eleven of twelve

The first time he’d seen that face, he wanted to punch it.

Yifan remembers the scent of the cafe he’d been at, the mind-numbing jazz music that perpetually oscillated in that quaint shop, and the tasteless black coffee that had been served to him. He’d flown halfway across the globe, in a most desperate attempt to fix his heart but had only made things worse.

The man had blonde hair then, almost platinum. Yifan had only seen that face once and he’d never forgotten it, like a recurrent nightmare.

Fate plays its joke on Yifan again.

This time, the man’s hair is in the lightest shade of brown. He’s thinner, his cheeks are sunken and he looked exhausted but he was attractive, adorable, like a dog. Yifan hates his grin, hates that face for reasons he does not want to list down. He’d told himself that he’d move on, pining after Junmyeon wouldn’t really do him much favors but he’s at it again. He shouldn’t really concern himself over the people in Junmyeon’s life and he should never take her dime-a-dozen I love yous to mean more than anything.

But he’s seeing this man again, and he wants to scream.

Baekhyun. He’d heard Junmyeon call him. Yifan grits his teeth, he couldn’t even deny that her soft tone made jealousy rear it’s ugly head. Yifan really shouldn’t be jealous but he’d rather stab himself than be in the same room as Junmyeon and that man.

He’s not sure if he hates greedy director Kwon Sangwoo, or himself in general.

They’re sitting in the most ostentatious lounge, courtesy of Kim Industries, in a plane bound for Indonesia. Yifan leads a small team of doctors and allied health professionals because Kwon Sangwoo wanted to kiss KMI’s . Yifan did make it clear that helping Junmyeon with her hospices wouldn’t exactly bring results the director is hoping for.

But what the hell. Here they are, with twenty doctors, twenty-five nurses and fifty paramedical staff in the Kim family’s Boeing 747.

And that man, Baekhyun. Yifan’s insides boiled at the sight of him. Funny thing is that, Yifan could not exactly explain where his ire stems from, or at least he tells himself. In all honesty, he is just in denial and he would rather shoot himself in the mouth than admit that jealousy is eating him from the inside.

He made his bed, now he is forced to lay on it.

Song Qian sits beside him on the plane, sighing contentedly as she stretches her legs. “I wasn’t exactly hoping to be treated like royalty but this is a welcomed surprise.”

Yifan shrugs. He still remembers the look of utter surprise on Junmyeon’s face when she saw him enter the plane with Qian in tow. There was obvious tension that Yifan did not try to simmer down when he laid eyes on Baekhyun. The man is almost a head shorter than him, and he had to tip his chin up to meet Yifan’s gaze. He looked at Yifan and the latter swears that he knew something, like he’d been provoking Yifan. It worked, almost, since Yifan was overcome with the urge to sock him on his pretty face.

“Doctor Wu.”

Yifan nodded at Junmyeon and forced himself to cease staring at Baekhyun.

“This is Doctor Song Qian. She’s my junior in Neurosurgery.”

Qian, whose face was lit up in a professional smile, shook Junmyeon’s hand. “I also moonlight in the ER.”

The business tycoon smiled at her. “I believe we’ve met each other before, doctor.”

“Yep. How are you feeling, Mr Byun.”

“Fine.” Baekhyun told her. “Didn’t Junmyeon tell you medical folks that this also going to be an extended field trip…Junmyeon was concerned for my health.”

Baekhyun stared at Yifan as he said the words, and Yifan had been three seconds away from being violent. Instead, he forced himself to calm down, effectively severing any sort of would be physical aggression.

“That’s wonderful.” Qian, bless her oblivious soul, cut in and the rest was history.

“Are you dizzy?” He asks the doctor beside him, upon impulse. Since that trip to the Philippines with Junmyeon, four years ago, it had become a habit of him to ask if his companion is in any sort of discomfort. Qian looks at him weirdly, as if he’d uttered such an atrocious question.

“No.” The female doctor replies, “Are you? I have sick pills.”

“I’m fine.” Yifan sighs, “Just…habit.”

Yifan presses the back of his head against the plush material of the seat. He’s restless.

“I’m just going to exit the suite for a while and check on the team.”

Qian shrugs, “I reckon they’re alright.”

“Yeah.” Yifan nods. KMI’s Boeing 747 comprises of a few private suites, that reminded Yifan of the premium plane tickets Sun Medical Center books for him as an incentive for being a glorified frontman for various medical conferences across the globe.

And like he’s cursed, Yifan almost bumps into Baekhyun if the latter hadn’t called him first. “Oh Doc Wu, just the man I need to see.”

“What do you need?” Yifan asks, tone unnecessarily icy.

“Junmyeon’s suffering major airsickness. It would be amazing if you can check on her.”

Yifan is aptly worried. It’s this scenario that had coaxed him out of the comfort of his privacy in the first place.

“She wanted to drink tea, you go ahead.”

Yifan doesn’t ask more questions. He enters Junmyeon’s suite, fully expecting her to be agitated as per Baekhyun’s statement. He sees nothing of the sort. Junmyeon is sitting upright on the en-suite double bed and clutching her head, clearly in distress but not necessarily looking like she’s in pain.

“Are you alright?” Yifan’s tone has softened before he can stop himself.

Junmyeon looks up, smiling. Her pallor is ghastly. “Yifan, do you need anything?”

“Baekhyun told me you were having and I quote, major airsickness, do you need sick pills?”

She chuckles, “He’s exaggerating. I’m fine, just dizzy is all. I still don’t like plane rides, I don’t think I’ll ever like plane rides.”

Yifan fishes into his pockets and later procures a bunch of pineapple fruit rolls. He sits beside her without preamble and hands her the candies. “I remember you liked these.”

“Thanks…can you --”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Do you need the sick meds?”

“No. I just kind of forgot what we are for awhile. I’m sorry.”

She did not even need to elaborate herself because Yifan just knows. He sits beside her. There’s quite a distance between them that Yifan badly wants to close but he doesn’t move. He takes Junmyeon’s hand into his and tangles their fingers together. She sighs.

Yifan knows she needed this, but in reality, he needs it too. He tells himself that it’s his doctor’s impulse dictating his actions but in reality, he just wants to be in Junmyeon’s presence. He wants to be close to her, wants to touch her as freely as he did when they were together but he contents himself with this. Junmyeon leans towards him and rests her head on his shoulder.

“You confuse me.” She tells him. “I’m under the impression that you don’t want to ever be involved in my life again. I gave you so much heartache.”

“I’m sorry.” Yifan’s says, as his arm goes around her slight frame, pulling her just a little bit closer. He couldn’t resist the urge. He wonders if Byun Baekhyun would flip, seeing him getting this cozy with Junmyeon. “I can’t help it.”

And the conversation simply dies at that. Miraculously, Junmyeon falls asleep. Yifan holds her throughout the otherwise peaceful flight. Byun Baekhyun never returns to the suite.

Yifan rethinks the relationship between Junmyeon and Byun Baekhyun and wonders, what if he got it all wrong all those years ago.

//

The surgical mission in Indonesia is fully funded by Kim Mixed Industries and a few European organizations.  

Junmyeon is really more than her money. She surprises him. Yifan never really thought that she would be capable of going to such daring heights to help people.

“It’s her, right?”

Yifan almost drops his coffee mug at the sudden voice. He turns around and sees Qian standing beside him. “Will you do me a favor and make a sound before appearing like that? You surprised me.”

“I’m sorry. I just realized a few things.”

“What is it?”

“That I can never really compare with someone like Kim Junmyeon.”

Yifan doesn’t answer her. Across the hospital lobby, Junmyeon smiles to the parents whose children had been part of the surgical mission. Yifan was inside the operating room for sixteen hours straight, putting and removing shunts, but he doesn’t feel his exhaustion seeing Junmyeon smile so brightly. Yifan hopes she’s aware that she made this possible.

“She’s gorgeous, rich a genius and she’s so…kind. What a perfect woman.” Qian’s tone is depressing. “And it’s her right? That person you could never forget. That person no one can ever replace.”

Junmyeon would surely object to being called perfect. From the outside, her life seemed glamorous, put together, perfect. But she has her flaws. She’s capable of being hurt and inflicting hurt. She’s as human as everyone else, and it’s what makes her so beautiful.

Yifan wants to deny it but Song Qian is right. He can never really forget her, she’s irreplaceable. And one way or another, Wu Yifan will always be in love with Kim Junmyeon.

His silence confirms Song Qian’s statements. “Chief Wu can I get a hug?”

Yifan looks at the younger surgeon. “Why?”

“A parting gift.” Her smile isn’t fake this time. It reaches her eyes. “Please?”

Yifan holds her. “I’m sorry. I should have never done that to you.”

“It’s alright. It’s my fault.” Qian breaks the embrace, leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Why does it feel like I’ll never see you again?”

Qian laughs. “Remember that offer I got, to teach in Berlin?”

“Yes. I keep telling you to take it.”

“Well I did. I’ve already passed my resignation letter. I’m leaving in two months”

“I’m sure you’ll make a good associate professor.” Yifan tells her. “I’m very happy for you Qian.”

“I had to get my heart broken, first.” Qian chuckles, “it wasn’t a good experience. I truly don’t recommend it.”

Yifan sips his coffee. His gaze is still across the lobby, firmly focused upon Kim Junmyeon. “Maybe one of these years, you’d thank me for breaking your heart.”

“Why?” Qian scoffs, almost playfully but full of implications. “Did you ever get your heart broken?”

“Once.” Yifan admits. “More than broken. Pulverized would be quite accurate. But the good thing is that we’re workaholics, we wallow in our pain by working until we’re nearly dead. Trust me, I wrote the best damn dissertation I thought I was never capable of writing because if I stopped for one second, I was positive I would walk into oncoming traffic and get myself rammed by a ten-wheeler.”

“That’s morbidly descriptive.” Qian replies. “But are you alright now? Did you ever manage to mend yourself?”

“I don’t think I’m capable of moving on from that pain, but I’m trying. We all are.”

“We can only hope for good things.”

Junmyeon suddenly looks up and their gazes meet. Yifan finds himself smiling; an unconscious effort. She smiles back and it eases the unrest in his heart. He looks away and instead directs his sight to the surgeon beside him. “For what its worth, I’m truly sorry. What I did to you is inexcusable. I understood the implications of my actions, I knew I would eventually cause damage but I still went ahead without ever thinking of the repercussions. I’m really sorry Qian, but do know that I hope you’d meet a better person who’d love you because you’re you.”

“That’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me.” Qian laughs. “But don’t worry. We were both at fault. I played with fire and naturally, I got burned. Happens to the best of us, don’t you think so?”

“Yes.” In retrospect, Yifan fully understood what she meant. “I guess it does.”

//

The hospice looks more like a small five-star hotel in a quaint town in Bogor. It’s quiet and the tall trees surrounding the area are constant sentinels which provided a sense of peace and a modicum of privacy.

 The building is partially finished but Yifan could see the thought put into its design. Passersby will look at it and they would never think it houses patients under palliative care. The cobbled pathway to the facility is bracketed by perennial flowers with the surrounding yard maintained to utter perfection. The walkway towards the indoor lounge is topped with opaque glass roofs, allowing natural light to pour through. Min would have loved this place and for that Yifan applauds the architect.

“It doesn’t look like a hospice, right? Nothing like those drab buildings I saw in London; let’s be real.”

Byun Baekhyun stands beside him and oddly enough, Yifan is not overcome with the urge to punch him. Yifan notes his accented English.

“The design is thoughtful.”

“Thanks. Junmyeon told me she wanted both practicality and comfort, so I gave her this. I’ve never designed hospital buildings or medical facilities before, but I slaved for this one.”

“You’re an architect?”

“I used to be.” Baekhyun laughs, “I’m unemployed at the moment. I’m freeloading at Junmyeon’s but I didn’t want to be a burden so I goaded her to let me on some of the projects she has going on. She agreed, though she primarily took me here to…get my mind off certain things.”

“It’s peculiar that you refer to yourself as a burden. Aren’t you two together?”

Baekhyun chokes.

“We’d be together if Junmyeon was more of a guy than a beautiful woman or if we haven’t known each other for more than fifteen years and if she isn’t technically my adopted sister.”

For some reason, Yifan was expecting to hear those words, he’d had his suspicions.

His assumption was terribly wrong and he laments that he could have gotten over his jealousy for a second and clarified what he saw the moment he saw it and not almost four years later. He could have saved himself the heartache.

But then again, things do happen for a reason. The thought gives him hope. Maybe this is their chance to start again.

“Did you honestly think that Junmyeon is my… girlfriend?” Baekhyun enunciated the term as if it’s the first time he is saying it.

“I did.”

“For how long.”

“Long enough.”

“What a pile of horse dung!” Baekhyun cackles, drawing a few stares their way. “I don’t think we are acquainted enough for me to say this but you and Junmyeon are probably the most intelligent people I know yet the both of you are so unbelievably dull at certain things. Junmyeon even showed me photos of you, I blatantly told her that I fancied you. And ironically,god, here you are thinking that Junmyeon and I are together. This is the most hilarious thing that’s happened to me in quite some time. Thank you.”

“I am glad your happiness is upon my expense, you’re welcome.”

“I apologize, what I said was inappropriate. A word of advice though, I highly suggest the both of you talk it out and finally exit this labyrinth you trapped yourselves in.”

“I’d take note.” Yifan tells him.

His heart is at peace and yet his mind is in turmoil.

//

Junmyeon approaches him around mid-afternoon. The tropical sun bears upon his skin a tad more intense than a summer day in Seoul.

“Hi.” She greets him as she gathers her short hair and pulls it away from her face.

“Hi.” Yifan volleys, “I was about to come and talk to you.”

Junmyeon looks at him. “About what?”

“I don’t know. I was not thinking about anything specific. Perhaps, you would like to show me around the facility.”

“Oh, okay.”

They don’t really talk much but the silence is familiar, almost comforting. The back of the hospice is more shaded than the front yard so Yifan does not feel much of his skin burning underneath the relentless sun. He steals glances at Junmyeon and notes how the shadows of the trees danced on her alabaster skin. She really is beautiful and Yifan admits how easy it is to fall for her quiet charm, all over again.

“I wanted to build something that’s less a medical facility but more of a…home.” Junmyeon says. “I don’t want people to be reminded that they’re dying. I want them wake up in the morning and get a breath of fresh air and the sun on their skin.”

“Byun Baekhyun really did a good job at that.”

“He did.”

“So you two finally talked to each other?” giggles Junmyeon, “He’d been wondering if he did you wrong. He tells me you were rather hostile. I did clarify that it’s probably just your face. Chief Wu can be intimidating even without trying.”

“Is that an insult?”

Junmyeon turns to face him, raises an immaculately trimmed brow and says, “Do you think it is? I happen to like your face regardless of what expression happens to be on it.”

Yifan smiles.

For moments, they are quiet. Yifan thinks about earlier, of the way Baekhyun had laughed at his face for his wrong assumptions. He thinks about that day, almost four years ago, if he would have bolted out of that coffee shop, ran across the street and ask if his affections were warranted in any way.

His mind is a mess but one thing appears clearer than the rest of the chaos and it’s the fact that he missed her, and misses her still.

Yifan decides to be brave.

“I miss you.”

“I’m really confused.” Junmyeon turns and faces him, “But, I feel the same. I miss you, I have been for so long.”

Yifan smiles, “Maybe it doesn’t need to have an explanation.”

After all, there are too many reasons for missing another person and Yifan isn’t ready to mull over these reasons for fear that he’d realize just how eager he is to fall back into a rhythm he’d rather avoid.

For now this has to be enough.

“Tell me about London.”

And it begins.

Junmyeon narrates experiences and humorous anecdotes as they move away from the facility and drive to the nearest city. Yifan shares his own stories in between cups of overpriced coffee and an early dinner of exotic food with names he couldn’t pronounce properly.

The last few years didn’t seem so distant and far apart. Junmyeon, whose long scarlet hair and purple lips, does not seem so different from the person across Yifan. It’s more than fascinating to get acquainted with all her nuances and relearn all her subtle tendencies and old habits, like the way she never covers when she laughs, the way her eyes crinkle into half crescents when she smiles, the way she talks, her gestures, her expressions...and everything else.

Yifan refused to see Junmyeon’s new persona because one way or another, he’s still trying to move on from everything that’s happened. He didn’t want to see her, didn’t want anything to do with her because he’s still in pain and seeing her so abruptly return to his life didn’t seem promising until now. Yifan was trying to protect the image of Junmyeon that he used to love. He tried to preserve her in their good memories and never the traumatic ones.

Junmyeon’s return brought to the surface things he doesn’t want to remember, the pain he associated it with. Like a scared animal, he backed away, equal parts terrified and angry.

But he’s learning that Junmyeon from three years ago is not so different and maybe even better. She knows who she is, what she wants, and what she’s capable of.

 And her physical beauty is only highlighted by the kindness of her soul.

Maybe the last few years led them to purpose because they were damaged humans - one way or another - and they needed to find themselves before attempting to devote to one another. They couldn’t afford to give love because they needed it for themselves. Their lives are summarized by a long list of what-ifs and could-have-beens but Yifan does not want to think of those, not when she’s in front of him seemingly so much different and otherwise so, so familiar.

And he’s still in love with her, nothing will ever truly change that. Yifan might have thought he could move on so easily, forget the memories like they haven’t been the reason for his pain and joy, he could have acted brave because he doesn’t want to get hurt anymore but in reality, he needed her.

It’s a poignant realization, one that eventually cleared the cataclysm in his heart and in his mind.

At one point, they finish their dinner and both decide to ditch their driver and opt for a comforting afternoon stroll in an otherwise crowded city. Yifan buys her slippers at a busy market in which Junmyeon casually leaves her designer pumps to the teenaged girl who sold them. They walk to the nearest Botanical Gardens and as they get lost amongst tall trees and exotic plants, Yifan is overcome with the urge to finally ask.

Which he does.

They’re in an orchid garden, Junmyeon is in the process of recollecting her memories of Malawi when Yifan, without preamble, closes a palm around her thin wrist and urges her to face him.

“Why did you leave?”

It’s the question that haunted him for so long. He’d conjured his own answers throughout the years, each becoming harder and painful to accept, like daggers into his heart.

Surprise flits through Junmyeon’s expression as she process his question. She doesn’t talk for so long that Yifan begins to doubt himself. He removes his hold but Junmyeon catches his hand and twines their fingers.

“Before I answer that, I want you to know that I truly loved you.”

She looks at him with the most open expression on her face. Yifan hears the sincerity in her voice and sees it on her beautiful face.

“But why?”

The orchid garden is conveniently deserted and he is grateful for the peace. “Initially, I made such rash decisions because I was clouded with so much anger for my parents. You were caught in that entire chaos and I wanted to spare you the pain. They wanted your hospice and I could never agree to that. I did what I could.” Junmyeon exhales. Yifan observes every fleeting emotion on her inspiring visage.

Scoffing, she continues. “They wanted me to finish what I abandoned in Cambridge in exchange they would pull back the deal and Green Meadows wouldn’t just be another building. I agreed. Those two weeks before I left, I just wanted to feel human, I wanted something tangible and I’m sorry I used you. God, Yifan I regretted everything that I did. I was selfish and I thought I was going to save you, I was so ing stupid. I wasn’t saving you from my parents’ greed, I was saving you from myself.”

Yifan’s memory provides him a mental panorama of the void he spiraled into. He forces himself to calm down and not dwell on the memories. As she recounted her side of the story, it got harder to breathe.

Yifan needs a painkiller.

“Tell me honestly.” He begins, tone flat. “Did you really feel just a speck of affection. Did you really love me or did you love the feeling I gave you?”

Junmyeon turns her back towards him. “Do you know the reason why I never returned until now? To think of it, it would have been so easy for me to book a flight back and be with you but I didn’t.”

“I was your security blanket.” Yifan cuts in. The realization is painful, like a knife hitting every nerve ending under his skin. For a minute, he thinks he is going to choke on his words. “You thought you loved me, even though you didn’t. That’s why you never returned.”

“I loved you.” Junmyeon breathes. “I love you. And this is the reason I left and never came back until now. What I felt for you drove me to reevaluate myself. I needed to come to terms with my demons, I had to face my fears and as useless as this sounds, I needed to find myself Yifan. I was self-destructive, I already harmed you and if we were to continue I would have destroyed you. I’m not asking you take me back, I don’t want us to begin where we ended like nothing ever happened. But I want you to know this, at least. And this time, I’m sure when I tell you that I did love you and I still love you.”

“Why did you never tell me about your roots?”

“I never liked who and what I was, and even now, I am still trying to come to terms that this is my reality. I thought you’d never accept me if you knew I was part of the very family you hated so much. And I couldn’t sacrifice what we had, you gave me purpose, you were peace in the chaos I’ve been battling throughout my life and I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Even if I knew, it didn’t take away parts of you that made me truly love you.” Yifan sighs, “I was in love with you because you’re you. Because you are kind.”

“And I realized that far too late.” Junmyeon smiles, that little sad smile. “I also realized that after everything that’s happened, it was myself I was afraid of, not my parents. I was afraid of what I could do to you, to us. I never saw all your sides and I was only in love with what you allowed me to see. We were never together long enough for me to be with you in times that you can be less perfect than the man I fell in love with. It wasn’t the right mindset. I’m not perfect and you aren’t, and we will never be. But I needed something to go right in my life for once.”

“I’m sorry, Yifan.” Junmyeon faces him again. “I’m ready to take the consequences of my actions. We were together for such a short while and it won’t surprise me if you’ve moved on. But please, don’t ask that of me because I can’t.”

When Yifan looks at her, he wants to press their bodies together, kiss her and savor every moment but he holds himself back. He’s enjoying this look of resignation on Junmyeon’s face despite how cruel it sounds.

Yifan glides his thumb over the back of her palm and doesn’t say anything else. They continue to traverse the orchid garden, fingers entwined. He wishes to never let go.

It’s late in the afternoon when they exit the botanical garden. They’ve been stewing in their own thoughts and no words are exchanged throughout the otherwise quiet ride back to the hotel.

“By the way. I’ve been invited to a wedding tonight. Some politician’s daughter is apparently a supporter of what I do. She wanted me as a guest of honor of some sort. I already extended the invitation to Doctor Song.”

“I’ll think of it.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later?”

“Maybe.”

//

The wedding is by the beach, held at dusk and most notably simple for a political avenue. Yifan likes the overall ambiance of the place, romantic and heartfelt. Apparently, it was the bride’s wish to have Junmyeon on the guest list. She supports Junmyeon’s humanitarian projects across Asia and thinks highly of her.

Yifan is truly happy about that. It seemed that Junmyeon has found her passion outside the wealth she’d been born into.

The reception is held at a wide pavilion erected solely for the occasion. Yifan notes the beauty of the setting sun as it meets the sea and leaves a blazing trail of orange and rose in its wake. He gets more than tipsy, the very reason as to why he is not a huge fan of such lavish celebrations - the alcohol is startlingly stronger.

He tells himself that he’s drunk, thought swirling into a cacophony in his head as he slowly excuses himself from the bustle of the festivities and guides himself to the seaside.

He watches the endless push and pull of saltwater as waves crash upon the shore, the breeze hitting his face sobers him, makes him think of everything and nothing at the same time.

But mostly, it’s all about Junmyeon, of the way she looked this afternoon. Always beautiful. The desire creeps on him unexpectedly, and it all feels like he’s sinning.

Sinning for wanting to strip that innocent white dress off her slight frame, sinning for wanting to trail his lips down the slender column of her pale neck, sinning for wanting to see her across his sheets once more.

God.

This isn’t the right time. He tells himself. And like a mirage he sees her approach, still clad in that flowing white dress. Yifan might be going out of his mind.

With slight lunacy and inebriation, he thinks God why is she so beautiful?

This is years worth of longing, of missing someone so deeply he felt it into his very bones and it ached. The type of that’s borderline physically painful and Yifan’s not even sure what to do, how to cope. This afternoon’s confessions and realizations caused a dam to break, and out poured all of Yifan’s emotions. His physical relationship with Qian didn’t even do anything to settle the unrest that built and built and he is sure that one day he will crack from the weight of it.

Alcohol isn’t his best friend.

“I’ve always wanted to dance tipsy on the beach.” Junmyeon says when they’re finally inches away from each other. She giggles, brandishes a half empty bottle of wine seemingly out of nowhere and sips from its contents. They quietly watch each other for a moment. Yifan does not stop himself from trailing his eyes all over her fine, albeit clearly tipsy, face. He finds himself smiling, reaching over the short distance so that he can run his fingers through her obsidian hair.

“So short.” He says.

Junmyeon nods. “I had to cut it. The entire experience was honestly a little therapeutic….so how about that dance?”

Yifan indulges her request. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and searches for an appropriate song in his truly inebriated state.

Some day, when I'm awfully low,

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you...

And the way you look tonight.

Junmyeon laughs, head thrown back. “What’s with you and Sinatra?”

Yifan grabs the bottle from her and finishes its contents. Without preamble he tosses the glass unto the sand.

“Can I?”

Junmyeon, visibly drunk, smiles face flushed and forwards into his arms.

Lovely ... Never, ever change.

Keep that breathless charm.

Won't you please arrange it ?

'Cause I love you ... Just the way you look tonight.

Yifan twirls her, and that goddamn dress swirls with her, mesmerizing as the expression painted on her face.

I can’t do this.

Sinatra’s voice echoes into the last bits of the short song and Junmyeon is still laughing, amused. He wraps his arms around her and the action quietens Junmyeon’s amusement.

“Yifan?”

“Can I?”

Junmyeon inhales, wraps her arms around his torso and they stay in that position for what felt like an eternity.

“Can we…?” Yifan begins.

Can we start over?

He does not have the courage to say it. In the long run, it occurs to him that maybe he is a coward after all. And he is still afraid to jump into an abysmal conclusion he isn’t ready to face one more.  

Junmyeon’s drunk and so is Yifan and they are both so fragile and far too susceptible to each others’ emotions.

They’ve been through so much as a couple and as separate human beings and yet time constantly allows them to find a way back. Stories have been recounted and it’s almost peculiar how they’ve crossed each others’ path so many times. Junmyeon admitted that she’s followed his medical symposiums throughout China, to Switzerland and Berlin. Yifan did not tell her but he’s been to London enough to develop a fondness for its bleak weather. He’d done everything in exchange for the sliver chance of seeing Junmyeon again.

They’ve missed and longed for each other but Junmyeon needed to prioritize herself and battle her demons; Yifan needed to be braver in the face of his only fear: being left behind. He’d dealt with it through unnecessarily toxic means, hurting himself and another person in the process and he wasn’t proud of it. He’s afraid because when she left, he’d become a person he sometimes loathed. He’s afraid that he might carry the vestiges of that person into this chapter with Junmyeon back in his life.

So he refuses to ask that of her. He refuses to ask if they could start over because he’s frightened. He’s afraid of himself, of what he could do and of Junmyeon’s hold over him. It’s illogical and irrational but Yifan is only human and this is his most vulnerable state.

The surgeon inhales, suddenly sober, and prepares to cancel his statement when Junmyeon simply tightens her hold around his torso and says, “Yes, please. Whatever it is, yes.”

Yifan is convinced that they’re ultimately the perfect match. He didn’t need to elaborate himself because she understands, she just does, even then.

“You’re drunk.” he replies, refusing to detach his embrace. “You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to.”

Junmyeon giggles. “Does it even matter? I’m dizzy, drank too much and I just want to be with you.”

Yifan is lying if he is to say that her words mean nothing to him.

“We’re going too fast.” He whispers to the crown of her head, inhaling. “Too fast and maybe we’re not the same people. Maybe I’m not the same person you’ve fallen in love with.”

“I love you,” Junmyeon presses her face to his chest and whispers, “then and now. And I just… I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Junmyeon looks at him, “No. I won’t be. But I’m not in the position to dictate where your happiness should lie, or who you should be happy with.”

Yifan is really dizzy, his head spins and, his fingers are a little shaky. He smiles at the woman in front of him, realizing that she’ll always be irreplaceable. Regardless of everything that’s been said and done, it’s still Junmyeon and it will always be Junmyeon.

“It’s with you.” Yifan says. “god, Junmyeon. It’s always with you and I don’t think it’ll change.”

Junmyeon looks at him with such an open expression on her otherwise less than sober visage. She smiles at him, and Yifan realizes that it’s over. He’s succumbed to his emotions.

“All this honest talk about happiness is compounding my dizziness.”

Junmyeon giggles, presses her face back into his chest. “Dizzy with happiness?”

“Dizzy with alcohol.”

She scoffs, “You didn’t even try the stronger stuff, lightweight.”

Yifan hugs her tighter. “Alcohol is not my best friend. And it’s not good for my liver nor yours.”

“Can I really argue with that?”

“You can’t.”

“Let’s go to sleep, Myeon. I’m nauseated, my limbs ache and I’m very, very exhausted.”

//

He ends up sleeping on the floor.

Yifan had been in his decadent room, right across Junmyeon’s and he’d gulped down a pitcher of water to sober himself. When he laid on the obscenely plush hotel bed, it occurred to him that he was going to spend the night staring at the ceiling, with his head turning, over-thinking everything that’s happened most recently. But he’s tired.

He decided to exit his room, walked a few steps across the dimly lighted hallway. Junmyeon opens her door clad in a white bathrobe. She’d removed her makeup, her hair was messy, and she was singly the most beautiful person Yifan has seen in his laughably short life.

“Hi.” Yifan said, grinning. Junmyeon smiled, beckoned for him to step inside and shut the door closed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m having tea.” Junmyeon told him, “I’m considerably less sloshed. Want some?”

“Sure.”

Yifan notes the big glass windows opening into a view of the moonlit sea. The whole room is dimmed, soft lights dousing everything in a calming ochre. He looks at Junmyeon and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m aware I don’t have makeup on.” She tells him, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Yifan tucks an errant lock of hair to the back of her ear, “It’s because I missed you, and I wanted to see you.”

“Then stay.” Junmyeon leans forward, wraps her arms around his frame, “stay forever if you want.”

“It’s an inviting offer.”

“You can’t refuse.”

“I don’t plan to.”

She laughs, “Just drink your tea, Fan.”

Yifan sleeps on the floor because he thinks he’s not ready to share a bed with Junmyeon just yet. He doesn’t let go of her hand and they talk throughout the early morning hours.

I love her.

Junmyeon’s quiet laughter is all he could hear. The waves crashing upon the shore seemed to be lulled by her voice.

I love her.

I love her.

Yifan falls into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

//

“We missed our flight.”

Yifan awakens to Junmyeon’s face hovering above his.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours.” Deadpans Junmyeon. “You came here last night and didn’t let me sleep.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

The statement sounded like a double entendre, Yifan had to smirk. He rises from his reclined position, groaning as his back cracks in select places.

“I shouldn’t have been stupid.” He laughs, “I’m manning the OR tomorrow, getting my skills judged by older folks who abhor my guts because I - a child - head neurosurgery. I don’t think a backache will help me further any causes.”

Junmyeon sits on the floor, in front of him, smiling in a certain way that calmed every unrest in Yifan’s being.

“I trust you.” She tells him, reaching both hands and placing them over Yifan’s shoulder. “You’ll do great.”

Her words hold such power over him, almost hallucinatory in their effects. Yifan leans forward, buries his face into the column of her neck and pulls her closer.

“Stay.” He breathes the word into her skin as reverent as a prayer to whatever higher being is out there. “Please.” don’t leave me, not again.

He presses his lips to her neck, just to savor her presence.

“I promise.” Junmyeon casually sinks into the embrace and their bodies mold together until no one knew where Yifan ended and Junmyeon began. “I love you.”

Yifan believes her.

//

He sees her in person almost three weeks later.

Junmyeon’s light washed jeans is streaked with mud and there’s grass stuck in her hair. Yifan looks on amused. There’s a young, displaying some of his football skills in front of a fascinated Junmyeon.

The boy kicks the ball towards the goal post behind Junmyeon and in the process Junmyeon almost gets struck by it if she didn’t duck fast enough. Yifan watched, expecting anger, instead Junmyeon merely cheers as the ball goes into its desired destination. Her maroon shirt gets dirtied, and she doesn’t seem to care.

Yifan decides to approach, enthused at what he saw.

“I believe I reminded you to watch where you kick the ball.” Yifan says. The boy perks up and practically jumps towards Yifan when their eyes met.

“Hyung!”

The boy’s name is Shan; orphaned in Green Meadows when his grandfather, the only family he’s ever known, died a few months ago. He is five years old, an overly energetic boy that brings both joy and various aches to the hospices’ residents and medical staff.

Shan is Yifan’s charge. The boy tails Yifan around whenever he visits the hospice and regales him with stories, most of which on the expense of the older hospice staff that are far too tired of dealing with the child’s never depleted battery. But Yifan adores the child.

He hefts the boy into his arms, groaning exaggeratedly. “So heavy!”

Shan giggles, squirming in excitement. “Hyung, hyung pretty noona played with me today. She runs fast but she can’t goal.”

Yifan looks at Junmyeon, “So do you mean to say pretty noona is a loser at football?”

Shan looks at him sheepishly. “I’m not saying that. But - but pretty noona gave me cake! It was delicious and we ate chicken!”

Yifan nods, “Yes, but I also take you out for chicken. Do you like pretty noona more than me, now?”

“Yes!” Shan laughs at Yifan’s pretend horrified expression. “Pretty noona also gave me ice cream, you never give me ice cream.”

“Point taken.”

Junmyeon finally rises from the ground. Yifan reaches for the grass in her hair, tucking her locks behind her ear in the process. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Junmyeon beams. Yifan puts Shan down so he could lean over and give Junmyeon a chaste kiss. Shan squeals. “I never thought this hyung he couldn’t stop talking about would turn out to be you.”

Yifan looks at Shan. “Does he still say I’m the bestest or does he slander me?”

Junmyeon playfully shrugs, “Who knows?”

Yifan clicks his tongue. “But it’s almost dinner, Shan. Run along, you know how Yixing gets when he sees you all muddy.”

Shan yelps. “You’re right. Bye bye Jun noona, bye hyung! I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you ice cream.”

“Yay!”

“I’m tired.” Junmyeon finally says after the child disappeared into the hospice. “Children have so much pent-up energy.”

Yifan gathers her into an embrace. Junmyeon sighs, “But somehow, I still want to have my own children. Though the idea seems far fetched.”

They detach from the embrace. Yifan stares. “Will you never want a family?”

“It’s a lot.” Junmyeon smiles a little unsure, “knowing how I’ve been brought up and my current circumstances, it just seems so wrong to subject a child into a mess I’m still trying to figure out.”

“If you put it that way, family does seem frightening.”

Junmyeon hums, “How about you Fan? Does it ever cross your mind, a family, children…a spouse?”

“Sometimes.” Yifan smiles. “I’ve been alone for so long that it makes me want to come home to something I hope would last. A semblance of normalcy…an anchor. I’m tired of people that I know aren’t going to be permanent fixtures in my life. It pains me, makes me feel empty, somehow.”

It occurs to Yifan that he hasn’t entertained thoughts about permanently setting down before Junmyeon came into the picture once more. It’s fanciful to think that he’s been waiting for what he considers his other half all these years, and it’s because it’s never been like that. Yifan never established thoughts that would further his relationship with Junmyeon, even then. He’s contented to have her in his life and chalked it up to fate if they were to progress.

And then things happened and Yifan never wanted to simply settle down. In retrospect maybe he’d been waiting. He’s not the biggest family person, nor an avid fan of marriage but if it’s with Junmyen these ideas don’t seem so faraway. Maybe because he does love her, and she loves him.

A family. It didn’t seem such a horrible idea.

“With the right person,” Junmyeon begins, “maybe things should manage to work out.

“Does it make you think you could conquer the woes of parenthood?”

“Do you really have to put it like that?” Junmyeon laughs. “I settle that it might be great, somehow. I don’t fear it as much as I did before. Family and children seemed downright egregious. Now it’s an idea…home.”

The conversation reminds Yifan of that night in the university quadrangle. They were simpler back then, Junmyeon had her messy bleached hair and turquoise pajamas and Yifan’s only problems were merely from the demands of medical education. They talked about what it’s like to be in love with a person and not just the idea of love and they were such secretive human beings but that night, Yifan truly saw Junmyeon for the first time. He didn’t realize it, but Junmyeon had opened up to him a long, long time ago.

She had this vulnerable look in her face when she told him she had no idea what it’s like to be in love with someone and somehow, he finds himself almost asphyxiated with his own emotions.  

“I’m happy.” Yifan couldn’t stop himself, “thank you, Myeon.”

Junmyeon gives him another glance before going for another tighter embrace. “I think we’ve picked up where we left off but I’m not opposed.”

“I’m not entirely opposed either.”

//

Yifan stares at his reflection and straightens his black bow tie. He cleans up good. Jongdae once told him he looked like one of those Asian drama superstars everyone including their grandmothers, become obsessed with. He doesn’t really pay much attention to how he looks like, it’s just how he is.

And of course formal, ostentatious, black tie events don’t sit well with Yifan. He works thirty-six hour shifts and is decked in scrubs most of the time so he never has the luxury for fancy tuxes and expensive clothing.

“Not bad.” Yifan says, more to himself than anyone really, before brushing nonexistent lint off his Ferragamo suit. He’s trying to steel himself, after all, tonight’s gala is the official launch of the recently signed deal between the Kims and Sun Medical Center. It was a 3.4 billion dollar deal that spelled fifteen private hospitals operating at the highest degree of quality, spanning various countries across three continents.

It was money, money, money and Junmyeon was so good at it. Yifan had been there when they officiated the papers. She was one of four women in a board room teeming with temperamental businessmen. Her gaze was ice cold, expression never bellying whatever convoluted thoughts in her head.

If Yifan didn’t admire her so much, she would have intimidated him to his very core. She radiated control and everyone bent to her whims. Simply put, she knew what she was doing. For someone like Kim Junmyeon, running a multi billion dollar empire is a languid stroll in the park on a summer day.

Yifan is proud of her.

//

The Embassy is the crown jewel of Kim Mixed Industries’ hospitality sector. The hotel is an architectural masterpiece ascending sixty-five floors off the face of the earth. Considered one of the best in the eastern hemisphere, it houses valuable guests all year round.

It’s nine in the evening. Yifan tries not squirm as camera flashes temporarily blind him. He’s surrounded by important looking people, politicians and celebrities alike smiling before the press as they enter the hotel.

The launch is a grandiose celebration, completely obscene in its lavish wasting of money. It’s constricting. Yifan tries not to drown in it but his tie seemed to wrap tighter around his neck and he couldn’t breathe.

A waiter walks across the marble floor, flutes of champagne twinkling as the chandelier lights strike upon glass surface. Yifan doesn’t want champagne, he wants whisky, the kind that creates a burning path down his esophagus and knocks him unconscious until the morning after.

He doesn’t want to talk to a living soul but everyone seemed to converge upon him and he is subjected into mindless conversations and sultry glances.

He wants to throw up.

“Hey.”

It’s Song Qian. Yifan knows because Song Qian senses his distress from miles away.

“Are you alright?”

“No.” Yifan answers through gritted teeth. He chugs the remains of his champagne. “I feel ing suffocated.”

Qian is in a red dress, it made her look like one of those celebrities he’d seen earlier. Pretty.

“I noticed.” She removes the flute from his rigid fingers and replaces it with a crystal glass full of water. “Calm down, you look like a ghost.”

Qian leads him across the wide ballroom and into a thankfully empty veranda with a magnificent view of twinkling city lights. Yifan inhales and feels infinitely better.

“Thanks, Song.” He grabs the cold, ornate railing and leans over. “My head’s about to split open.”

Qian places a comforting palm on his shoulder. “You never liked parties.”

Yifan looks up to answer, expecting to see Qian but instead it’s Junmyeon dressed in a sheer ebony dress that seemed to hide and expose everything at the same time, meets his gaze.

“Fan?”

Yifan gulps, try as to not ogle Junmyeon’s frame. He fails.

“Are you alright?” She asks, “I was looking for you?”

 “Congratulations on the launch, President Kim. The gala was a delight, I enjoyed myself.”

“Thank you, doctor Song.”

Qian meets Yifan’s gaze and grins, “If you’ll excuse me. Have a lovely evening.”

Yifan watches the female surgeon exit the premises and promptly returns his gaze to Junmyeon, riveted by her allure and the hypnotic paleness of her slender neck. Yifan feels compelled to mark her.

“Are you okay?” Junmyeon asks, obviously concerned by his current well being. “You look pale.”

Yifan doesn’t answer, instead he wraps his fingers around Junmyeon’s wrist, pulling her closer to the shadows and away from everyone’s gazes. He presses his palm against her bare back, runs his fingers from her neck down to the base of her spine, he almost shudders.

“Myeon.”

The word comes out in a hoarse whisper, like he’s out of breath.

Junmyeon cups his face and stares into his eyes, blissfully unaware of the want simmering under his skin like liquid fire.

She’s so, so beautiful. God, is this a test?

“Hey, are you alright?” Junmyeon reiterates.

Yifan shakes his head, “Can I kiss you?”

Junmyeon looks surprised and then she leans and presses her dry lips to the seam of Yifan’s mouth. Yifan exhales, gathering his sanity, fingers pressing harder onto Junmyeon’s pristine skin. He couldn’t help himself, he leans in and kisses her, deeply, with his entire soul.

 It’s been so long but Junmyeon reacts exactly the same.

He runs his fingers through whatever surface he finds, her smooth back, down the slope of her , caresses her thighs and kisses her neck.

Wu Yifan cannot get enough of Kim Junmyeon. He’d slept with so many people before and after he met her, but no one gave him the same feeling. The kind of satisfaction that he felt to his bones is only reserved for Junmyeon and the wonders of her body.

He pulls her closer to him, skin pressed against skin. He breathes her in, commits every dip and curve to memory.

“I love you.” Junmyeon murmurs in the dark, brushing against Yifan’s collar bone. “So much.”

Yifan doesn’t say the words yet but the way he kisses her neck says the same.

The night is quiet. 

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