¤¤¤¤¤

“Are you eating well?” Sehun spoke to the little chicks walking around him. Squatting in the center of the chicken house outside he watched the furry animals noisily chirp around him. Scoffing, he said, “You won’t even play with me. Olly would play with me.”

Standing he stretched and stared up at the fresh blue sky. The weather was warm, perfect for a dip in the lake. Nice enough for an hour-long nap. Best for a date. Staring straight ahead he pushed aside the oncoming thought of Namjoo in his head. It was painful whenever she entered his mind, so he tried not to go there.

“What are you doing over there?! It’s lunch!” his mother called from the pathway that led to her large garden. Behind that was their home. Even more beyond that was the shack he was using. They had renovated it when he wanted more privacy during high school. Removing the old tool shelves and replacing them with a bed, desk, and whatever he had wanted.

“Eat up. Your mother made your favorite,” his father urged when he sat at the table. The lean old man with graying hair wore glasses. Like always, there was a newspaper folded at the side. Still obsessed about economics and if their farm could withstand the coming years. Planning ahead, his father always preached, needs to be done in life, so you know where you’re going. Maybe he was right.

His round mother adoringly watched him stuff himself.  “Have a glass of water. Don’t choke now. Geez, you look so famished. Have you been eating all right?” To her husband, “I knew he wouldn’t be all right all alone. Someone should have gone with him.”

“He’s fine,” his father brushed her off.

Sehun had come back to Busan. He needed time to himself, a lot of air to breathe in order to clear his thoughts. Being close to Namjoo made him want too much. Being too close to Namjoo hurt them both.

He needed to think in order to understand whether his efforts had been for naught or if he could try again when he returned. He wanted to be cool about it if Namjoo said no, because in his current state he’d probably break. Wanting her too much, loving her too much.

He helped wash dishes then headed out to tend the fields with his mother. The homegrown watermelons were ripe, the cucumbers ready to eat, the corn stalks almost as tall as him. His parents would be selling a lot, eating a lot, saving a lot. Food for winter his mother always repeated. Sehun worked to kill the weeds, the most perfect task that took everything off his mind. Then they’d rest and his mother would peel cucumber for him, his father breaking a small watermelon open with his fist. Sitting around they’d talk and gossip about what had been going on since he’d been gone. It was nice to be home.

Turning in for the evening he took his stuff and went for a shower in the house, washing off the sweat, dirt, and grime. Stepping out with the towel slung over his shoulder he called out to his parents, “I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

“Ok. Let us know if you need anything,” his mother called from the kitchen.

A cool breeze slid across his skin when he opened the door. Stepping outside he crossed the yard. Once he reached the dirt lane he shot a glance toward the highway that led into the city. The mountains were high but far. He suddenly thought about the night he and Namjoo had climbed the mountain behind his apartment. The stars had shimmered brightly almost as if they had been watching and praying for them to fall in love. Across the skyline a nearly translucent cloud stretched for miles. No stars tonight.

Sehun watched a car whizz past then went on his way. Peace and quiet buzzed around him. It was a small space as he remembered, but it was always good enough for him. Just a place to sleep, to be alone. His own private space away from observing eyes.

In front of him his twin sized bed. To the right a desk and a tiny shelf attached to it. His suitcase lay on the floor to his left where there used to be a portable closet. It must have worn down over time since he’d been gone. When he came back it was gone. Or maybe rats had gotten to it.

Draping his towel over the chair to dry he switched the bulb off and climbed into bed. The small wooden structure was sturdy enough that it wouldn’t crumble under the weight of a thunderstorm. As his head hit the pillow he stared out the window where the full moon shone. It was a ghoulish sight. Would be even more freaky if a face popped up out of nowhere. Sehun laughed to himself at the thought.

A short time passed. A soft knock at the door made his eyes flutter open. He groaned sleepily, glanced out the window hoping there wouldn’t be a face peering in. Of course there was nothing. Rubbing his forehead he sat up, heard the soft knock again. Turning his phone he verified it was 1:30AM. His parents would be dead asleep and knowing how deeply his father slept, he wouldn’t even hear it if a robber came by. Who the hell was out there?

Throwing the blanket over he crept out of bed. Slowly starting toward the door not knowing what to expect he reached for the knob and opened it. In front of him the landscape of corn stalks slowly swayed in the wind. The smell of garden air wafted toward him and then transitioned into a scent he recognized. Loose tendrils floated with the oncoming wind and slowly his eyes landed on the figure before him, beautiful and serene.

“Hi,” her soft voice greeted.

His heart melted.

Namjoo’s eyes scanned the shack, “Can I come in?”

His lips moved, but he couldn’t say anything. He made room for her anyway.

“Your car was out front,” Namjoo started.

Setting a small duffel bag beside his suitcase she observed his tiny shack. For some reason, he was embarrassed now.

“You’re staying here?”

Reminded of why he first came he stomped past her, climbed into bed, and yanked the blanket over him. He would ignore her. If Namjoo got the message she’d leave. Silence wove over them and a little moment later, felt Namjoo’s weight on the bed. Peeking he saw that she was sitting with her back to him.

Sehun quickly stared at the wall when Namjoo suddenly lay beside him. His heart thrashed, completely fought to escape from behind his chest. It was so loud in his head he worried Namjoo could hear it.

They lay there with his blood rushing, no words said. They weren’t even touching, but he was tensing. After refusing him, after treating him like nothing Namjoo had the nerve to follow him. Aggravated, reminded fully of how she was hurting him he sat up. “I can’t do this anymore! Why are you here?!”

“I missed you.” She somberly admitted.

The anger disappeared as fast as it had come. He wanted to hug her, hold her tight, whisper into her ear that it was all right. He could forgive her. He would still love her. He would never ever leave her. Yet he sat there watching her stare up at the ceiling with her big, round eyes shining like diamonds.

“When Yeol died, I drank a lot by myself. I wanted to die with him,” her voice quiet bore an edge of pain, “should I hang myself? Slit my wrist? When I went to buy the rope, I couldn’t do it. When I held that knife, I was scared. But I missed him so much. He was in my kitchen, at the table, watching movies with me, in my bed. I want to hold him again, but he won’t come back to me. I used to call out for him when I set the table, but he can’t eat with me. Then I’d drink some more…”

His insides trembled. His heart pained for her. He touched her face before lying back down and pulled her into his arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “I didn’t know.”

“I’m trying. I’ll try harder not to think about him,” Namjoo buried her face into his neck, “so don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.” Sehun combed his hand into her hair. “But Namjoo, I don’t want you to forget about him. I just don’t want you to have such a hard time. If you hurt, I’ll hurt with you.”

“I like you, Oh Sehun,” Namjoo looked up at him then slid up to kiss him.

When she broke off he stared at her breathless. “Thank you, for coming.”

The smile on her face melted all the tension away. They hugged again and this time he let her into the blanket with him. They slept that night in each other’s arms.

¤¤¤¤¤

Namjoo just pulled her hair up into a ponytail when Sehun opened the door entering with a tray of food.

“I brought breakfast,” Sehun told.

Walking over she peered down at the food. “Your mom’s a good cook. Did they say anything?”

“Besides assuming I’m hiding a secret out here from them, we’re good,” Sehun smiled at her.

“You must look suspicious. You’ve suddenly returned home and now you’re not eating with them anymore. I think I’d have something to say, too.” Namjoo agreed. Sehun patted the chair for her to sit on. “What about you?”

“It’s all right. I’ll stand.”

“You shouldn’t stand when we’re eating,” Namjoo chided. She looked around then walked over to his suitcase and flipped it onto its back.

Smacking its flat surface she said, “Lets eat here.”

“Hey, that’s my stuff.” 

“The food won’t get on it. It’s fine.”

Sehun scowled. When they settled she picked up her spoon, “Just one?”

“My parents are going to say something if I brought two. My mom has sharp eyes,” Sehun excused. “Why? You don’t want to share germs with me?”

“No, it just makes eating much more of a hassle,” Namjoo muttered. With a sigh, she dug into the food.

“Why are you sighing?” he nitpicked. “If it bothers you I’ll go get another spoon.”

“I said it doesn’t bother me.”

“Then why did you sigh? It’s disturbing for you, isn’t it?” 

Namjoo aggressively stabbed the spoon into the rice and shoved it into his mouth. “Just eat, dammit.” Pulling the spoon back out she muttered, “It’s my turn.”

They ate the rest of their meal exchanging the spoon back and forth, but most of the time Namjoo held onto it. After bringing the tray back inside Sehun returned with an old board game. There wasn’t much to look at in Sehun’s shack, so Namjoo was miserably bored. She didn’t dare leave either in case Sehun’s parents caught her. Maybe she should have planned her trip better, because she had come for Sehun, not to meet his parents. While he went inside Namjoo watched through the window as his father entered the newer tool shed and walked back out with a gardening hoe slung over his shoulder. He trekked off into the family’s personal garden disappearing behind corn stalks. Shortly after Sehun’s round mother followed in rain boots dulled from years of use.

When Sehun returned they played his game and loudly. She lost. She screamed, though happily, but unable to accept defeat. Lunging at Sehun she teasingly shook him, laughing joyfully together. Calming, she inhaled a deep breath. Her knees were splayed around him, hands on his shoulders. Both high with energy. More than that they were close again.

Namjoo kissed him. Aware that she needed to be the one to show him they were on the same page again. That it was ok for him to want to be intimate with her.

“Namjoo…” he pulled back, hesitating.

Cupping his jaw line, she whispered, “Lets just do this.”

She kissed him again, pulling him into her arms, taking him by the mouth hard. His breath shuddered and then she finally felt his hands on her. Namjoo kissed his face, his jaw, and then his neck as his hand cupped the back of her head to urge her on. They finally separated when Sehun fell back onto the bed. First laughing then smiling, gazing into the other’s eyes. Savoring the moment, Namjoo touched his face.

“I moved his pictures,” Namjoo confessed. “I’m trying not to be guilty anymore.”

She managed to pull on a tiny smile before Sehun pulled her into his arms.

¤¤¤¤¤

“Why are you leaving so soon?” his mother asked the next morning, reluctant to let him go. “At least stay for a few more days.”

“Hey,” his father coughed, “let him go. He needs to go to work.”

His mother stared with puppy eyes. The trick didn’t work. Heaving a sigh, she reached for his hands. “You must take care yourself. You must.”

“I know, mom. I’ll be fine,” he assured.

The woman rubbed the back of his hands worryingly then chirped, “I have to pack you some more food. Wait right here.”

“Wait, mom!” Sehun called but she had already wheeled around, running back into the house.

“Your mother misses you,” his father eased. “Be patient with her. Is everything all right in Seoul?”

“Yes, everything’s going well,” Sehun answered then he hesitated, wondering if he should tell his father about his relationship with Namjoo. “Dad, I’m thinking about getting married.”

“What?” the old man's eyes widened. Then the door burst open and his mother returned with a sack of food.

“Bring this with you,” his mother shoved the sack into his hands. “You’re eating well? Is there anything you need?”

“N…no, mom. I’m good.” he stammered.

“Then let us walk you to your car,” his father suggested.

“No, no!” Sehun threw his hands out. Namjoo was in his car waiting for him. He’d be dead if they saw her. He wasn’t really ready to tell them he was in a serious relationship. “You have a lot of work to do. Don’t tire yourselves out.”

Quickly giving them both a hug Sehun stepped back anxiously, “I’ll go now. I’ll call when I get home.”

Awkwardly waving he bolted off.

“Is everything ok?” Namjoo questioned when he opened the door. “You look flushed.”

“No, I’m ok,” he assured. Sliding into his seat he turned the engine on. Hurriedly giving her a kiss on the cheek he grinned, “Lets go home.”

Upon returning to the city, Sehun followed Namjoo’s directions to Haneul’s tiny rooftop apartment. The road was empty when Sehun pulled up. He followed Namjoo up the stairs and distantly heard a dog barking.

“You left Olly here?” 

“I needed a sitter.”

A line of clothes was hanging up to dry. The wind pushed it toward the direction of the sun when they reached the top. The door burst open and the pug came running toward Namjoo ecstatically.

“Hi, boy!” Namjoo screeched. Olly rubbed his head against her hand lovingly, his tail wagging furiously.

“Look at that. He must miss you,” Hanuel commented hands on hips then looked at Sehun. She merely hissed, “Are you still giving Namjoo trouble?”

Picking Olly up, Namjoo didn't forget to say, “Thanks, Haneul. I owe you.”

“You bet you do,” Haneul stated then glanced at Sehun then back to her friend. “Everything all figured out?”

Grabbing his hand Namjoo confirmed, “We’re good.”

Sehun didn’t think he ever felt so content before.

He went to Namjoo’s instead of directly returning home. Plopping onto the floor he played with Olly as she dropped her duffel bag off in her bedroom. Part of him was curious how much she'd changed in her room.

Joining them she leaned against him, “You’re not tired? It was a long drive home.”

“I’m tired,” Sehun replied playing tug of war with Olly.

“Should we order takeout?”

“Lets do that.”

Getting to her feet Namjoo pulled out her phone. After completing the call Sehun left Olly and wrapped an arm around her. “You’re really ok?”

Covering his hand, she laced her fingers through his, “We’re taking it at our own pace, aren’t we?”

“I know we are. I’m asking about you.” Letting her go he shifted her around.

Namjoo quietly fondled his hands affectionately. “Did Mina call you?”

“Mina?” he repeated. “I haven’t heard from her. Why? Did she do something?”

“She must be really angry.”

“Let her. I never led her on. I promise.”

“I know." Namjoo believed. “It’s just…I did know she liked you. She trusted me to help her.”

“You know it wasn’t like that for me,” he reminded. “I only care about you.”

“Mina,” Namjoo stared into his eyes, “told me not to see her parents anymore.”

That was it. What weighed her heart. If she couldn’t have Park Chanyeol, his parents were her closest thing to him. All these years with them. Crying, worrying, caring for, and being with them.

Mina was going to take it away, because Namjoo had feelings for him.

“She can’t do that,” Sehun shook his head. 

Her feelings could stand in the way of everything else in Namjoo’s life. She was Yeol's sister. Unlike him, Namjoo had been someone's daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, wife. She had burdens he didn't.

“Should I talk with her?” Sehun offered.

“No,” Namjoo refused, “I just thought you’d want to know.”

“We’ll figure something out together,” he promised. “How are his parents doing?”

“I haven’t visited them since that weekend,” Namjoo informed.

Of course, he remembered. Mina had interrupted them that evening. The night following had been theirs and then Namjoo had fallen off with him. Now they were here.

“I’ll go with you,” he suggested.

“You want to?”

“Sure.”

The next time he wanted to be able to introduce himself as Namjoo’s man.