — he was staying with a friend).
Whenever he walked out onto the white sand, letting the softness surround his feet, he felt it. The gentle breeze on his shoulders, running through his hair, reminding him that he definitely needed a haircut soon. I'll put that on my to-do list, he told himself for the thousandth time, knowing it would never get scheduled. It was a good thing he didn't mind the wisps of hair touching his neck now, nor did he mind the way that it framed his face.
Perhaps it was the new lack of timidness he had. Or just forgetfulness. His father always scolded him for being forgetful, but maybe there were more important things for him to remember in life than just putting the dishes away.
When Junhui struggled to find inspiration, he always went back to the beach. He'd sit there for hours watching the clouds pass by and the waves crash near his feet, somehow always striking him with a new idea for his writing. When his brain was really running dry, he'd curl up at a spot he found on the rocks closer to his home that gave a better view of the land and the beach simultaneously.
It was difficult navigating this new life, away from his family. The salty fresh air still found its way to him either way, snatching him up and placing him right in the sand like an open umbrella.
He had only been there for a few months, but it felt like a few lifetimes. He loved the way things were. He loved the way the sun kissed his face like a gentle mother, and he loved how the saltwater cooled him down when the heat became too harsh.
Junhui loved the way the breeze felt, even if it sometimes felt more invasive than soothing.
"Wen Junhui!" Seungkwan yelled from the balcony of their shared home. "You're spacing out again!"
Seungkwan was occasionally just as invasive as the wind, but that wasn't a bad thing. Junhui appreciated how much he cared.
Junhui sat by the rocks today, staring at the small sailboats his neighbors owned. He had always wondered what it would be like to ride one, to have nothing but the air carry him across the sea.
"Dinner's in ten!" Seungkwan continued before walking back inside. He knew better than to bother Junhui when he was in thinking mode.
Seungkwan felt like he had an obligation to watch out for his older friend. He always saw Junhui as this melancholic spirit, carried away easily as if he were a light little feather. There was a playfulness about him when he wasn't deep inside his own mind, which Seungkwan loved so dearly.
After a rather quick ten minutes, Junhui carried his heavy feet up the stairs of the back patio and went inside. He had plenty of time to ponder later that night, or even tomorrow morning if he was feeling too exhausted to leave again.
For as much as he loved going out, he never understood why he felt so drawn to it all. He rarely visited the beach when he was younger. Now that he was always by it, the sound of the seagulls and harsh currents were enough to pull him in like a magnet.
"You look weary," commented Seungkwan, taking a bite of the tomato soup he had prepared for them. "Writing something tough right now?"
Junhui nodded, stirring the soup in front of him mindlessly. He was more tired than he thought, his eyes drooping at the thought of writing any more.
"When will you ever take a break?"
A break? Was Seungkwan out of his mind?
"Dunno," Junhui said solemnly. Being an author was a lifelong passion of his, but sometimes it hurt him more than it helped. One would think it was an ideal job, considering he chose his own hours and worked on his own time. More often than not, though, he found himself isolated and huddled up in the corner of his bedroom, driving himself insane with the thousands of ideas appearing and disappearing within his mind. "I still have to finish this last chapter, and then maybe I'll contemplate it."
Seungkwan hummed, with nothing further to say. He was exhausted himself — he worked long shifts at the local deli to make enough money for the both of them when writing wasn't enough to pay the bills.
Life felt like it was supposed to be easier than this, but it wasn't. Maybe that's why Junhui left home so much, wandering around in what was essentially his backyard for longer than just a few hours a day. That was his version of a break.
"Thanks for making dinner, Seungkwannie," Junhui smiled weakly, washing his bowl in the sink and going upstairs to get ready for bed.
Outside his bedroom window was the sunset, and he watched it intently even as he began to fall asleep underneath his comforter. A break sounded really nice right about now.
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The days began to get warmer as summer rapidly approached, leaving behind the most harsh winter and bland spring that Junhui had ever been alive to witness. The hotter months were always his favorite months out of the year, if that wasn't clear enough already.
Still, he found himself stuck in a rather lonely routine. Seungkwan would be out at work for a majority of each day — aside from weekends — so he'd have the entire house to himself. It sounded particularly nice in theory, but it wasn't ideal.
Creak. The floorboards of the house were a bit old. It always creeped Junhui out when he walked around, especially late at night. If he actually believed in ghosts, he would assume the place was haunted.
"What are you doing awake so early?" Seungkwan rubbed his eyes, meeting Junhui in the kitchen. The clock read 4:28 AM, and it was a Saturday.
Junhui made himself a coffee, taking a sip before he answered. "Just felt like it," he shrugged.
Seungkwan reached up to fluff Junhui's hair before turning around and going back to his own bedroom. "You're so noisy. I thought we had an intruder. I'm going back to bed."
"Sleep well, Seungkwannie," he grinned, taking another sip from his piping hot cup.
The truth was that he pulled an all-nighter, coming up with fresh new ideas for his next book. He should've been finishing up the remains of the project he was actually working on, but he wasn't in the mood. Plus, he also got distracted watching his new favorite show Chilled Alliance. The new episode came out yesterday morning and he completely forgot about it until last night.
When he looked outside the humble kitchen window, he watched the sea move. It never slept, and it never needed a caffeine boost to stay awake.
It was still dark because of how early it was, so it was hard to see everything. Even the porch lights were turned off, though that might've been because Seungkwan forgot to turn them on before he went to bed.
Just over the small cliff that separated the house and the beach was a figure, standing right at the edge of the water. Junhui blinked his eyes a few times — finding it hard to believe that someone would be out there at this time — and it was gone.
Huh?
But I swear…
Junhui shook his head, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had. Besides, if someone really went out there, he'd find out later. He knew every inch of the beach like the creases on his palms.
Finishing his cup of now-lukewarm coffee, he made himself a light breakfast and mentally prepared for the day ahead. Write, eat, write some more, eat dinner, and hopefully sleep.
He sort of missed the days when he didn't occupy himself so much with work, when he actually hung out with friends after school or pulled all-nighters for the fun of it. Those days were long gone, washed away and replaced with the life that Junhui created for himself.
But it didn't always have to be that way. He just couldn't get himself unstuck.
Later, when Junhui was tired and didn't feel like writing anymore, he went to the shoreline. Instead of just sitting and staring, he walked, feeling every grain of sand and little pebble under his feet. He told Seungkwan he'd be out for a while, to which he responded with an unbothered okay as he continued watching his favorite cheesy soap opera.
It was a bit cloudy out that day, the wind more forceful than usual. As he wandered, he felt an unusual chill run down his spine, like someone was watching him. He turned around; nobody was there.
"Hello?" he called out gently, eyes scanning his surroundings. Still nobody.
The breeze continued as he strolled, caressing his arms and neck like a delicate lover. It didn't bother Junhui — it felt nice, calm — but it did make him wonder. He always loved the way the air felt by the water, but this… this felt different somehow.
"Ugh," he groaned to himself, "I definitely shouldn't have skipped out on sleep last night."
His brown hair was perfectly blown out of his face, and the waves strangely avoided his feet. Perhaps it was because he didn't normally walk out this far enough to notice these things, but something just didn't feel right about any of it.
After the walk, Junhui went home feeling more confused than ever. The odd feeling lingered over his skin, though it disappeared the closer he got to home. He didn't feel like opening the work-in-progress book document anymore. He was stuck again, but with his own curiosity.
He took a cold shower to counteract the hot, sticky feeling he got from being outside for that long. Yet again, he found himself deep in thought, his hands scrubbing through his scalp as the frigid water dripped down his body.
I need to get out of the house more, he thought, cabin fever finally creeping up to him. He was hallucinating people. At this rate, he might as well just start talking to the walls.
The white tile of the shower walls was ice cold as Junhui rested his head on it, head pounding from how overtired he was.
"Junhui, are you okay?"
Seungkwan's voice softly spoke over the water coming from the shower head, through the door to the bathroom.
"You've been in here a long time," he proceeded.
"I'm okay," Junhui answered, rubbing his fingers on his temples to try and stop the ache. "Just wanted to cool off."
He heard footsteps slowly make their way away from the door, and he was by himself yet again. Misery was an awful way to describe how he felt, but it was the closest possible thing to the truth.
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The following day, Junhui didn't write. He woke up at a normal time for a Sunday — 9:00 AM — and went straight outside, disregarding Seungkwan's protests. The tide was much lower that morning, exposing the wet sand and washed up pieces of seaweed.
He stood by the stairs leading up to his home, facing the ocean water. Patiently, he waited for the breeze to touch him. If he could feel it again, maybe he could understand why he was so drawn to it, why it felt like such a relief to him after hours of being stressed over his own job.
He even walked closer to the water, hoping to get a feel for it. Still nothing.
After a few minutes of waiting, Junhui started to give up. I knew I was crazy.
The sun still felt as good as ever, and he laid in the sand to just rest for a little bit. It was just him, the saltwater creeping up to him with every wave, and his own thoughts to keep him company. He closed his eyes, taking in every moment without worrying about deadlines or minuscule story details. Is this what it feels like to be free?
As if by magic, a handful of sand blew right into his face, landing right in his nose and the crevices of his now-open eyes.
"Damn it," he coughed, sitting up in an attempt to find out who threw sand in his face. Still, nobody was there.
"Okay, now this isn't funny," he crossed his arms. "I know there's someone there but I just can't prove it."
A sudden gust of wind hit his face, blowing his hair in all sorts of directions and knocking him backwards. As he sat back up, the tide came back up at an alarmingly fast pace and crashed over him, completely soaking him.
"What the hell?!" Junhui yelled, laughing at his own apparent bad luck.
Before he went back up the stairs to get in some dry clothes, he could've sworn he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was gentle, but teasing. Okay, maybe Junhui wasn't so crazy after all.
"Hey— Junhui! Stay right there and I'll get you a towel!" Seungkwan frenzied as Junhui stepped into the kitchen.
Junhui shivered, the air conditioning doing him no justice. What do I even say when Seungkwan asks me what happened? Will he believe me? Am I going insane—
"Why would you go in that dirty ocean water with all your clothes on?" Seungkwan wrapped a warm towel around him, taking him straight to the bathroom. "At least put on a bathing suit. And invite me next time."
Junhui shook his head. "It was an accident."
"How is this an— you know, nevermind. Make sure you take a nice hot shower, I don't need a workaholic and sick Junnie in my house," he teased, though there was always care behind his words.
When the warm shower water enveloped him, his mind wandered back to the sensations he felt while he laid there in the sand. How the earth itself moved just to mess with him. The cognitive dissonance of it all was what really got Junhui. He didn't even believe in any of this stuff, and yet it was happening to him anyways.
Junhui…
"Seungkwan? Did you call me?" Junhui furrowed his brows at the faint voice that called his name. It didn't sound like Seungkwan, but there wasn't really anyone else it could've been.
He didn't hear it again. Maybe it was just the way the water hit the shower floor, sounding like a familiar name.
For the rest of the day, he still wouldn't write. He daydreamed about the voice that called his name. It might've just been a sign that Junhui needed to go outside more, and not just at the beach. His high school friends' contacts were still in his phone. He just needed to press the call button.
Feeling bored, he went to the living room to watch whatever Seungkwan was watching. "What show is this?" he asked, sitting next to the cozy man.
"Real Housewives of Busan," Seungkwan answered, eyes glued to the TV. "It's got so much drama, hyung. Maybe it would do you good to watch something other than your own fingers typing words onto a screen."
"Hey! I watch shows!"
Still, Seungkwan was right. It felt nice to unwind, to get a glimpse of the 'real' world besides his bright laptop screen in the pitch black of his room.
Even as he attempted to clear his mind, though, his heart still pulled him to the sea. He watched out the glass patio door, hoping for a glimpse of the entity again. Something, or someone, was there, pulling him in like an anchor at the bottom of the ocean floor.
Seungkwan noticed he was distracted, but didn't mention it. Junhui wasn't particularly fond of reality television anyways.
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Junhui sat cross-legged on the sand, letting the wind sway his body back and forth.
"I know you're there," he whispered, waiting for another 'miracle' to happen. "I sort of feel like I'm losing my mind, but I know I can't be. It's too early for me to be demented."
The water reached out to him, almost as if it was offering a bit of comfort. It touched his foot ever so lightly.
Junhui giggled at the ticklish feeling he got. The wind came back, ruffling his hair and running through his loose linen shirt.
He spent the last couple of days going to the shoreline in an attempt to discover more about this supernatural occurrence. Each day, he learned more about it.
The wind whistled by his ears, humming sweet tunes in its effort to reach Junhui's mind. Sometimes, it would spin Junhui around, a dance only he and the spirit knew well. Sometimes, Junhui would just sit and talk to it as it quietly listened, and he swore he could feel someone holding his hand while he was on the verge of tears. It was haunting, but in such a way that Junhui couldn't get enough of it.
"I wonder," he looked up at the cloudy sky, "why is it that I only feel you here? Why don't you follow me around?"
Junhui sighed, remembering that he probably wouldn't get an answer. It couldn't speak. It was just nature talking to him.
Since it was still early morning, he thought he had some time before he had to go back home. He planned on going for a run with Seungkwan before he headed off to work, figuring it would be good to move his muscles around for once. The point of it was also to get him out of the house, although Junhui pretended it wasn't.
"So peculiar," he noted, watching the wind swirl the sand around in little tornadoes. It was trying to entertain him.
As soon as he stood up, he felt a gentle pull on his arm. The wind was particularly strong today. Junhui couldn't help but feel a tug on his heartstrings as well.
"Junhui!" Seungkwan shouted at the top of the stairs, startling Junhui. "Are we running or what?"
"I'm coming!" Junhui responded.
In a much quieter voice, he spoke to whatever was hugging his arm. "I'll be back, I promise."
The breeze slowed, settling down as it watched Junhui run to Seungkwan. For the first time, Junhui swore the ocean went silent.
There were light droplets of rain that came down on the two of them as they jogged on the asphalt. Seungkwan had probably done this a thousand times, but Junhui was no expert. Seungkwan had multiple pairs of running shoes, but today he wore the ones Junhui got him this past Christmas. Junhui wasn't typically one to exercise, so he had old sneakers instead.
They went by places that Junhui hadn't seen in a long time. He knew he was a recluse, but he didn't realize it was this bad. He wished he had the motivation to go out and do things like Seungkwan did. Seungkwan went shopping, went to the gym, went to work, and even visited friends at their houses. Junhui did none of those things, filling him with nothing but regret and disappointment. Some days, he couldn't even leave his own bed.
"What was all that about at the beach? Are we getting tornadoes now?" Seungkwan asked, worried that they'd have to start preparing for more than just flooding emergencies.
Junhui laughed, but his ears turned red from embarrassment. "I— you know, I'm actually not sure. Windy day, I guess."
Seungkwan paused, and he was never one to pause. Ironic, considering how badly he wanted Junhui to stop his writing to just smell the roses. "You looked really happy out there, though. Better than you looking like a zombie with those eye bags of yours."
Junhui knew better than to take Seungkwan's comments to heart. He truly was thoughtful when it came to Junhui, even when he was snarky about it half the time.
"Thanks," Junhui said shyly. "I was happy. I am happy."
He really did need to go outside more often, though.
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After a few weeks, it was obvious that the breeze he felt wasn't just a breeze. Junhui sometimes heard it speak, though the only thing he could ever make out clearly was his own name.
Junhui…
"Can you say anything else? You're just making me look even more like a lunatic."
This time, Junhui brought out his favorite beach chair and sat underneath an umbrella with his laptop. He might as well get some planning done while he was out there, talking to a person that seemingly wasn't even there.
The wind blew directly in Junhui's face, hoping to annoy him. It didn't work.
"Thanks for that, it's quite hot out. I needed that."
After that remark, the presence of the breeze seemed to disappear. It was odd that this was just something that Junhui memorized at this point. He could tell whether he was alone or not, just by a persistent feeling that dragged over his skin.
"Hey! Where'd you go?" Junhui hollered, shutting his laptop and stepping out of his chair.
Junhui…
He followed the whistle of the wind, guiding him to a tucked away spot. Just behind some rocks, there was a shiny, glittering object poking out of the sand. Junhui dug it out, revealing a beautiful seashell that glimmered shades of light blue, lilac, and pearl white. When he touched it, the air shifted ever so delicately. The wind became more concentrated, and the waves began to move more naturally, without any control from an outside source.
You said you wanted to see me, correct?
The voice, but louder. More defined. It was talking to Junhui, with a dash of sarcasm one could only find in a human.
Look behind you.
Junhui turned around, and there he was. The spirit Junhui was so infatuated with, in a form that made it easier for him to communicate with. A ravishing looking person, with his black hair contrasting his porcelain skin in a beautiful dichotomy. He didn't look like he belonged on the beach; perhaps an art gallery, or even a fancy dinner party. Why was he here?
"You… you're—"
Real? Not really. I'm dead.
It became a bit clearer when the spirit said that, Junhui noting his very translucent body. He was a ghost, plain as day. He saw right through him — figuratively and literally — appreciating every quiet feature of his, finally having a visual for the being he had been interacting with nearly everyday.
Even if this was the outcome Junhui desired, he hadn't actually planned out what he would say.
"Um… what's your name? Do you have a name?" Junhui scratched his head, feeling the absence of the wind.
Minghao, said the ghost, wearily, like it was something he hadn't spoken in a long while. A book in the corner of the library, ridden with dust.
Junhui quietly repeated the name to himself, rolling off his tongue with ease. It wasn't like he hadn't spoken to Minghao before, after all. "I can't believe I'm talking to you right now," Junhui smiled ever so brightly, even getting a slight chuckle out of Minghao.
I'm delighted that this makes you so happy, simpered Minghao. Junhui didn't expect him to be so bashful, at least compared to how he acted when he wasn't visible at all.
As they spoke, the sky became a vast, dark gray, signaling that it was going to downpour soon. Junhui knew it was never good to be outside during heavy rain, even if he wanted to mindlessly wander around.
"I have to go inside," frowned Junhui, going to grab his things from the beach chair. "I'll catch you later, okay?"
Wait.
Junhui turned his head back as he was about to climb up the stairs, seashell still in hand.
Let me come with you. I can travel as long as you hold my shell.
"Oh! Awesome!" Junhui beckoned Minghao to come over, letting him follow him up the white wooden stairs.
Seungkwan was away at work, thankfully, so Junhui didn't have to worry about introducing him to a deceased person. He'd probably faint on the spot at the sight of Minghao, and then send Junhui to some sort of mental asylum when he actually regained his consciousness.
"Have you not been over here before?" asked Junhui, opening the back door for him. "I feel like this place is haunted sometimes."
Minghao shook his head. No, but I've called out to you before. I can only travel so far. I am bound to that shell for the rest of time.
"Ah," Junhui's face saddened. "Well, feel free to make yourself at home. I don't want you to be stuck in that," he pointed outside, where it was now raining droplets the size of golf balls.
I cannot feel the rain, Minghao said bluntly, but I appreciate your kindness. Thank you, Junhui.
Junhui blushed out of embarrassment, standing awkwardly in front of Minghao. Whatever he had imagined Minghao to look like, it was not this. Tall, lean, and with eyes like wide half-moons, for as tired as they appeared. Beautiful.
So… are you going to show me around? Minghao interrupted him from his thoughts.
"Oh— sure! Yeah!" Junhui's mind raced, a flurry of mental pictures floating around his brain.
Junhui reached for Minghao's hand as if to drag him around, only for his own hand to go right through it. "Woops."
You silly thing. Minghao rolled his eyes, walking right through Junhui. When he just stared in awe at him, Minghao raised his eyebrows teasingly, once again becoming the playful gusts of wind Junhui already knew him as. Well, let's get on with it, shall we?
Junhui, though completely captivated with Minghao, successfully led him through the entirety of the two story beach house. Most of it didn't matter — Junhui learned he had no appetite or urge to relieve himself, so the kitchen and bathrooms wouldn't be useful to him — but it was a considerate gesture regardless.
Is this your bedroom? Minghao inquired, looking into the messy room right in front of them. Papers were scattered everywhere but the work desk in the corner, and the bed wasn't even made.
Junhui was embarrassed to say the least, but he owned it. "Yeah. I'm kind of a mess right now, if you can't tell."
Minghao shrugged, as if it wasn't really an issue. That's okay. You seem to work very hard.
Junhui hid his face. Why is this ghost being so friendly to me? he thought to himself, although he wasn't complaining one bit about it.
When they made it back downstairs, Junhui was bored. It was still raining heavily downstairs, and he wasn't quite sure what he would be able to do with a person that couldn't even interact with physical objects. The floorboards creaked as Junhui walked, but absolutely no sound came from Minghao's presence — not even the sound of breathing in the silence.
"Do you wanna watch me play something on the Playstation?"
What's a… Playstation?
Of course, it didn't register to Junhui that Minghao might be really… really… old.
"It's a gaming system. To play video games on. You know?" Junhui explained. Minghao still looked confused, his eyes more puzzled than when Junhui first mentioned writing on a 'laptop.'
Video games?
Junhui facepalmed, realizing the situation he got himself into. He was talking to the wind, which was also a ghost, which was also a ghost that had no knowledge of the modern world. Great.
"Minghao, if you don't mind me asking… how old are you?"
I couldn't exactly tell you. I don't know what year it is, and I lost count a long time ago. His eyes shifted, darker and laced with discomfort. Junhui sat them down on the couch, though he wasn't sure if Minghao could feel the cozy fabric underneath his legs.
"Okay…" Junhui hummed, trying to find a solution. "Could you tell me what year you died, then?"
1925. I was twenty eight years of age.
Junhui inhaled a deep breath, his heart abruptly becoming a cannonball in his chest. "It's 2026 now. If you were born 1897, that makes you…" he paused to do the mental math, "one hundred and twenty eight. Or one hundred twenty nine, depending on when your birthday is."
Never tell me your age. I feel geriatric.
"I'm twenty nine."
Good lord.
Junhui gulped, preparing his next question. He had so many things he wanted to know, his curiosity getting the best of him. "Have you been out there that entire time?"
Minghao looked away, tapping his foot on the floor in a small burst of anxiety that even Junhui could feel. I have seen nothing but that shoreline for one hundred years. This is my first time seeing something new since then.
"Oh, Minghao, I'm so sorry."
Do not apologize. But there is something you should know.
Minghao reached out for Junhui in an effort to connect with him, even if they couldn't touch at all. I've watched you all this time. You're stuck here a lot. I want you to explore as much of the world as you can, before it's too late. Before you get trapped, like me.
Junhui frowned, catching Minghao's solemn expression even under the dim lighting of the room. "I wish I could hug you right now."
Do it, hug me. I am right here, even if you cannot feel me the way you would like to.
They hugged on the couch the best they could, even if it was awkward and cold. Junhui still felt him, the goosebumps on his skin strangely more comforting than anything. Minghao felt the mortal warmth radiating from Junhui, a part of him becoming whole with the sensation of humanity pressed up against him.
"Thank you. I really needed that."
I needed that too. A lot.
For a moment, Junhui thought he saw tears fade down Minghao's skin. He wouldn't blame him for crying at all.
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After some convincing from Junhui, Minghao decided to stay over Junhui's house. Minghao protested, claiming he'd be alright outside because he survived there for a century. Junhui firmly argued that was all the more of a reason for him to stay inside.
Minghao couldn't be seen if Junhui wasn't holding the seashell, but it was still hard to hide his presence. Everywhere he wandered within the confinement of the house left a cold trail behind. Sometimes he'd knock things over when he wasn't paying attention, scaring the living daylights out of Seungkwan (who still had no idea Minghao was there).
Often, he'd look outside the front window, past the velveteen drapes, watching the cars on the street go by. Cars were only growing in popularity by the time he died. It was interesting seeing how far they had come.
How do you not become restless in here? asked Minghao, watching Junhui type on his 'magic typewriter,' as he would call it.
They'd both been inside the whole week, barely taking any time to go out to the beach. It was helpful for Junhui — he'd actually been getting some work done — but it was also rather boring, especially for Minghao, who had already observed every nook and cranny within the house.
"I do," Junhui answered, not looking away from the screen, "I just can't really get myself to leave."
Is that why the only place you would go was the beach?
Junhui spun around in his chair, thinking more carefully about his response. "I guess so. But there was something else that intrigued me about the beach."
Surely you don't mean me, right? Minghao tsked.
"Well of course I mean you," laughed Junhui, standing up to meet Minghao at his eye level. "I know you must be bored out of your mind. Do you want to go out somewhere?"
A rare smile appeared on Minghao's face. I'd like that very much.
And so, for the first time in months, Junhui ventured out of the house on his own. Well, not really on his own, but that's how it appeared when he first pitched his idea to Seungkwan.
Seungkwan's eyes were the biggest Junhui thought he had ever seen them.
"I don't know if some sort of sea god has answered my prayers for this to be happening," teased Seungkwan, "but I'm glad you're feeling good enough to get out of the house. Have fun, Junnie."
Junhui thought he heard a small snicker in his ear at the sea god comment. Minghao was far from a god, but he was still heavenly to Junhui.
"I'll have so much fun, don't you worry."
His car still sat in the garage, collecting dust from disuse. It was a cool shade of blue, matching the ocean in the early morning sunrise. Junhui got in and turned it on, almost forgetting he had a guest with him until the temperature and volume knobs started twisting on their own.
"Ah, right. Forgot you haven't seen a car since before the Great Depression."
Junhui took out the shell from a pocket in his tote bag, allowing Minghao to speak clearer.
He appeared in the passenger seat with the meanest death glare Junhui had seen, even if he knew he was joking. Watch your language.
"Okay Grandpa," he chuckled, opening the garage and putting the car in drive. "I have no idea how this is going to work because you float through everything. Let's hope I don't drive away without you."
Minghao rolled his eyes — a definite habit of his — and Junhui started driving off, Minghao still very much in the car seat.
They planned on going to the nearby park. Since it was still morning, Junhui knew there wouldn't be many people there, other than those who did early runs — like Seungkwan — or the elderly. It would be easy for the two of them to sit together on a bench and talk, feeling the natural summer breeze bringing them closer together.
For most of the drive, it was silent. Only the sounds of the air conditioning blasting in the car and the local radio hosts talking about a new ice cream shop on the corner of Main Street kept their ears occupied. It was important to Junhui that Minghao experienced the mundaneness of humanity even in the present day, just as it was important to Minghao that Junhui experienced more than just the bits of the world that he surrounded himself with.
"Isn't this nice?" Junhui whispered, bringing them to a bench that had a nice view of the skyline. It was the same skyline that both of them knew all too well, but from a different perspective.
Minghao hummed a tune, voice soft as the white clouds drifting past them. It is nice, here with you.
Junhui moved his head as if to put it on Minghao's shoulder, but he lost his balance and fell onto the seat of the bench. Minghao burst out into laughter, making Junhui's slight pain all the more worth it.
Here, let me make it easier for us. When Junhui sat back up, Minghao put his own head on Junhui's shoulder, not having any weight to weigh him down. Even if just slightly, Junhui could almost feel the strands of Minghao's hair touching his neck.
Is this what you write about? he asked, directly referring to the late dawn in front of them.
"Not really," answered Junhui. "I don't write about things that are real, usually. I use writing as an escape."
The palm trees swayed nearby, aching to feel what life was like on the solid ground instead of being so high in the air. Fishermen left their docks to go make their big catches of the day, wanting to take their boats farther than the simple boundaries set by work.
Why do you feel the desire to escape this world, Minghao uttered, when it has done nothing but crawl towards you, seeking your love?
Junhui blinked slowly, letting Minghao's words sink in.
"I-I never thought about it that way before," he gulped, taking in the sunrise just a bit more than he did a few moments prior.
Minghao lightly chuckled, amused at Junhui's reaction. You still have much to learn about life.
Time went by slowly after that moment, few words exchanged between the two. In these minutes they spent in silence, they communicated more than enough.
Junhui was in love. There was no doubt about it. It was more complicated than that, though. Minghao wasn't even alive. Navigating feelings like this would have to become more than just a simple confession.
By the time they had gotten home, it had been hours. They sat there the whole time, watching the sun rise until it was right above their heads. They talked about simple things. Minghao probably knew everything about Fortnite now thanks to Junhui.
I haven't had so much fun in so long, smiled Minghao, laying on Junhui's full sized bed like a snow angel. Thank you for taking me around.
"Me too," Junhui fidgeted with his thumbs, "thank you for letting me."
Minghao looked up at Junhui from the bed, his eyes having a newfound twinkle in them. So… what do we do now?
Junhui, feeling adventurous from the morning they had, was quick to answer. "Let's go to the beach. It's been a while."
Minghao grinned, fading away as Junhui let go of the shell when he put it in his bag again. He walked downstairs, still feeling the cold presence near him. The chill that was so comforting to him would be nothing but unsettling to others, but that's what made their otherworldly bond so special.
"See you, Junnie," said Seungkwan, mouth full of a sandwich he had just made. He didn't even question Junhui anymore, as he went outside with seemingly no reason to do so.
When Junhui sat in the sand, jeans on and all, he let Minghao out, almost like a genie in a lamp. Minghao sat next to him on the soft surface.
"Why aren't you dressed for the beach if this is where you reside?" questioned Junhui. It wasn't something he really thought about until now, seeing Minghao's too-fancy dress shoes laid out on the damp sand.
Minghao wiggled his feet in a fit of playfulness. Junhui, this is what I wore when I died.
"Oh."
It's okay, it doesn't bother me. Ask as much as you want, I'm sure you're curious.
Junhui hummed softly, thinking carefully about his next words. "How did you die?"
Minghao clicked his tongue. Someone drowned me.
"And you're just this casual about it?"
Well, if it's been a hundred years, I suppose I can't really stay upset about it. Otherwise I'd just be angry all the time. My killer's probably in hell anyways.
"Fair point," Junhui nodded, looking far into the distance. He was so close to Minghao that it made him nervous.
Minghao placed his hand on Junhui's, and somehow the latter could feel it, tingling over the back of his palm.
Could I ask you a few things too?
Junhui looked directly in Minghao's kind eyes. For a ghost, he sure seemed to be full of soul.
"Of course you can."
What do you think about when you sit out here and stare at the water? It's so boring out here.
Even if Junhui knew the answer to that question, he still found it difficult to answer. Looking back on it, he had wasted so much time just sitting out there. Plus, Minghao had been there to watch the entire time. It became something a bit embarrassing.
"I don't know, a lot of stuff. I try to brainstorm for my books here, but I usually drift off into other things. I feel like a failure sometimes," he scoffed at himself, "because this is not where I thought I'd end up at all. I thought I'd have it all as a writer, but I'm stuck in the same place every day. I can't even leave my room without feeling pathetic."
Minghao put his arm around Junhui's back, rubbing circles in his shoulder. It didn't do much. Junhui wished he could feel the entirety of Minghao's touch, not just fragments of it.
You're not a failure. You just surround yourself with work and that's it, Minghao responded, a certain tenderness to his voice that Junhui hadn't heard anywhere else. You cannot live your life in sadness. It will only get worse if you do.
Tears formed in Junhui's eyes, and before he knew it, they rolled down his face in waves. "It's just so hard, y'know," he sniffled, "it's hard trying to meet your own expectations."
The seagulls chirped, the ocean moved, and Minghao whispered, all in a collective effort to soothe Junhui's worries.
So then stop expecting so much of yourself if you know you're never going to reward yourself anyways. There's more to life than doing good.
Junhui cried harder, letting out teardrops that had been patiently waiting to leave for years. He opened his arms to let Minghao hug him, and they embraced each other again in a closeness that normally wasn't achievable.
The world stayed still for a few moments. The gravitational pull that the Moon had on the ocean stopped, and the Earth stopped in its tracks around the Sun. Junhui didn't care if the universe had to pull them away from each other for order to exist. He'd stay in Minghao's light arms until outer space collapsed on itself.
"Thank you for that," Junhui sobbed. He hadn't had someone's shoulder to cry on in years. "I really needed to hear all of that."
Junhui accidentally let go of the shell, letting it fall into the sand, but the wind that Minghao became still wrapped him up in a reassuring embrace. No matter what form Minghao was in, Junhui still felt every bit of his love.
༄｡°. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
There was something that crept up to the both of them in the month or so that they had known each other: feelings.
Junhui was sure how he felt. Of course, he did a lot of deliberating when he knew he wasn't around Minghao. Is this what he wanted? To be in a relationship with someone who wasn't even living anymore? Did his hopefully-soon-to-be-lover have a gravestone they could visit? Or was his decayed body still somewhere underwater, now a home for a bunch of sea life?
No, Junhui wanted this. He wasn't entirely sure where he was headed for the rest of his life, but he knew he desired sharing it with Minghao.
It was Minghao that he worried about. Would he want this too? To be with someone lucky enough to still be alive?
The conversation eventually came up, when Junhui took the two of them to the new ice cream shop off of Main Street. It was a conversation bound to happen, with the way the two of them constantly pined over each other. The way Junhui searched for devotion in Minghao's eyes. The way Minghao let Junhui yap about the hottest new video game while he simply observed his utter enthusiasm.
You're only getting plain vanilla? Minghao crossed his arms, as if to say Junhui could do much better than that. Someone must be fun at parties.
"Says the one that can't eat any ice cream at all."
They bickered a lot with each other, but it was only out of love. It was a good thing Junhui found a ghost with humor and not one with ill intent.
"So…" Junhui cleared his throat, "what now?"
What do you mean?
"Like, what about us? Where are we headed at this point?"
Oh, I want to go to the zoo next. It's been a long time since I've been.
Junhui shook his head at Minghao's obliviousness, even though it was due to his own poor wording. Ironically, as a writer, he was never good at getting the right words out in serious conversations.
"No, I mean… okay, give me a second. I need to collect my thoughts."
Take your time.
Junhui took a bite of his melting ice cream. Minghao was right, he probably should've gotten something else.
"Okay, listen. I'm like… kind of in love with you. Maybe not kind of. A lot in love with you. And I wasn't really sure how to say this but it's been on my mind ever since I first felt your breeze against my skin. I craved it, each and every day. I came looking for you, and eventually, I found you. And now you're here, with me, and I've loved every single moment of it."
Junhui inhaled, getting all of that out in almost one breath.
Minghao looked at him, a bittersweet smile on his face, like he just took a bite of dark chocolate ice cream.
Junhui… I love you too. But we can't.
Junhui's face dropped, and so did a bit of ice cream onto the wooden bench they sat at.
"What…?"
Minghao smiled more, as if it was supposed to be obvious. I can't provide anything for you. We can't hug, we can't kiss, we can't even hold hands. What use is it?
"Oh, dear Minghao," Junhui rested his head on his palm, "a relationship isn't only about the physical stuff. Emotionally, I'm bound to you more than I am to anything or anyone else."
Really? his eyes widened curiously, a flicker of excitement in them. I've never done this before. I don't know how it works.
"That's okay, neither do I," reassured Junhui, finishing the last of his cup. "We can figure it out together."
Even after the reassurance, Minghao still appeared worried. It was the most apprehensive Junhui had ever seen him.
Are you sure you want this? This isn't very… typical. Of course it wasn't. Minghao wanted to make it work so badly, but it was unfamiliar territory. A ghost and a living human. Only found in the fantasy novels Junhui liked to write, except now it was pure reality.
Junhui stood his ground. He'd thought about it too much to give up on Minghao, to give up on a relationship that could last forever — even if it was a bit difficult to manage on the surface level.
"Minghao, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my living years with you. When I die, we can find our own beach to rest together, as long as time exists. But as long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure we travel far across this world even if it's the last thing I do."
And you don't mind if we cannot physically touch?
"I promise I don't mind," he responded softly, "because that is not why I fell in love with you. Sure, I first noticed the breeze you sent my way, but my love for you is much deeper than that. I fell in love with you for your gentleness, your kindness, and your wisdom. And of course, your beauty. I love you for all of you."
Minghao started to cry, something he didn't show in front of Junhui often. He was far above the boundaries of the word 'happy,' but that was the easiest way for him to describe it. He loved how Junhui saw him for who he was, loved him for who he was.
I love you, he whispered, moving over to Junhui's side of the table to kiss him on the cheek. So, so, so much.
Junhui blushed, the light and feathery phantom kisses reaching his skin. "I love you more, Minghao. I promise I won't keep you here."
You better not. I don't want to keep living in the same spot, and neither should you.
Home came with a promise, an eternal promise to each other that they'd stay together no matter where home was. Their relationship was new, and by God was it terrifying, but it was still a sense of familiarity. They'd go wherever the wind took them.
༄｡°. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁
The next story Junhui wrote wasn't truly fictional. Though, nobody had to know that.
It was about Minghao, and all the adventures the two of them would go on together. The first chapter had only just begun, and Junhui found the motivation he'd been lacking for the past few years. Though, it is nice to have a ghostwriter to aid in the writing process.
Junhui wrote and published The Beach Calls Me, but I Only Hear Your Voice within no time, and it became an instant hit. Readers raved about how realistic the writing felt, though they still never knew the backstory of how it really all came together.
When the peak of summer approached, the beach called their names. Minghao stepped into the ocean for the first time in a long time, initially too petrified to do so. He still couldn't feel the water on his legs, but he sure felt Junhui's attempt to hold his hand the whole time he walked into it.
Seungkwan quickly learned about Minghao's presence, but was much more receptive to it than Junhui thought he would be. Turns out anxiety consumed him, similar to how massive waves in the big open sea will sink even the largest of ships.
"Are you ready to go on a plane?" Junhui whispered, knowing Minghao was standing next to him. They were in the airport, ready to board. Naturally, Minghao had never been on one.
The subtle brushes against his arm meant Minghao was just as excited as he was nervous. They'd get to achieve their dream of voyaging to different places, finally, so being scared for too long would only ruin the experience.
Summertime was notoriously the worst time of the year to travel, but they got on the plane and took off. There was an empty seat next to Junhui, but he knew Minghao was right there, cuddled into his neck. They watched the clouds pass by through the window, reaching a place much higher than sea level.
The ocean breeze was less timid than Junhui remembered. Though, it was because there was a human behind the elegant, yet mischievous movement.
Junhui thought he was less timid, until he met Minghao. He helped him realize how afraid of the world he truly was.
Thankfully, he didn't have to be afraid anymore.
Off they went, like two little seagulls, mated for life. They'd evolved past the beach. They soared together, and they would until it was finally time to rest.