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Outside the window, the sun comes out to shine, bathing Hyeongjun’s eyelids with its yellow light, disturbing his not-so-peaceful slumber.
Rubbing his eyes as his long limbs stretched, still half asleep, he wonders why his bedsheets feel so cold against his tan, dry skin. It’s sunny outside, yet he freezes in his house.
As he gets up from the bed, the somehow sharp air from his bedroom hits his chest, immediately making him wish he could warm himself up somehow, with someone.
With him.
Everyday was the same. Waking up by the sunlight wishing it was someone else waking him up, having lunch missing the jokes someone else would’ve told while they ate, going to sleep cold, and waking up cold because no amount of sunlight could warm up his chest as the light coming from his round eyes.
If it’s been six months, then why did the despair never fade? Why is every night just as lonely as the one before? Not even the drugs seem to work, or maybe they make it even worse, convincing him to sometimes think he smells his scent as he walks around his apartment.
His phone buzzes as he washes his teeth. Spitting out the foam, he then puts a shirt and slippers on so he could go pick up the package at the lobby. He rushes down the stairs with tired eyes, it’s still too early in the morning, for him. Kneeling down to grab the cardboard box, inevitably, he glances at the street outside as he stands up.
Seeing him in person, even if from afar, couldn’t compare to checking his instagram pictures. He was wearing the green day shirt he always used, the neckline worn out and wrinkly. His bleached hair was growing out, letting his brown roots be seen.
Walking on the sidewalk opposite to the building, was Jiseok. He looks the same, just as beautiful yet so further than he has ever been. Holding a plastic bag in one of the hands that used to hold Hyeongjun’s one day, he turns his head just by chance.
Hyeongjun stayed still, the cardboard box heavy in his hands. His empty stomach hurt sharply and his hollow heart seemed to stop, like the world around him as a whole. ‘Will he say hello?’ He asks silently as he looks at Jiseok’s shaking pupils and slightly opened mouth.
Across the street, he only looks away and keeps walking, faster than before.
Said movement snaps the thread holding Hyeongjun together. Panic floods his senses and he leaves the cardboard box on the floor, pushing the heavy glass doors.
“Jiseok!”
His broken voice yells and says for the first time since he asked him if there was any chance that he could stay. Careless of the bunny slippers on his feet or the way the hairs on his arms stand up as the cold air hits him, he runs towards Jiseok, who has stopped walking, yet he still doesn’t turn to look at him.
He can’t let him walk away, not again.
Stopping his run towards him once he’s close enough, he reaches out with a shaky hand to grab his forearm, yet he hesitates and it only hovers over Jiseok’s shoulder.
“J-Jiseok…” Hyeongjun calls. “Uhh-” He doubts, the adrenaline that made him run to him fading and slowly being replaced by embarrassment, becoming overly aware of his messy bed hair. “How-” cough cough “How have you been?”
The shorter man finally makes the decision to turn around and look up at him. His round eyes lack the spark of brightness Hyeongjun knew him for. Jiseok looks around shakily for a little while before his eyes steadily fall onto the other’s.
“…Hyeongjun.” He says. His mouth stays open as he hesitates about what to say. “I’m doing great- …without you.” And then he looks down again.
Hyeongjun can feel a sudden, hollow pain in his chest as he looks down on him. Jiseok looks so hesitant, looking away with eyes just a little more red every second. It was normally Hyeongjun the one doing that.
“Ah… That’s-” He looks away, just then he feels Jiseok’s gaze on him again. His own hands hesitate to hold the shorter man’s smaller hands. “That’s great…” He says, lowering his head as his lips form a petty pout.
Jiseok’s shaking pupils look at his pouting lips and Hyeongjun asks himself if maybe he’s just as hurt as he is. Although the question fades immediately as he recognizes he most likely is not.
“You know– I… I’m really sorry.” Hyeongjun mutters. “I didn’t say it when we last saw eachother.”
The blonde’s hand around the bag seems to tighten its grip, its knuckles turning white. “Please don’t remind me. Don’t make it… harder, than it already is.”
A heavy silence settles over the street as Jiseok stares at him, trying to find the words to respond to an apology he never thought he would get.
He grabs Hyeongjun’s forearm. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt?” His voice cracks as he asks. A stray tear escapes his eye, tracking down his cheek. “To feel like I was too loud for you? Like my friends, my life, the things I love, myself, were just exhausting for you?”
“I know, I’m sorry-” Hyeongjun tries to sob out, but Jiseok gently shakes him, his eyes wandering around him.
“I miss you so much it makes me sick, Hyeongjun.” Jiseok confesses, his forehead dropping forward until it almost touches Hyeongjun’s shoulder. He is trembling just as much as the boy in front of him. “Every single day… But it’s so hard. I’m terrified that if I step back into your world, you’re just going to shut the door on me again because you’re overwhelmed by me… Sick of me.” He lifts his head, his gaze searching Hyeongjun’s tear-stained face, looking for an answer. “Because that’s what happened. You got sick of me and my life and how I live.”
“No! No, Jiseok, please listen to me.” Hyeongjun chokes out, the words tearing from his throat as he drops all his defenses. He grabs Jiseok’s wrists, his cold fingers desperate for the warmth of his skin. “I never got sick of you. I was an asshole for not wanting to be involved. I’m so, so sorry.”
Jiseok flinches at his words, his breath hitching as he stares up at the taller boy.
“I was scared.” Hyeongjun confesses, fresh tears spilling over his eyelashes and going down his cheeks. “I was an idiot, and I was terrified of how bright you were, so I hid away. But you were… You are my whole world, Jiseok. I’m so sorry for not wanting to go inside yours completely… I was selfish. I miss your noise, your jokes… I- I miss you.”
The admission floats between them so heavily you could read the very words in the air. Jiseok’s mouth parts slightly, his round eyes wide with something Hyeongjun can’t recognize to be relief, shock or pain. Before he can say anything else, the plastic bag hits the back of his thigh as Jiseok hugs him desperately, wrapping his arms around his sides and burying his face on his shoulder. Hyeongjun stumbles and wraps his long arms around Jiseok’s waist as soon as he regains his balance.
Jiseok sobs away the six months of lonely nights against Hyeongjun’s neck. “You’re… You’re such an idiot.” He mumbles against his skin, his voice thick against his skin. “Look at you. You’re out here freezing for me…” He says, and it sounds almost like he’s so fond of him.
“I don’t care.” Hyeongjun whispers, tightening his grip, refusing to let an inch of space come between them again.
Jiseok chuckles between his sobs, pulling back just enough to look at Hyeongjun’s face, though he keeps his hands firmly on his shoulders. His eyes scan Hyeongjun’s messy bed hair and his bunny slippers. “Let’s go inside.” sniff “We need to talk.”
Hyeongjun nods and clumsily retrieves the heavy cardboard box he had abandoned on the floor once they’re at the lobby, his mind too dizzy from Jiseok’s proximity to care what is inside.
They ride the elevator in silence. The moment they step into Hyeongjun’s grey apartment, Jiseok kicks off his shoes and somehow it feels like they never had broken up at all. He pushes Hyeongjun toward the living room sofa as if it was his own.
“Sit down before you catch a cold.” He orders softly, the defensiveness in his voice is gone, and Hyeongjun realizes how he also missed him bossing him around. He drops the package on the coffee table and pulls his knees up to his chest after he sits. Now that the adrenaline is gone too, his teeth begin to click together from the cold.
Jiseok disappears into the bedroom for a brief moment, returning with the blanket that was on Hyeongjun’s bed. Without a word, Jiseok drapes it over him until only his neck and face are visible. “You always get so cold and then you immediately get sick.” He says. “Have you eaten anything yet?” Jiseok asks, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Hyeongjun shakes his head slightly, his messy bangs shifting over his eyes. “No.” He murmurs. “I just woke up a little while ago and then I went downstairs to pick something up.”
Jiseok lets out a small huff, though there is no real anger behind it. He stands up from the couch. “Okay. Stay here, mm?”
Hyeongjun watches from the sofa as Jiseok walks with ease into the small kitchen. He listens to the comforting, nostalgic sounds of cabinets opening, a pot being placed on the stove, and the quiet rush of water. It feels just like a few months ago. Just twenty minutes ago, Hyeongjun was freezing in a lonely bed. Now, Jiseok is in his kitchen, filling the quiet apartment with life.
A few minutes later, Jiseok returns carrying a warm ceramic bowl and a spoon. He sits back down on the cushion, carefully handing it over. The oatmeal steams gently in the cool air of the living room. It looks like the most comforting thing in the world. Hyeongjun accepts the bowl, the warmth of the ceramic heating his palms. He stares down at the food, and his throat suddenly tightens again.
“...Why are you doing this for me?” Hyeongjun asks quietly, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from the bowl. His voice is small and fragile, as if he is afraid the answer might shatter the moment.
Jiseok pauses, his gaze softening completely as he looks at the boy curled up in the blanket. “Because I care about you.” Jiseok answers softly, his voice steady and full of absolute certainty. “I… never stopped doing so.”
Hyeongjun looks up, meeting Jiseok's warm eyes, and takes his first bite of the oatmeal as the sunlight coming through the window actually feels warm against his nose.