► don't wanna cry - seventeen

Even if he wanted to turn away, Wonwoo couldn’t do that any longer, standing in front of room number 19 with trembling hands, Mingyu and Minghao beside him. His throat was dry and his lips were chapped, Wonwoo felt like and he was sure he looked like .

“… Let me,” Mingyu suddenly said, pushing him gently aside to Minghao, who caught him into his arms when his legs giveaway. Mingyu gave him one last look before he pressed the doorbell next to the door, and he also knocked for good measure.

It’s silence for a second behind the door before they could hear a scream, “Don’t—open it!” followed by hurried steps, and another shout, angrier now, of someone’s name, “Park Sooyoung!”

Then the door was opened, revealing someone who definitely wasn’t Wonwoo’s soulmate. She was shorter though beautiful all the same – less, in Wonwoo’s inability to being fair right now – with long, dark hair, slender neck, and lips that donned red lipstick. Mingyu who had been leaning on one foot stood straighter, subtly fixing his hair by tilting his head sideway.

“Hi,” the girl said, a little bit out of breath. She did a quick look across the three of them before her gaze immediately fell back to Wonwoo, obviously noting the condition he was in and deciding that he must be the one. There's something akin to pity on her eyes when she addresed him, "... Soulmate? Come on in."

Right when Wonwoo stepped into the apartment, they heard a shout, clearer now that they’re inside, yet it sounded strained like the person’s speaking was struggling. “Don’t—let him—in!” Despite the harshness of the words, Wonwoo’s mind could only muster up the thought that it’s his soulmate’s voice that he heard.

“… Lovely,” Mingyu said under his breath. The girl in front of them glanced at him and it made Minghao smacked Mingyu’s arm for his rudeness, but she brushed it away.

“She’s inside,” she nodded to the room to their side where the door’s slightly opened. It’s dark beyond the door, Wonwoo couldn’t see anything. “I’m Sooyoung, by the way, that stubborn kid’s friend. She’s been like that since… Since she met you, I guess. She doesn’t have fever, but she says it hurts—”

“—everywhere,” Mingyu said alongside Sooyoung, who spared him another glance before she continued.

“—and she’s rambling a lot… Also, as you can see, she becomes a sweet, sweet, ball of sunshine…,” Sooyoung rolled her eyes when she said this and Mingyu snorted, “… but believe me, normally she’s not like this. I think it’s… the pain that upsets her. Please just get better, you two.”

Wonwoo swallowed, realizing that his head was no longer throbbing, but his heart just couldn’t seem to calm down. It no longer hurt – it itched, in the pit of his stomach, on the tip of his fingers they tingled – he felt restless; his body’s begging him to do something. And his thread kept on tugging at him, disappearing behind the door his soulmate’s supposed to be in.

Minghao rubbed his back for encouragement and Wonwoo took his steps cautiously, his mind’s still questioning his decision to meet his soulmate. Is this the right choice? What will happen between them after? What about cutting their thread? What about San—

“Oh Hayoung.”

Wonwoo turned his head to Sooyoung. The girl was smiling at him albeit it looked sad. “… Her name. It’s Oh Hayoung.”

Oh Hayoung.

He’s back in Hwayang Red Thread Hospital’s waiting room.

White oversized sweater, shoulder-length hair she let fall onto her shoulders – but she carried a red hairband, it’s on her right wrist, while on her left is a watch with brown leather strap – dark jeans, boots with a 3cm heels. Big eyes, tall nose that gave her a distinct look, and those pink lips, slightly parted because she’s taken aback with the appearance of her soulmate…

Oh Hayoung.

Wonwoo took the last steps, leaving his friends, the apartment, the rest of the world behind, and stepped into the room. The curtains were drawn shut, the sun light seeped through the fabric gave the room a dim light and it took seconds before his eyes could adjust to see in the dark. There’s a lump on the bed, under the blanket, unmoving. When he pushed the door behind him close, the sound's alarming of his presence, that's when the lump moved. 

Hayoung pulled the blanket down, revealing herself, and Wonwoo felt like he’s staring into a mirror. He could make out her messy hair, the deep eye-bag under her eyes, the quivering, chapped lips, and his heart break for her. He wanted to take away her pain.

“Why?” She gritted her teeth, jaw clenching. Wonwoo could see the anger in her eyes, her pride that reminded him of his own but he also saw something else there. “Why are you— … here?” Hayoung choked on the last word, starting to crumble but unable to accept the defeat. It pained him even more, because he knew what she felt, what’s on her mind.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo whispered hoarsely, feeling how dry his throat was as he inched closer to the bed. He wanted to reach out so bad, to take her into his embrace, to fix this. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Emotions flashed by on Hayoung’s eyes – Wonwoo wondered if his voice had the same effect on her as her voice to him – before they overwhelmed her. “What—,” she held back a sob, finally falling apart, “What took you so long?”

Wonwoo reached out at the same time Hayoung did, almost leaping as he scrambled to get on the bed. As soon as his hand met hers, she gripped onto it like it’s her lifeline, and Wonwoo just glad she did because he felt the same.

It’s like—coming home after a long, tiring journey, a hot shower after being drenched in the rain, a glass of cold water under the scorching sun, it’s everything that’s good in life and it’s everything that Wonwoo would ever need.

The pain – the throbbing, the cold, the itch, all of them – gone in an instant, but it’s not enough, not close enough, not long enough—

Wonwoo pulled Hayoung into his arms and it’s as if he could breathe again for the first time. Hayoung buried her face on his chest, taking a deep breath like she’s trying to inhale his scent, yet at the same time Wonwoo could see she’s balling up her fists, still trying to hold back after she gained her consciousness back.

“I’m sorry…,” Wonwoo repeated in a whisper; he’s sorry that he’s here, he’s sorry that they had to go through the pain, he’s sorry that he couldn’t hold it any longer, he’s sorry. “Please, just—I’m sorry. Please...”

Hayoung didn’t respond and he didn’t even know anymore what he’s apologizing for or what he’s pleading for, and the concept of time and space was momentarily forgotten as they’re holding each other, falling and falling…

***

Wonwoo’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he registered in his mind was how he just had the best sleep he’d ever had. Then he realized the weight on top of his arm and he looked down to his soulmate’s face – Hayoung, still sleeping using his arm as her pillow, her own circled on his waist like she didn’t want to ever let go.

Slowly, the memories came back to him, from the moment they first met at the hospital, the days gone by, and how he came to her apartment—earlier? Yesterday? Wonwoo realized just now that he didn’t know the time, or the day, and suddenly he remembered about his work and—

A blonde girl, smiling at him, calling his name in the sweetest way possible.

Wonwoo swallowed at the thought. What now?

His thoughts were cut short when Hayoung stirred awake and Wonwoo quickly closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He just knew that Hayoung wouldn’t like the fact that she clung on him on her sleep.

His guess was proven to be true when he felt the sudden loss of weight and warmth from his side, too sudden as Hayoung detached herself from him. But then it’s quiet, he sensed no movement from her, and he couldn’t help but to keep pretending.

Nothing happened for a while he started to itch to move, but then he felt it – the careful touch on his hair, brushing his fringe away from his eyes. It’s so cautious Wonwoo barely felt it, but it’s there, and his insides felt like it’s on fire.

Then the next second the feeling was gone as Hayoung pulled herself away, climbing down the bed. She paced around in the room, trying to be quiet in whatever she’s doing like she didn’t want to wake him up, before finally her steps wandered away.

Wonwoo heard voices outside the room, someone conversing with Hayoung, and he waited a few seconds before he opened his eyes. He sat up, trying to ignore the loss of Hayoung’s presence and the impulsive side in the back of his mind that wanted to follow after her. He looked around the room, grasping Hayoung’s personality from the pictures of her family on the desk, the books on the shelves, the way she decorated the place.

Wonwoo sighed and finally got off of bed, realizing just now how sweaty he was, and he tried to remember the last time he took a shower. A wave of embarrassment hit him when he did remember, because he also remembered how Hayoung buried her nose on his chest. Wonwoo grimaced, hoping that it’s a topic they would never talk about.

But if he did smell terrible, Hayoung certainly didn’t show that she minded…

He looked down at his left pinky finger and furrowed his eyebrows a little, this whole soul binding was crazier than what he had seen in movies and read in books.

When Wonwoo went out from Hayoung’s room, he saw someone’s sitting by the kitchen counter. It’s Hayoung’s friend… that Wonwoo couldn’t remember the name.

“Sooyoung,” she smiled at him, noticing that he didn’t remember. Wonwoo murmured his apology, but she just waved her hand dismissively. “Seeing your condition yesterday, I doubt you can remember anything. That’s right, yesterday, to be exact, hmm… Seventeen hours ago.”

“Seventeen—?”

“Yeeep. I even had to check on you two, to make sure you guys are still alive. By the way, your friends left last night, but they came back to bring your clothes,” Sooyoung nodded at the duffel bag on the couch. “I believe your phone’s there, too. It rang several times when I’m here.”

Wonwoo nodded, averting his gaze from Sooyoung’s scrutinizing one. He noticed the small tug at his red thread that went into a door next to the kitchen. He had the sudden urge to open the door, he missed her…

Sooyoung who apparently was watching him let out an obnoxious snort. “Relax, Romeo, she’s just taking a shower, will be back in five… God knows when the last time she showered…,” she murmured, turning around in her seat. “If meeting your soulmate is like… that, I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

Wonwoo ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flushed red. He took a seat next to Sooyoung who handed him a glass. “… You haven’t meet your soulmate?”

“Nooope. I have it, though,” Sooyoung held up her right hand, staring at something Wonwoo couldn’t see. He filled his glass with tap water, staring absent-mindedly at Sooyoung who's must be looking at her own fate thread. He flinched when Sooyoung suddenly turned to him. “Hey. Your friend. The tall, dark, always smirking one. The one who doesn’t have an accent.”

“… Um. Mingyu?”

“Mingyu. Does he…?” Sooyoung didn’t finish her sentence, just looking at Wonwoo expectantly like he’s supposed to know what she’s going to say.

“… Have met his soulmate…?” He tried to guess. At Sooyoung's eager nod, he continued, “Um, yes. It’s Minghao. The one with an accent.”

“Oh…,” Sooyoung sounded a little bit disappointed. Suddenly Wonwoo remembered how Mingyu also mock-called him with the nickname Romeo. “Well, are they together?”

“Huh? Ah, no. They’re best friend. Soulmates, but no... They’re not seeing each other. I believe they tried before… It didn’t work,” he said. He didn’t know why he told her all of this. But Sooyoung seemed interested in Mingyu, and Mingyu… If Wonwoo’s memory was correct, he seemed interested in Sooyoung too. Well, even if his memory was wrong, there’s no way Mingyu wouldn’t be interested in someone like Sooyoung.

“Hmm. So I guess you can be friend with your soulmate too,” Sooyoung said, more to herself. “But I bet it , dating someone who would drop anything, anytime, for someone else… It’s probably better to be in love with your soulmate.”

Wonwoo didn’t answer, keeping his gaze down to the glass of water in his hand. Suddenly aware he hadn’t drink it since earlier, he gulped it down.

“Aaanyway. I have to go now,” Sooyoung stood up from her seat. “There’s food in the microwave, I heated them earlier. I’m sure you two are starving. And, Wonwoo—”

Wonwoo realized just now that he had never introduce himself to the girl.

“—I don’t know about you, but Hayoung is… unbelievably stubborn, and this whole cutting the thread thing, I hope you two can talk about it. Whatever’s the best, I just wish… I don’t want to see her like that again. Here’s my number if you need it.” Sooyoung scribbled down her number in a piece of post-it paper on the kitchen counter. “Please stay another day if you can. Just… to make sure.”

He nodded quietly, taking the paper from Sooyoung’s hand. She gave him a smile before she left. She's nice, Wonwoo thought, and he briefly wondered about Hayoung's other friends... and family. Did they know about her decision, or they were in the dark, just like his family?

It didn’t take long for Hayoung to finish her shower, and when she stepped out from the bathroom, Wonwoo’s heart thumped harder involuntarily. The third time he saw her and it’s still like the first time, she still took his breath away.

The second she spottem him, her lips were pressed into a tight line, and her expression was shooled into a neutral one. "... You can use the shower," she said, tone sounded distant like she recited a line from a book. "We'll talk after tham."

Wonwoo found himself nodding even though he felt disappointed with her attitude, but honestly what did he expect? For her to jump into his embrace like yesterday? He tried to remind himself that he wanted to cut his thread just a couple of days ago.

He grabbed his bag from the couch and walked to the bathroom without sparing a glance at Hayoung, who moved away when he passed by as if he’s a plague she had to avoid.

As soon as he’s inside the bathroom, Wonwoo went to the sink and washed his face harshly with the running water, rubbing his eyes several times. When he’s done and looked up to the mirror, it wasn’t his reflection that he saw – it was a blonde girl, smiling at him, calling his name with the sweetest way possible.

Umm. I'm sorry. I want to start writing again, I really do, and I update this first because when I started this story I've planned this to be a short story with lazy-writing, that's why it's the easiest to continue. When I re-read my old stories I just wonder how I could write them, now my writing's terrible, please excuse the simple, repetitive words.