Before it got tangled and spiraled out of control,
I spun every thread of my emotions into a neat little ball.
One night, at that darkest hour before sunrise,
I buried it, looked up, and saw lavender skies.
-- J., 2017
Why did he do that?
Why did he volunteer to make a stranger his responsibility?
Sometimes, even Jihoon couldn't understand himself. His father always said he was too impulsive. Too reckless. Too temperamental.
To be successful, a man had to reel in his emotions with stern logic.
No matter how much he wanted to prove his father wrong, time and time again, he failed.
Case in point: what happened today.
Jihoon jammed his thumb against the unlock button on his car key with unnecessary force.
As if in protest, his car, or more precisely the car his company lent him, let out a prolonged beep. Jumping back, he dropped the key.
"Oh for god's sake!"
Exhaling a drawn-out puff of air, he bent down to retrieve it. Then, Jihoon opened the door and got in, shivering as he turned on the engine. Surely, he was a fool.
No matter how much he failed, he never learned.
Didn't he flee--- no, not flee.
Didn't he pursue better opportunities outside the US to start afresh? Once he got to China, didn't he promise not to get involved with anyone until he fixed his mess of a life? Yet, here he was again doing the exact opposite of what he had planned. First, by trying to pursue Yiwen, who was not only his subordinate but was also already in a relationship. Then with Yingyue, who he was using as a distraction to postpone having to confront his issues.
God, he was a jerk the way he was intending to use others.
A jerk and a fool.
Jihoon pounded the steering wheel. This time, he accidentally hit the car horn. He jerked back, muttering a curse.
"Goddammit!" What was wrong with him? He got what he wanted, didn't he?
Jihoon yanked on the seatbelt. It took several tries and a few more choice words before he finally heard a click. Leaning back against the seat, he closed his eyes and tuned in to the sound of his breathing.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Everything's gonna be alright.
His breath hitched. All at once, he was flooded with images.
Her voice. And the phrase she so often whispered.
Everything's gonna be alright.
Whispered into his ear, her hands on his chest. Her lips on his brow. And the way she dug her fingers on his back every time they kissed.
"Leila."
Jihoon squeezed his eyes tighter.
He hadn't said her name in so long. The syllables tasted of honeyed poison. So tempting, yet so lethal. His throat constricted. The muscles on his stomach clenched. In the darkness, he saw her starlit eyes and dimpled smile.
Like an addict, he ached for more.
So he imagined her tangled hair on his pristine sheets. Her favorite pair of red heels on his black tiled floor. Unbidden, he once again felt the sticky crimson liquid trickling down her face into his cold hands.
At once, Jihoon wanted it to end.
Jihoon wanted to die.
Instead, he opened his eyes and let the light scatter it all.
Clutching his chest with one hand, he dug into his pocket for his vibrating phone with the other. Pulling it out, he saw it was his mother video calling him on Wechat. Running his fingers through his hair to make sure he looked decent, Jihoon forced his body to relax, then pressed 'accept.'
"Son," she said in Chinese, her face occupying most of the screen, "how are you?"
"Hi, ma! I'm good."
"You're not yet at work?"
He checked the time. It was already nine. "Uh, not yet. What's up?"
"We haven't talked in so long. I'm worried about you."
"Ma..." Jihoon leaned his head against the car window. "We talked a week ago. There's nothing to worry about."
"I know. Only that--" she propped her chin against her palm. "--you're so far away. Knowing you, you're always drowning yourself in work. Are you even sleeping enough these days? Even from here, I see you have panda eyes."
A corner of his lips quirked, while he moved the phone away from his face. "Nah, it's the video quality. I sleep enough." At most three hours a day.
"That's good." She sounded unconvinced. "Are you going out to meet new people?"
"Yeah, I've met a couple of people." Most of them from work. "Everything is fine. Don't worry."
"Really?" she switched to English, lines creasing her forehead.
"Really." He switched, too. "Anyway, how's appa?"
A long-suffering sigh blasted through his phone's speakers. "Your father hasn't returned from golf yet. That's all he ever does these days. Golf here, golf there, golf everywhere!"
He chuckled. "Well, at least it keeps him busy. And sports keeps the body fit."
"Hmph." She straightened. "He spends more time eating out after each game than actually playing it. If he keeps this up, his stomach will be so big, it will be so easy to roll him down a hill."
Jihoon smiled at his mother's turn of phrase.
"Which reminds me," she continued, "I have to give your appa a call. Make sure he remembers to bring home the things I asked him to buy."
"All right, ma. I have to go, too."
"Work starts soon, right?"
Jihoon made a vague sound.
"Okay, then. Talk to you later, Jihoon-ah," she said, adopting the Korean way of softening his name. "Don't forget to eat your meals, okay? And make sure you get enough sleep."
"Yes, yes, I will. By--"
"Wait--"
"Yep?" Jihoon asked.
This time, his mother looked serious. Jihoon noticed how grooves have dug themselves on her once smooth face and wondered how much of it was due to her worrying about him.
"You're sure you're okay?" his mother asked for the umpteenth time.
Despite the distance, Jihoon felt her concern wrapping around him until he found it difficult to breathe. With effort, Jihoon stretched his lips into some semblance of a smile. This was another reason he moved to a country halfway across the world. "Yes, ma, I'm fine."
She remained silent, simply staring.
Jihoon hated it when she did that. Ever since he was young, his mother had always been able to read him. The only way he got her off his back was by diverting her attention, so he added, "Seriously! Everything's great. In fact, I'm spending the Lunar New Year with a woman I met recently."
At once, she brightened. "Oh, that's wonderful! Your sister will be so happy to hear that."
Jihoon rolled his eyes, "What does Jae-hee noona have to do with this?"
"She's been worried, too, you know. By the way, who is this woman?"
He lifted a shoulder. "Just a friend."
"Someone from work?" she persisted.
Jihoon stifled a groan. "No, we don't work together. Anyway, ma, I really have to go or I'm going to be late. Talk to you later, yeah?"
"Okay, okay. You better call me soon. And by soon, I mean tomorrow. Not a week later!"
"I will. I will." He won't. "Talk soon." He ended the call.
Otherwise, it would have gone on forever.
Shrugging out of his coat, Jihoon threw his hands around the steering wheel and rested his head against it. Now he'd done it. For sure, they'll keep bugging him about his mystery woman. Wincing at the seat belt digging against his chest, Jihoon sat back up.
Whatever.
What was done was done. Besides, he'd rather deal with his family's excitement, even if it was about his made up love life, than their constant concern. And about Yingyue, he had promised to take care of her and that was what he was going to do.
"I mean the girl has no one else," he reasoned.
Yeah, as a decent human being, it was his moral obligation to make sure she was okay. He just had to make sure in the process, he didn't mess up her life, too.
Pulling away from his parking spot, Jihoon focused on the things he had to do. Before he left, she had asked him to get the things she needed from her house. Even though he was happy to buy them for her to avoid invading her private space, Yingyue argued she didn't want to be further beholden to him.
"Besides," she had replied, "I have no skeletons in my closet."
Except when the topic of underwear came up, she did all she could to avoid his gaze. All the while, she had managed to keep a blasé tone. Jihoon had struggled not to let his amusement show.
Now, he grinned at the memory.
☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾
Jihoon found the wooden gate leading to Yingyue's house open. He must have forgotten to pull it close in his hurry to get her to the hospital.
Thinking she got robbed, Jihoon raced to the front door and stumbled over removing his shoes. When he got inside, he was rendered immobile. Quickly forgetting about the potential theft, he slowly turned around in a circle and examined everything with his lips parted.
Her house was a page off his vision of an ideal home.
Wooden beams along the ceiling the same dark chocolate color as the hardwood floor accentuated beige walls. An electric fireplace made with gleaming marble held center stage. Above it was a widescreen television. In front of it, a white L-shaped sofa adorned pillows in muted shades of yellow, grey, and brown beckoned him to rest. A bowl of clementines and a tea set rested on the coffee table. Adding splashes of color were a mint green rug and strategically placed potted plants.
Jihoon approached the wall opposite the fireplace, where floating shelves carried a selection of books, photos, and various knick-knacks. From the titles, he discovered her interest in finance and investments. Pondering that surprising tidbit, he brushed his hands against a furry sheepskin rug casually thrown over a wicker chair next to him.
Continuing his exploration, he walked towards the glass wall dominating one side of the room. It provided the perfect frame for the courtyard beyond. There, Plum trees and Wintersweet shrubs displayed their delicate pink, white, and golden blooms. Spotting a doorknob on one of the panes, Jihoon twisted it open and stepped outside.
A sweet scent tickled his nostrils. Jihoon took in his fill and watched as a gentle breeze ruffled thin branches and pushed tiny petals off their perilous perch. They lept, swirled, and hung suspended before making their graceful landing. Unlike the courtyard by her gate where the wall was low enough for him to leap over, here, a towering block of white cement shielded him from prying eyes. Standing there, he felt insulated from the world beyond. Everything was diffused, muted.
It was then he understood why Yingyue was desperate to go home. Her home was a slice of escapism, hidden in the midst of a bustling metropolitan.
For a week, he, too, could get lost here.
Whistling, Jihoon went back inside and finished his inspection. Fortunately, nothing seemed out of place or obviously missing. When Yingyue was back, he was going to ask her to check again to be sure. Satisfied, he quickly got what he needed then called work to make the necessary arrangements for his absence. Then, he drove to his apartment to shower and get his things.
On his way back to the hospital, a sudden realization struck him.
Jihoon was excited.
The next few days, it was going to be just him and her, without past nor future, buried in that tiny corner, where they could shut out everything else.
Whether his decision was right or wrong, he would think about it later.
At the moment, he was going to do what he did best---
Run away and forget everything else.
☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾ ☽ ☾
Author's note:
Slowly but surely, right? What have you guys been up to? I went to Barcelona for the first time last week and felt inspired to write. I have so much planned for this story. The challenge is actually finding the time to put my thoughts into words.
Also, recently, I've been watching architecture videos and I absolutely love the Optical Glass House by Hiroshi Nakamura. Check it out if you don't know what I'm talking about. It's how I imagine Yingyue's house would feel like.