Day 1
I hum calmly, carefully making pancakes for breakfast. I have bacon in the oven,and bowls with fruit for toppings. I try to make everything in this apartment feel welcoming. I want it to feel like he will want to live here, too. I sit at the table, tapping my foot. It's 8:30,he should be waking up by now. At least, he's usually awake. I frown, heading to the bedroom. I push open the bedroom door, peeking inside. HoSeok lays on the bed, engulfed in a comforter. The only thing that pokes out is his hair near the top of the bed. I smile, walking into the room. I run fingers in his hair, whispering to him to wake him up.
"HoSeok, baby." I lean down close to slowly remove the blanket. "I made breakfast for you." I feel pride in waking him up, waking him up with voice control. His head pokes out, a sleepy smile painted across his face. I smile, too, unable to handle how much I love him.
"Breakfast?" He asks. I nod.
"Pancakes, and bacon, and fruit." I reply. He smiles again.
"Whipped cream?" He looks at me quizzically.
"In the fridge." I help to completely unwrap him. And he skips off the the direction of food. I laugh after him. He piles food onto his plate, seemingly not caring how much he eats today. It makes me happy. It's the way that he normally is. For a second I believe that everything is getting better already, but that thought fades quickly as I notice HoSeok hesitate halfway trough eating. I set my coffee down, tilting my head.
"Is something wrong?" I ask him. He shakes his head, but immediately runs to the bathroom. I pretend I don't hear him making himself sick. I stare at the food left on his plate, and sigh.
Day 2
HoSeok skipped classes even though I told him he shouldn't. He doesn't seem to care anymore. I fought with him about keeping the wine in the fridge, yet he laughed in my face and took it anyway. He's being rude; he's acting childish.
He dances in the living room, but I'm not too focused on watching him. He's drunk and honestly pissing me off. I understand. I really, honestly understand that this is a relapse for him. A relapse into a dark place. I sympathize with him on that level, but the wilder he gets, the more I want to kick him out of my house. I shake my head, and continue cleaning the living room.
HoSeok flops onto the couch, his cheeks flushed with alcohol he drank too much of. I scold him for jumping on the furniture and he just laughs at me. He's testing me. A few minutes pass, and the frustration that I feel is filling the room rapidly. I know that he can feel it. He moans softly, making me turn around. His back arches slightly as he pulls down his pants. I stare at him, frowning.
"Baby, what are you doing?" I ask him, setting down the duster. He laughs, a faint glimmer of tears in his eyes. He looks up at me, pulling up his shirt to expose his toned tummy. My eyes flash down to look at his boxer briefs for only a moment before meeting his eyes again. "HoSeok." I whisper, shaking my head.
"I already know you want to." He says calmly. He's not wrong. I would love to take his offer, but not because I am a creepy guy. I love him, and I'll admit to myself that I do want to have lots of sex with this boy. I want to for the rest of my life, just not when he's heartbroken and drunk. Not with tears running down his cheeks. "You can touch me." He offers, similar to the way he offered during my rage. It hurts to hear him say that, and I wonder how many boys have heard these exact words. I shake my head, not really wanting to know the answer to that.
"Baby, I don't need to touch you." I say softly, sitting beside his legs. He whines, repositioning himself on the sofa in an attempt to entice me more. I shake my head. He stretches his legs across me. "You're upset, and I get that. You're drunk, so you can try all you want, but I'm not like other guys." I look over at him, finalizing my choice. His tear filled eyes stare back at me for a while before a fake smile spreads on his face. He sits up, crawling across the floor until he sits between my legs. His fingers slowly trace up to the button on my jeans.
"HoSeok, stop it." I scold him again. He ignores me, seemingly lost in his own world.
"I'm very good." He whispers. "I'll make you feel better." He blinks up at me.
"HoSeok, you need to knock it off." I push him slightly. He tries one more time. "Alright, that's enough." I say, standing up. He loses his balance, falling into his butt. His face pales as he looks up at me. I grab under his arms, lifting him up and pulling him to the bedroom. He loses the confidence he had a moment ago, and his fingers dig into my shoulders. His eyes plead with me. I drop him onto the bed and take two steps back.
"What are you trying to do?" I ask him. He looks down in shame. "Explain to me what the hell you are doing." His bottom lip trembles.
"You were upset, and I-." He stops, his eyes shifting to my face for less than a second before falling back to the floor. "I'm only good at one thing. I thought-." I kneel in front of him, taking his hands into my own.
"Baby, you are great at many things." I tell him softly. "And I want you to understand that your body is yours. Yours. Not mine, not anyone else's. You don't need to feel like allowing men to— to abuse you, is the right thing to do. If someone is upset, or hurt, remember that your body is not a tool they can use for their own healing." He stays silent.
"Do you like when guys hurt you?" I ask him. He sniffles, shaking his head.
"N-no." He whines, wiping his eyes.
"I don't like it either." I whisper, rubbing his cheek. "So together we are going to work on these feelings you have. The feelings that you owe them something. Okay?"
He nods, still not looking at me. I sigh, sitting on the bed, and pulling him against my chest. He sniffles, hiding his face in his hands.
"I'm worse than I was before." He whimpers. "I'm acting like what he did just happened, and it has been months. I'm getting worse. I was better and now it's worse."
"After JiMin died, I would have wonderful days, and I would feel like I was getting better. Then, it all just stopped getting better and I went back to waking up in the hospital. Those awful feelings came back." I admit to him. "I wish I could tell you that one day these bad days go away, but I can't. At least not yet."
"But I can tell you that there are far too many wonderful days with you. Too many beautiful moments." I make him look at me. "I hallucinate, remember? It hasn't happened since the surgery, but we never know. I still might. Do you think I am getting better or worse when I have them?"
"I still think you're getting better." He says, wiping his eyes.
"Exactly, so even with these upset, hurt feelings. I know you get better everyday." I kiss the top of his head. "You know, I haven't made it to the point where it stops hurting, everything that's happened to me in life. My hands still shake, and every day I look at them I remember all of it. And it still hurts, but I can tell you that when I'm with you, the pain isn't so bad. It doesn't hurt as much."
Day 3
HoSeok is smiling again. He sits near me, and watches a movie. He's still sad, I know he is, but he's starting to come back. He's watching a show on TV that's like a quiz show.
"What year did The Oak Ridge Boys release Elvira?" He asks, pouting. "I don't even know who that is."
"Wait, you don't know the Oak Ridge Boys?" I ask him, a little shocked. He blinks slowly, shaking his head. "You are about to learn." I pause the television, walking to my record collection along the wall where a normal bookshelf had been many years ago. I pull out a pink covered vinyl. I let him look at it while I put the record on. I carefully drop the needle at the start of Elvira. He studies the cover.
"They look like some American shit." He says. I put a hand to my heart.
"They are actually really good. Classic even."
"You listen to weird music. Were you even born when this was released?" He raises and eyebrow.
"No, I wasn't. But," I raise a finger, "music is good based on the feeling. The rhythm. The chords. All the records make you feel something. Nostalgia, love, anger, sadness. It's all right there."
"Music is good if you can fuck to it." HoSeok disagrees. "You can't even mock me for not knowing who this is. Do you know Red Velvet?" I shake my head
"Exo, Shinee?" I continue to shake my head. "I can guess the one Korean artist you know." HoSeok challenges. He sits up in his knees. He holds up one finger, almost poking my nose. He repeats speaks Korean for a moment, and I assume he repeated the statement.
"Who?"
"Psy." He raises and eyebrow, and I shake my head. He rolls his eyes. "Come on, like the only kpop song in American a few years ago was Gangnam Style. So fucking annoying."
"I don't know it." I shrug. He stares at me.
"You are the most bleached as Korean." He states.
"Bleached?"
"You're so white. Nasty ass American boy." He shakes his head, talking fast Korean. I understand one word from the sentence, ugly.
"Hey, don't call me ugly." I lightly smack the back of his head, making him laugh.
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"TaeHyung!" HoSeok screams. I jolt awake, hearing him scream again. I barely get a chance to sit up, when he comes sprinting out of the bedroom. He yells my name again, crashing into my lap. He buries his face in my neck breathing deeply. He rambles fast in Korean, his voice shaky and broken. I hush him, holding my arms tight around him. "TaeHyung, TaeHyung-." He continues on in Korean. I make him sit back and look at me.
"Baby, I can't understand you." I say softly. "Remember, you have to speak in English, baby boy. Tell me what's wrong." I wipe the tears from his cheeks.
"He-he kept following me. And I was getting married. And he followed me. And I missed the wedding, because he wouldn't stop." He gasps. "I need a shower, it's on me. It's on me. I want it off! In my hair, he-." He gasps again, reaching towards his hair. I frown in confusion m. There's nothing in it.
"I want it off; TaeHyung, help me." He cries. "In my hair. Stupid. Stupid bitch. Stupid." He smacks his own cheek.
"Hey, hey stop." I whisper, holding his hands. "You're not stupid. What's in your hair, baby?" I ask him as he desperately feels his hair.
"He-," HoSeok stops, struggling to breathe in, "in my hair, he- my wedding day." HoSeok starts to feel lighter in my lap, and I worry he might pass out.
"It was just a bad dream, HoSeok. Just a bad dream. It's all right." I tell him, holding his back so he doesn't collapse. He shudders, the feeling violent in my arms. I let go of him for a moment to grab a blanket. As I turn, I feel him begin to fall backwards. I look quickly, his head leaning back as he begins to tumble to the floor. I quickly grab his nightshirt, holding him suspended in the air to keep him from falling. Carefully, I reach behind his back with one arm and pull him back into me. His head hits against my shoulder harshly. I wrap my arm around him protectively, leaving the blanket where it is. He's only out for a few seconds before he stirs again on my lap.
"Do you want a shower?" I ask him softly. He nods his head, his bottom lip trembling.
"In my hair." He whines. I nod, lifting him up from the couch and carrying him to the bathroom. The clock reads 2:13 in the morning. I set the temperature, helping him take his clothing off.
"Can I join you?" I ask him. "I'll make sure you don't faint again, and get it out of your hair?" He nods, watching me as I strip down as well. I step in first, helping him in after.
"Alright, close your eyes." I say, letting the water flood over his head. I take my time shampooing his hair.
"I want it out." He says softly.
"I'll make sure it's all out. Don't worry."
Day 5
HoSeok is truly starting to come back, his personality fighting its way to the surface. Music plays in the living room, and he dances to it gracefully. This time he isn't drunk. I stand in the kitchen, holding hot tea in my hands. I watch him closely, smiling to myself. He woke me up this morning with a kiss. He blushed harshly and his after, but it was a kiss.
I can tell his medications are starting to take effect again, and he even offers to let me sleep in the bed with him. He leaves for class around noon, and shortly after I leave for work. Neither of us return until later. He's the first home, and I'm greeted by a warm hug. A warm hug that turns into kisses. Kisses that make him giggle again. Before bed, he climbs over top of me, resting his head on my chest and listening to my heart beat. He falls asleep like that.
Day 6
HoSeok sits cross legged in front of me on the bed. I bite my lip, brushing his hair out of his eyes and clipping it with a pink burette with a flower. I smile, sitting back. He blushes, putting a hand under his chin and fluttering his lashes.
"How do I look?" He asks, making a mid twenties accent.
"Little Darlin', you are more purty than a sunflower in fall." I say, holding a hand to my chest as I drawl a southern accent. He blushes again, hiding his face. "Ain't I ever told you 'bout the lightn'n bugs at night?" He shakes his head, leaning closer.
"Well, no, sweetheart, I don't believe you have." He continues in his accent. He looks at me through his dark eyelashes. My breath catches in my throat.
"Lighting bugs flash in sync with their partners." I drop the accent. "It's how they know they should be together." HoSeok is so close to me, that our noses are practically touching. I swallow, feeling nervous in the close proximity. Nervous to spook him.
"Are we in sync?" He whispers, his breath chilling me. He stares down at my lips.
"Perfectly." I reply, and close the distance between us. His hands gather my shirt, pulling himself closer to me. I cup his face, wanting to keep us together as much as I can. He climbs into my lap, and our bodies mold together like they were meant for each other. I'm careful not to rush him, or make him believe I want anything more than this kiss. He separates for only a moment, his eyes scanning across my face.
"I love you.' He says softly, before kissing me again. We stay there for what seems like a mini eternity, breaking kisses just long enough to whisper I love you's. The world around us is meaningless compared to this moment. Neither of us care to stop when his phone rings, neither of us concerned with an end for us.
"I don't want to break up." He shakes his head. His forehead rests against my own. My hands drop to his waist, surprised to easily feel his hip bone. I remember how fragile the boy in my arms is.
"We won't." I say, kissing him once again. I can feel his tears mixing into the kiss, but I know they aren't sad tears. They're tears of joy, of realization. Tears cried for love almost lost.
"I'm sorry." He breaks the kiss again.
"Why?"
"I'm sorry I'm so hurt." He blinks at me, making my heart race.
"I'm sorry, too." I answer. "For all my hurt, too." He stares at me for what feels like a long time before kissing my cheek. His lips trail down to my neck, planting one soft kiss there before returning to kiss my lips. The evening turns into night, both of us too lost in emotion to notice. The night lingers on amidst soft kisses, gentle touches, and whispered promises as two broken people heal.
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Sorry this was so long?
Did you like it?