BY the time I arrive back at my apartment building, my energy is clearly drained, my eyes droopy and I'm a little bit disoriented. The time was nearing midnight but I try to keep myself as awake as possible on the way home. Now that I'm safely back entering my building, I let my guard down and sigh in relief.
Finishing up took a little longer than expected. Getting back in the mood took a while after talking with Yerim. Do I feel a little bit better? Maybe just a little bit, there's no denying that there's still something heavy on my shoulders but at least now someone knows and I feel just a little... relieved?
I fumble around to find my keys as I step out of the elevator on the floor my unit is on. I swear it was in my left coat pocket.... nope, it's in my right pocket dammit.
My steps come to a halt when I see a figure leaning against the wall by my door. He hasn't noticed me yet, which means I can still turn around, go back downstairs and go back home to my parents' house then sleep with Hyekyung. Careful steps carry me backwards but my stupid feet had to land on a creaky floorboard, making him turn his head around and our eyes meet.
Yeosang's expression relaxes and from his posture alone, I can sense the relief washing over him. Although it doesn't apply the same to me; him being here means he could ask a lot of questions which would mean a confrontation which can lead do... me not being able to lie because I just hate being dishonest to Yeosang.
"Dammit, Hyeshin, why are you― why are you out so late?" is the first thing he asks, as if I haven't been ignoring him for the longest time yet.
"I-I..."
Yeosang snatches the keys out of my hand and pushes it into the keyhole, rolling his eyes. "You're sniffling, what were you thinking?"
He shoves me into the house, clicking his tongue as if he's disappointed in me―as he should―but for a completely different reason than he has to. If Yeosang knows something, he definitely doesn't show it. He does everything he usually does; kick his shoes by the door and frown at it when it doesn't land as aligned as he wanted it to be and so he kicks it again, strolls casually into the living room and make a comment on how something was messy.
"What are you doing by the door, idiot, come sit here," he pats the empty spot next to him, signalling for me to take it.
Now, I'm really curious. Why isn't he questioning me?
Yeosang hands me a piece of tissue to which I accept gratefully and shove up my nose with.
"So... I didn't expect to you be out and about today," he begins the conversation, "what were you doing out so late?"
"Finishing my project?"
My best friend quirks a brow. "After a couple of days not going out of the house?"
"It's due tomorrow."
"Oh right," Yeosang nods slowly. "Why are you quiet?"
"Am not," I simply say, hoping Yeosang didn't catch the lying undertones in my voice... but I know he did. The efforts I put in to hide it isn't very great anyway.
He brings his legs up to his chest, giving me squinted eyes before letting out a long sigh.
Yeosang does that a lot, and when he does, he goes into the 'best-friend-Yeosang' mode. It's not that I hate it but it's like all my thoughts could be heard so clear to him, printed into an invisible script in big bold letters nobody else but he could read―I have nowhere to hide. I asked him how he knows one time when we were kids. He said something along the lines of the colour of my face and the angle my brows are arched. I couldn't keep up to what he was saying so I said okay and let it pass. I wish I paid more attention as of right now, I can't tell his next move and I'm curious to know.
Maybe I should say something before he does? To save myself from being questioned too much, from saying too many things. I know he has a lot on his mind too. At least I think so, it's probably the only thing I can tell. But he's trying to ignore it to focus on me... it shouldn't be like that.
"You know, I was surprised you didn't even open your phone the past couple of days," he opts to say, picking his words carefully as if to start The Conversation on a lighter note. "Never thought I'd see the day I'd be willing to buy you two bowls of noodles―which I did―but you never responded."
Okay, not answering was my fault as I didn't even bother looking at my phone. If I'd known then...
"... you would've gone out and had food with me, yes, yes we know, there is no love greater than yours of noodles," Yeosang rolls his eyes. "Seonghwa talked to me―'"
I know Yeosang could tell I visibly flinched, his expression darkening as he knows he's on to something. Though I may never admit it out loud, it's uncomfortable enough having Yeosang here and hearing his name brought a violent twist in my heart. Such feelings aren't physical, San wouldn't feel a thing, but it's so strong I'm starting to think San is wondering why his heartstrings are being pulled.
"―Seonghwa, he waited for you and you didn't answer," he continues, "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been worried and didn't tell anyone about it, that's why Yunho texted you. Honestly I was planning on waiting our in front of your door 'til you run out of groceries or something."
"San has been worrying over you too, you know? He knows something happened back at the resort, he didn't want to ask you nor Seonghwa because he felt like it's something private."
My fingers subconsciously draw circular patterns on the surface of my couch. San, San, San, why?
"We all have questions and okay, maybe I'm making this seem like you're going to make a life-changing decision or something..." I cringe at that. Yeosang has no idea.
"I know I can't get a lot of answers tonight, you look like you just need a lot of comfort. But maybe after this, when you feel a lot lot better―and yes, a little better is not good enough―you and I can talk and I'll help you."
There are so many things I want to tell him, so so many. It only takes ten seconds of bravery to say it out loud and judging by his expression, I have a feeling Yeosang has a rough idea as to what it's all about.
"You know I can never get mad at you," he adds quietly, so quiet I almost miss it. My eyes brim with tears at that, I blink them away.
Yeosang is a very understanding person, he never pushes, he never forces. That's probably why I feel an immense amount of guilt that night, lying in my bed and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. I learnt that he wasn't only here to talk with me, Donghoon was back home and he wanted to get away but he insisted on going back home to give me space. He left a long, long time ago. Time had easily passed by for hours and yet I'm still wide awake.
He was definitely feeling an emotion when I called him back, trying to get him to stay because my place is his place too. Yeosang tells me I need a clear mind to think about what he's told me and he always have, he's managed to convince me into talking to Seonghwa the next day.
It's been three in the morning all the last seven times I pressed on the home button on my phone. All my notifications are cleared now, leaving a blank lockscreen with a default wallpaper. My eyes wander across the screen, somewhere at the back of my skull throbbing because of the contrast of light but whatever, I need something to distract myself.
I toss and turn and by the time morning comes, a corner of my bed sheets would have probably gone un-tucked but no matter how I tried to lay down, sleep wont come.
That didn't explain how my fingers suddenly press on a familiar album in my music library and Seonghwa's soft voice lingers in the air again.
I lay there for a while. Actually, I have no idea how long this so-called 'while' was. Maybe it was seconds? Minutes? Hours? But listening to Seonghwa's voice calms me down and I forget about the universe, the marks, the stardust and focus on him. And how I love him, and how he loves me and how we went through a lot of days together.
Fear is the only thing making this bigger than it is. You know, maybe I had nothing to worry about. It's a huge world, the problem I have may not be the smallest but it certainly isn't the biggest. And for all I know, Yerim could be right. There's always a next life, there had been a previous life―a life where mine and Seonghwa's souls has never met and will never meet, both in completely different bodies.
3 am is good for deep thoughts, they say, it's the Witching Hour. The Witching Hour was when the BFG comes, according to an old childhood novel my teacher read in class one day. All these thoughts that are starting to make sense to me and that I'm slowly accepting is probably him blowing a dream into my bedroom. Strangely, these strings of voices that would have scared me just a week before is beginning to feel like a sense of comfort.
I start to see the better side of things. Realisation comes to me, slow at first, but gradually getting faster that all this time I'd been focusing on a small dot that I never saw the bigger picture.
My life, even though some events didn't go as smooth as I wanted it to, was perfect as it is. The blessings I've got in just one go, as I come to notice, is so much more than I deserve and I'm really fortunate to have them. I have a boyfriend whom I love very much, I have a caring best friend and at the same time, I found my star mate? I've definitely taken all this for granted.
So, using that ten seconds of bravery, I press on Seonghwa's contact for the first time in days and open our chatroom. Naturally, I hesitate―should I call? Should I text? In the end, I choose to press on the dial button, figuring out that the ten seconds of bravery would literally only last ten seconds and if I messaged him, I'd chicken out and press the unsend button.
Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, rather), Seonghwa picks up on the second ring and my heart nearly escapes the safety of my chest as I hear the rustling on the other side of the line.
"Oh my Goodness, Hyeshin," Seonghwa's voice is low and raspy, but not scratchy enough to mean that he was sleeping beforehand. He sounds relieved, dare I say, as a sigh escapes his lips.
"Seonghwa?" I say, voice a little too high-pitched with nervousness but I surprise myself for being able to call him.
"Yes, darling, I'm here."
I almost cry, honestly.
"Seonghwa can you come?"
As I put on the thickest coat I could find, I spy a half-finished painting I started weeks ago but never got to complete. The object puts hesitation in my steps, but deciding I'll look at it later when the sun is up, I slip on some my slippers and let myself walk into the Witching Hour.
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oh wow i missed updating jskjfds i was meant to like a week ago but hahaha i didnt rlly have the best time last week. anyways, how are you guys? i hope youre well and that youre getting the noodle consumption you all deserve<3
what if i tell you there are about 4 chapters to go?
oops?
sorry if there are any grammar/spelling mistakeshwjsj im rereading this half asleep so according to half asleep me this is good to go but u never know