When Last Night Didn't End

Episode 1: 마음이 없는 집이에요

It was because of the darkness of the city outside the window that I prayed for light.

Not because of the growing dread in my gut, twisting my intestines into tight knots. Certainly not because of the piles of cardboard boxes scattered over the patterned rug or the bare walls void of the frames holding a farce of our lives. But somehow, we're here—both trapped in the moment of crunching bubble wraps, dust particles floating in the air and covering the floor in thin layers, and the growing towers of things we wanted but never needed.

Nothing could be done to avoid this outcome. Rather, I did nothing to avoid it.

"Hye-jin," a voice I haven't decided if I hated or not speared through my thoughts. "Who's going to take the vintage plates?"

I tore my eyes away from the bustling city beyond the window, away from the little pockets of light whizzing through the roads and flashing from the buildings, and made sure my stare was as flat as the kitchen counter behind him. "I don't know, Rin," my voice was hollow like it was being scraped clean of any traces of who I was. It didn't sound like me. At all. "When was the last time we used it?"

Rin frowned. He set the box he was carrying from the dining room at the foot of the couch. Distinct clinks of porcelain rang from the inside. The mugs, maybe. "I don't think we ever did," he answered. His eyes moved towards the empty spot on the otherwise lengthy couch where I sat. "So, who's going to take it?"

My lips curled in on themselves. Rin had always complained about the plates and how I skimped on their use for "special occasions". Of course, the only special occasion we ever had was now, when we were already dividing up the house like the piece of property it was. He was adamant about using things for their purpose, and plates sitting in the dark were the opposite of what they were used for. Did Rin resent me for that?

"You can take it," I averted my eyes as Rin sank into the couch. We're on the opposite ends, each armrest claimed. Too far to reach me. That's what led to this whole fiasco, anyway.

He sighed, a sound so heavy it felt like it settled on my shoulders not long after. If I don't follow suit, it might crush me.

I held my breath in.

"You gave those up fairly quick," Rin noted inclining his head at me.

I didn't look at him. I couldn't, anyway. Instead, I let my gaze wander and ultimately rest on the single vase neither of us could touch, much less throw away. A bunch of purple lilacs sat over its slender neck, giving it some sort of a fluffy tophat. Rin's statement burned at the back of my head. He seemed to be implying more than the plates. But for the most part, anyone would be quick to shed things they just didn't care for any longer. It's his fault for failing to realize that.

A lot of this was his fault.

"Hye-jin, just..." the hesitance in his tone finally made me throw a sideways glance at him. Ever since we walked out of court a few weeks ago, I hadn't looked at him longer than a few seconds. But now...