Every day Junjin returned home wishing that Andy would jump behind some wall and admit he had been only joking. Every day Junjin checked that the clothes were back in the shelves on neat piles. Every day Junjin checked that the other toothbrush had returned beside the blue one. The man entered the bedroom, opened the closet and looked at the white shirts Andy always wore. He took one in his ginormous hands and pressed his nose to it, sniffing in the intoxicating and familiar scent of his boyfriend. Others had lost their hope for Andy’s comeback. But Junjin waited him still.

A year later:

The apartment floor was filled with boxes full off stuff Junjin wanted with him to his new place. In the end, Andy had not come back, and paying an apartment for two had gotten difficult. Junjin had decided to move to his parents’ house until he could get himself a place to live. The man emptied the shelves from his clothes, when his hands sensed something on the way uppermost shelf, way at the back. Oh yeah…Junjin remembered now.

He pulled out the white shirts and looked at them, finger brushing on the fabric. One night, he had been too drunk; so drunk that he had gotten angry and had thrown the shirts around the room. He had screamed Andy’s name endlessly.

Junjin pressed his nose to the fabric.

After a year it still smelled; faintly.

The smell of Lee Sun Ho.

Junjin felt the bed under his bottom, as he was still sniffing the fabric. His eyes were stinging from tears and shortly they rolled down the cheeks, as the thumb fumbled on the shirt and wished for a little bit of the familiar scent to appear. Junjin curled his arms around the clothing, crying into it, leaving tear marks everywhere, remembering how happy they had been, how much they had been in love. He saw the nights Andy came to the bed and he was wearing his shirt. He imagined their first kiss in the apartment, how intense it had been and how fast the shirt Andy had worn had been removed.

They had been so happy.

Now Junjin was without Andy, missing him, imagining him. He was suffocating in the empty room, but at least he had the image of Andy in his mind. Hol