five of twelve

Yifan opens his eyes to the blurry image of his room’s ceiling. He is disoriented for a few short seconds before habit kicks in. He reaches an arm over to the side table for his glasses and that is when he notices the warm body right next to him.

Junmyeon’s red hair is in tangles, comes the wayward thought and as if on instinct, Yifan’s fingers are immediately on her hair, raking it into some semblance of order. The ministration wakes Junmyeon and she presses her face right against Yifan’s chest. The man thinks his brain had short circuited the night prior, because this feels all too normal – like Junmyeon on his bed is a sight he sees every morning.

“I can’t see you.” Yifan murmurs allowing her to slot their bodies together. He throws an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. “I have ty vision.”

Whatever Junmyeon replies to that, is smothered by his shirt. Her hair smells like his shampoo and its color reminds Yifan of the skimpy, red dress Junmyeon had worn the first time they met.

They bask in late morning silence; Yifan’s fingers are drawing figures on Junmyeon’s back. They’re so close, too close and Yifan is more worried that he finds this perfectly fine. In retrospect, it is normal to be attracted to someone, but not in Yifan’s case. He does not even remember the last time he harbored the vaguest attraction for another human being.

But then there was last night. Junmyeon had her hair all gathered in a loose bun above her head, effectively displaying the slender column that is her pale neck. Yifan had been unable to stop himself from pressing his lips against her skin and it almost killed him to stop.

He should apologize to Junmyeon for that but he is not entirely sure how to word his apologies into something that would not sound clearly offensive. Junmyeon might press harassment charges on him.

Another thing about this morning, is the way Yifan refrains from asking the questions that need to be pertinently asked. Somehow, he does not want this morning to end, and he would be grateful to spend the rest of the day tangled with Junmyeon in his hold.

She had traipsed into his apartment last night, dripping wet and barefoot. She looked distraught, so Yifan held on to his curiosity and effectively managed to stop himself from spilling.

He still wants to know why she looked so different last night - in her tight dress, smudged mascara and diamond necklace. It’s like the Junmyeon he knows, had been temporarily hidden behind the sparkling impostor.

“Warm.”

“Hmm?”

Junmyeon sighs. “You’re so warm… is this okay?”

“Whatever you want, Junmyeon.” Yifan chuckles, “whatever you want.”

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“It’s alright. You looked exceptionally pretty last night, by the way.”

“Don’t get used to it. I don’t like dressing up as a shiny, plastic princess all the time.”

Yifan gathers her into a tighter embrace and inhales the minty scent wafting from her gorgeous, scarlet hair. “I find you more beautiful in your ripped jeans and messy blonde hair. You just looked pretty is all. Was wondering where you came from, dressed like that.”

“I came from hell, to simplify.” Junmyeon’s tone is sarcastic more than anything. “I like this color better than blonde though, don’t you think so?”

“You can wear it in something crazy like, I don’t know, bright blue and I’d still love it. You’re beautiful, have I told you that?”

“You surprise me by being incredibly poetic at dawn and at the same time, smooth as hell when your morning blindness hinders you from seeing anything. Are you falling for me, Yifan? If that’s it, you’re in for a whole ing disaster.” Junmyeon laughs, like this situation is entirely a joke. Yifan is convinced it is not. His heartrate picks up as mulls over his own careless confession coupled with this undeniable attraction and then it hits him.

“What if I am?”

The statement effectively quietens them both. Time seemed to have frozen, constricting the two in borderline uncomfortable silence. Yifan wishes that he hadn’t broken the previous morning calm but at the same time, he does not regret voicing out the huge possibility that he could fall in love with her. After all, he would not have allowed her in his bed, would not have held her, and kissed her if he did not have the slightest feelings for her.

It’s so easy. Falling in love with Junmyeon is so easy, Yifan is willing to risk the heartache.

Junmyeon breaks the silence when she moves away from him. Yifan feels acutely bereft of the heat they shared. He fights the urge to pull her back.

“Please don’t.” Junmyeon says, “I don’t want to be your mistake.”

Those words are frankly insulting. But Yifan does not express his thoughts because he is also aware of just how scary all these feelings could be.

After all, it’s not always pretty.

He understands that Junmyeon might not be willing to risk the heartache, but that’s okay. Yifan will show her then, simple as the way she tells him to live a little.

“Well then,” Yifan snatches his glasses from the night stand and slides the frame up his nose bridge. “How about breakfast? Let’s hope we don’t get another show from Jongdae and Minseok today though.”

~*~

They’re in the kitchen with plates of half-eaten kimchi rice and the recycled beef stir fry from last night.

Junmyeon is seated across him before the breakfast counter, idly stirring her black coffee as she scribbles on Jongdae’s errant engineering worktext which had been lying on the table. She probably had completed the man’s assignment, said assignment he'd procrastinated the whole weekend.

 There is a frown marring her face and Yifan wonders if his statement had affected her all over mood but she seemed to radiate a kind of distress that could not really be caused by a simple, offhanded comment.

“Care to share what’s making you frown so deeply?”

Yifan pours himself a second cup of coffee with two heaps of sugar – he liked it sweet.

Junmyeon drops the pencil she’d been holding and sighs, “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

Junmyeon stares at him. “Hypothetically, will you forgive a person for lying even if that person had good intentions and they only lied because they wanted what’s good for you?”

Yifan shakes his head. “I can forgive but if that person really wanted what’s good for me, they wouldn’t lie.”

“Oh.”

“Why the question?”

Junmyeon smiles at him, saccharine. “It’s nothing.”

They finish breakfast in relative peace but Yifan could not quite dispel the uncomfortable bubble. They spend breakfast in stagnant silence until Junmyeon's spare clothes, arrived.

Later, Yifan notices her necklace on his nightstand and texts her about it.

“I’ll come get it some other time. Also, thanks, I really owe you for last night.”

Yifan does not reply. Junmyeon’s necklace is still glittering even in dim lighting and Yifan does not quite understand why Junmyeon didn’t seem to care much about such expensive looking rocks.

~*~

For some reason, Junmyeon successfully evades Yifan for two weeks since the incident. She still visits the hospice, Yixing constantly updates him about the color of Junmyeon’s dress and how she smiled at senile, Mr. Park when she’d come across him in the hallway.

Junmyeon avoids Thursdays and Wednesdays – days when Yifan is in the hospice himself – and the avoidance upsets Yifan to some vague extent. He misses her, if he is being honest with himself. They have been great friends in the last few months and he thinks he should just get over it and talk to her.

He finally finds an excuse for the much needed talk after he saw a broadsheet announcement smack dab behind the reception desk in the allied health building.

It called for volunteers of all types to some obscure island…in the Philippines?

Yifan squints at the announcement, notes the pineapple field on its background, and makes his decision. He remembers Junmyeon’s affinity for pineapples as he peruses a quick search.

Apparently, Bukidnon in the southernmost part of the south-east Asian country, is a place full of goddamned pineapples.

Junmyeon is not going to say no.

~*~

Yifan manages to see Junmyeon again, two weeks later, after successfully coercing her to come with him to volunteer. He had regaled her with endless tales that mostly centered on vast pineapple plantations and Junmyeon did not have the heart to say no (especially after Yifan had proudly brandished facts lifted from respectable tourism websites).

There are probably under a hundred volunteers – most of SNU’s faculty, general physicians, staff, medical students, along with non-allied health volunteers – cramped in the earliest flight which is to land in Davao, in the Philippines, around nine in the morning. It’s currently two A.M or as what Junmyeon aptly called, ‘the ing crack of dawn’

The woman has been massaging her temples since entering the plane, muttering something about her hate of flying contraptions and her brewing headache.

“Are you okay?”

Junmyeon shakes her head. “I’m slightly claustrophobic. This is quite torture, honestly. I hope you’re not lying about the pineapples. I’m really going to hate you if you lied.”

“What’s with you and pineapples?” Yifan chuckles as he pours pineapple flavored candies on her open palms.

“Full offense taken.” Junmyeon pops a candy into and glares at him, “Pineapples are the best things to have ever happened in this godforsaken planet.”

“Alright, alright. Pineapples it is then.”

The flight is turbulent. Yifan does not really care but Junmyeon seemed to be more and more distressed – eyes screwed shut and fingers curled tightly under her seat – and it is making Yifan worry. He raises the dividing armrest between them and loosens Junmyeon’s seatbelt.

“Junmyeon, come here.” He tells her, snaking his arm behind her and drawing small circles on top of her shoulder. “Lean against me, and try to get some sleep.”

Junmyeon jerkily follows his advice. She presses her face against his neck and inhales. Yifan pulls her closer by throwing a loose arm around her waist. He regrets subjecting Junmyeon to this situation to appease his selfish whims to be near her. If he had known that Junmyeon is averse to the general idea of plane rides, he wouldn’t have bribed her to come with him for some goddamned pineapples.

He continues his ministrations and even pulls out the elastic that held Junmyeon’s hair together. He allows the waves of her bright red hair to fall unto his palms and surprisingly, Junmyeon manages to rest. For the rest of the flight, she dozes off against Yifan’s chest as Yifan cards his fingers through her silky hair.

Of note, is the fact that Yifan managed to control his wavering emotions.

It’s so easy to fall in love with her, because she makes it easy.

~*~

The team finally lands in Davao International Airport after roughly nine hours of shaky, panic inducing flight.

Junmyeon lagged behind Yifan, complaining about her dizziness and the desire to empty the contents of her stomach.

Yifan comforts her with soothing backrubs, green tea and a pack of dried pineapples he bought in the airport. Junmyeon gets the treat, sighing happily.

“You know, our pineapples mostly come from this country.” Junmyeon tells him. “I can’t elaborate just how excited I am to see tons and tons of pineapples. Do you think I can airlift a few pounds for myself to take back home?”

Yifan laughs. “I don’t think that’s possible, Myeon.” She pouts at him, “Maybe we can stash our suitcases with these things though. I like it.”

“I told you, pineapples are nice.”

“I know, I know. This fascination of yours, is amusing, quite frankly.”

Junmyeon laughs.

Her airsickness finally subsides just in time when Yifan’s supervisor informs them that the buses have arrived. It’s another five-hour drive before they reach Bukidnon from Davao.

They’ll be staying for a week in the province, perusing the hospitality of strangers in the locale they’ll be temporarily serving.

“Wow, are we going towards the edge of the world. Five hours, damn.”

“Will you be okay?”

“So long as it's not another plane ride, I’m good.”

The trip is surprisingly comfortable. Yifan learns that provinces aren’t connected by railways and the easiest and safest way to get from point a to point b, is by land. Thankfully, the southernmost part of the country is huge and mostly landlocked.

A national highway snakes across the province, to accommodate travelers. It’s a long road, flanked by valleys of tall trees. Yifan is surprised by the lack of traffic and the amount of greenery he sees. So much green. Forests seem lush, vibrant and alive – unlike in other parts of the world where it seemed to be an obsolete concept.  

Yifan liked the green and Junmyeon…well Junmyeon is busy marveling through acres and acres of alternating sugarcane, banana and pineapple plantations that stretched as far as the eye can see.

“Yifan!” Junmyeon grabs his shoulder and points out the window, gesturing fervently. She makes excited noises that effectively pull grumbles from the rest of the travel-wearied volunteers. Junmyeon does not care, and Yifan is highly amused.

 “Pineapples, , there’s so much pineapples. Holy , is this real?!”

“I think so.” Yifan eyes the vast fields, “I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to enter these plantations though. They’re owned by large industrial corporations. Capitalism at its finest.”

“Corporations should be banned in this planet entirely. They’re like leeches the blood out of small business. It’s why a lot of countries remain poor since these ing capitalists monopolize their economies.”

“Like the Kim Industries.” Yifan scoffs. He remembers the somber expressions of the hospice directors as they explained the current situation with the conglomerate. Everything worked in the Kims’ favor and nothing is to be gained from the sellout at all – money isn’t even the center of the discussion, it’s about the Kim’s refusal to back off. They’re like leeches, truly.

At the sudden segue, Junmyeon yet again, uncharacteristically turns mute. She stares at Yifan with this horrified look in her eyes before it completely neutralizes as her expression shutters. It was merely a glimpse and yet Yifan had caught sight of it.

“Tell me,” he prompts her, “what do you think of the Kims?”

Junmyeon’s chuckle grates at Yifan’s ears. She sounds spiteful when she spits, “They’re monsters. Frankly, I’m beginning to hate them.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons, too many to elaborate.”

Junmyeon looks out the window, her excited grins do not return for the rest of the ride. Yifan’s mind is busy conjuring the reasons Junmyeon refused to divulge.

Yifan doesn’t really hate the Kims – the corporation employs and feeds so many people across Asia, he can’t completely abhor them – but their greed is becoming far too much to handle. This greed really puts a damper on his general existence.

Maybe Junmyeon feels the same.

~*~

The village comprises of quaint houses bordering a magnificent landscape. The locals are such warm, friendly creatures, with their simple welcome banners; hot, organic coffee, and piles of weird rice delicacies and boiled bananas Junmyeon have been munching on since a few minutes ago. She looks like an overeager bunny and Yifan is hopelessly endeared. He traces a long finger across her face and pokes at the softness of her cheek. “You’re so unbelievably cute.”

Junmyeon smiles at him and he’s just hopeless in general.

He only quits staring at Junmyeon when the village chief, who speaks chopped English, approaches them. Yifan does not trust himself at first but thankfully, his english comes out normally , his tongue carving upon the syllables with relative ease. Junmyeon seemed surprised when he tells her he speaks four languages, fluently.

“I’m not even gonna ask how huge of a polyglot you are.” Yifan jokes, switching to his ethnic Mandarin. 

“I speak fourteen, fluently.” Junmyeon answers in the same language, without the slightest hint of accent. “Cantonese included.”

“You’re scary.” Yifan answers.

She chuckles, “My brain’s abnormal. I learned Dutch because I wanted to read ‘The Little Prince’ in Dutch. I’ve never even had the opportunity to use it. I’ve been to Belgium once, though. I spoke English.”

“I think that’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“You flatter me too much.”

The man shrugs, “Is it working?”

Junmyeon’s about to answer when Yifan’s superintendent, a smiley general physician, approaches him with papers and a pair of yellow shirts.

“Here,” she says. “Change into this. The staff made our patients stay inside the hall, we start rounds in an hour. You should get ready Dr. Wu. You may have one assistant.” She glances at Junmyeon, “I think this lovely girl shall do.”

Junmyeon smiles. “Alright. Shall I call myself, nurse Kim?” She’s waggling her eyebrows at him, Yifan laughs. “No. You can’t call yourself a nurse. The nurses will give you the stink eye.”

~*~

As far as general medical missions go, Yifan’s patients are all children and aging people plagued by routine sickness and the worst cases of upper respiratory tract infections – the common cold. He glances at Junmyeon from time to time, eyebrows scrunched as she tries to decipher his ugly handwriting.

“It’s just paracetamol, Jun.” Yifan says, tucking an errant strand of red hair behind her ear.

“I just wanna make sure. Your handwriting is inexplicably horrible.”

“I’m a doctor to be, having an ugly handwriting is a prerogative.”

“I thought that was a legend.”

“Nope. You’re doing a good job as a nurse stand-in, by the way.”

Junmyeon beams at him. “I try.”

“Doc Wu.”

Yifan turns to his colleague whose brows are scrunched as she shows him a chart. “Three days fluctuating fever, vomiting, and complains about muscle pain.” The other doctor hands him a chart, “and the blood work is insane. PLT too low for a good prognosis. I’m not familiar with this though. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it on my rounds.”

The medical student surveys the patient. It’s a child, probably ten, who’s shivering in a thin jacket. The little girl smiles at Yifan as he assesses the discreet rashes on her exposed neck.

“Keyword: virology.” Yifan tells the other medical student. “It’s the Dengue virus.”

“How’d you know? Are you familiar with the case?”

“Nope. But this part of the continent is a hotspot for mosquito related infections, and those rashes are practically alarm bells. We’ll have to call Doc Park for the official diagnosis. Patient needs to be hospitalized ASAP.”

Yifan beckons for a nurse. “We need to hook her up. I’ll get an ambulance.”

The superintendent merely gives the patient a once over before confirming Yifan’s diagnosis. Half an hour later, he’s inside an ambulance with Junmyeon holding the patient’s mother who’d started crying minutes ago.

Junmyeon is not allowed in the ambulance in the first place but Yifan had insisted her presence – breaching protocol. He does not care.

She surprises him yet again for her empathy is almost boundless. She hushes the panicking parent with comforting touches, says “it’s going to be alright, she’s going to be okay.”

Yifan prays to god that she ceases being perfection personified or he’s not going to pull through with his pseudo promise of not falling in love with her.

She’s so ing perfect and Yifan is absolutely gone.

~*~

“Here’s coffee.”

Junmyeon sits beside him outside the ER as the patient is hooked into an IV with local physicians attending over her.

“Thank you.” Yifan says, smiling. He feels tired all of a sudden, and not because of the surprising trip to the ER, but over his feelings clamoring up his throat. It’s going to choke him.

“I haven’t actually seen Doc Wu in action until now.” Junmyeon leans against him and takes his hand. She has such dainty fingers and  they slot nicely against his own. “You’re going to be a great doctor.”

“You’re going to inflate my ego, thanks though.” Yifan chuckles.

“I just want you to know.”

“You can tell me that when I graduate in a year and half.”

“I think I wouldn’t be here to tell you that.”

She stands up before he can question the vague statement. “Let’s go back to the village. They need their doctor back.”

~*~

The village is beautiful but Yifan thinks that it’s just Junmyeon’s general effect on the way he sees things.

Currently, they’re in some sort of local festivity.

There’s more weird food and weird drinks. The whole staff are decked in odd looking traditional garb. Junmyeon is wearing an elaborate headdress and she’s smiling happily amid the local children dancing around her.

Yifan snaps more pictures, smiling passively at each one. Minseok would have told him he looked like a lovestruck fool as he browsed through his photos. He’s supposed to take pictures for further documentation but his camera is just full of Junmyeon.

He is so caught up in it that he does not notice when said subject of his pictures approach him with the biggest grin on her face. “Yifan come on. It’s fun!”

Against his will, Junmyeon is dragging him to dance again. He probably looks like an idiot but Junmyeon’s laughter is a big distracting force.

Junmyeon makes him do things he doesn’t dare think about and oddly enough, he is alright with all this craziness. If he gets to hear her laughing in the background, he’d be there, always.

The gravity of the realization hits him full force.

And maybe, maybe he’s fallen in love with her.

“They say there’s a spring near the mountains. Should we go?”

“Isn’t that a bit too dangerous for us?”

“Oh, come on, Fan. The chief is very willing to us. He told me he’d let his oldest children tag along. They’re familiar with the place.”

Yifan just shrugs and before he knows it, they’re being carted on the back of a dilapidated pickup truck. Yifan wonders if he’s going to contract an infection just by going near it but Junmyeon didn’t even bat an eyelash as she scrambled on top without preamble.

Her red hair blows to a disarray under the midday sun.

Beautiful.

The spring is located at the foot of the mountains. The water is clean and cold as ice. Tall trees provide a modicum of privacy.

Yifan turns to Junmyeon – who is currently stripping off her shirt and jeans. Yifan chokes as planes of pale flesh are displayed right before his eyes. He won’t be forgetting those black undergarments even when Junmyeon had dived into the water with an excited shout.

She is going to send him into cardiac arrest.

“It’s cold!” as she emerges from the water, red hair all wet.

“No one told you to jump right in.” Yifan chuckles, as he puts his camera aside and discards his t-shirt and his jeans. He joins Junmyeon in the water, shivering as the water meets his skin. “We’ve lived in a place where it snows, so how the hell can we not tolerate this cold.”

“I happen to like my hot showers, thank you very much.”

“Point taken.” 

Junmyeon splashes water onto his face, laughing with mirth.

“Oh, it’s on.”

In the end, Junmyeon’s playful laughter rings into his ear. The people who’ve escorted them to the spring have long disappeared. No one notices.

When they emerge, Yifan’s hands are frigid. He puts on his shirt. Junmyeon apparently brought spare towels but no spare clothes. So, they are left with no choice but to sit on the ground as their wet undergarments dried on their flesh.

Yifan’s seeing too much skin for his own good. Junmyeon has no qualms whatsoever about prancing in her underwear right in front of him.

“Jesus,” He wraps her in a towel and cages her in his arms. “Stop moving around. You’re driving me crazy.”

Junmyeon looks far too innocent as she implores at him with those tantalizingly soft, hazel irises. Yifan’s going to kiss her.

“Is there something wrong?”

Yifan sighs then aggressively wraps the towel around her body until only her head is visible. “There, now you’re like a drenched bunny. Behave.”

Junmyeon ing pouts at him. Yifan is done. He hugs her tighter, and banishes all thoughts of her pale skin away from his head before they take roots into his fantasies.

He doesn’t want that to happen, but she’s testing his patience.

Later, after their undergarments are finally dry, they text the village chief that they'd be fine wandering around by themselves.

And now they’re lost.

“This isn’t working.” Junmyeon complains. They’re supposed to call someone from the village but the service is nonexistent.

 “So, we’re stuck here?”

Yifan shrugs. “Let’s just go for a walk. We stop at the next house we see and hope that kind strangers are willing to lend us their floor or something.”

“What if we get kidnapped, or I don’t know. It’s eerie.”

“I heard some nasty legends.” Yifan whispers, “They talk about phantoms that lurk in these plantations. The story goes on to say that the blood of hapless victims makes these pineapples taste all the sweeter.”

Junmyeon whacks him. “What the , Fan?  You’re freaking me out.”

Yifan’s laugh echoes in the distance. “Come on, let’s just take a walk. I want an excuse to hold your hand.”

The moon shines above them, blanketing the ground in a dull light. It’s cold, the breeze bites a bit harsher but Yifan thinks the situation is perfect. Junmyeon’s slender fingers are nice, and they fit nicely against his own.

“This is the most unusual date I’ve been on.”

“This isn’t even a date.”

“Oh, it’s not?”

“Do you want to date?”

Junmyeon does not answer for the longest time, merely squeezes Yifan’s fingers.

“Let’s go on a proper one when we’re back in Seoul. We’d do all those cliché things I see on dramas. I’ve always wondered what it’s gonna be like.”

Junmyeon scoffs, “You’re hopeless. I don’t care though, this is a date, a weird, memorable date.”

“Whatever you want, Jun. Whatever you want.”

And they talk, for hours. Conversations hushed in respect to whatever beings that seemed to lurk in the steadily darkening night. For reasons he can’t put his finger on, Yifan is perfectly at ease. As if it’s completely normal to be lost in an unfamiliar place, with no other human being but Junmyeon by his side. It’s comforting to be suspended in this situation with her. It’s almost like the place is compelling the two to spill their secrets because they know that no one is listening.

Junmyeon talks, tells him about her childhood. She calls it nonexistent for she’d started her education at an early age. She didn’t get to be a child for she had been forced to grow up all too soon.

“I don’t remember my parents much. They sent me to this boarding school in the UK when I was, like, nine. They never really visited. The only indication that they still remembered me were the lavish presents I received on my birthday, on holidays. Stuff like that. I moved to America at sixteen. I stayed there for a couple of years before relocating back here.”

In return he finally tells him about his past. That he never really had a father, only a mother who died a couple of years back. It still stings, when he recalls the memories and he finds himself unable to tell Junmyeon the whole thing, it’s like clawing his heart out. He is still not ready to do that.

He tells him of his experiences in medical school, instead. He tells her that he prefers palliative care because it taught him empathy.

“I plan to further my studies in Neuroscience after I graduate. My professors tell me it’s perfect because I operated like I wasn’t a human being. That’s why I’m in palliative care. I connect with my humanity when I get to interact with people who’re dying. It’s a bit sick if I put it that way, but it’s been helping me a lot.”

“You’re going to be great.”

“I hope so.”

“What about you, what do you want to be after university. When reality calls.”

“I want to make things right, once and for all.”

Maybe it’s just Junmyeon and her penchant for cryptic words so Yifan does not question her anymore. Her vagueness is part of her charm.

In time, they finally reach a well-lighted, two-story house. Yifan knocks and it’s not long before a boy opens the door for him. He smiles.

The boy’s mother calls from somewhere inside the house, Yifan did not understand a word she said.

“Uhm, Hi?”

The boy stares at them curiously. A middle-aged woman approaches the door and as soon as she notices the yellow shirts they are wearing, she immediately lets them in.

Yifan explains their situation and the lady of the house didn’t think twice about letting them use the spare bedroom.

They’re having a conversation as dinner is served. It’s some meat dish and rice and slices of pineapples.

The woman speaks decent English. She tells them that her husband is working in the Middle East and her oldest daughter is a piano teacher in the city.

“Oh, so the piano in the living room, it’s hers?”

“Yes.” Their host stands up, “Do you play?”

“Yifan is fantastic.” Junmyeon immediately quips, just after she devours half of the served pineapples. “He plays Stravinsky. Play for us, Fan!”

So, Yifan now finds himself in front of a dusty Yamaha.  The instrument needs tuning but it would do. He feels nervous as he realizes that this is the first time he’s going to play in front of people.

Junmyeon’s staring at him expectantly so he closes his eyes and caresses the keys into the familiar tune of Satie’s first Gymnopedie.

It’s been so long since he’s played Satie and the sheet music doesn’t come to him as easily as ‘Firebird’, or ‘Rite of Spring’. But for the first time in a long while, Yifan lets go.

When he finishes,the woman is sniffling and Junmyeon is practically beaming at him.

“Satie. It’s what my daughter used to play for me. I miss her.”

Yifan vacates the piano seat, his fingers are shaking. “I’m sure your daughter misses you too. Are you alright?”

 “I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m a dramatic old woman. Anyway, you two should rest, there’s a bathroom and some spare clothes in the closet.upstairs."

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome. I should be the one thanking you all for coming here. We appreciate it a lot. By the way, if you want a tour to the pineapple plantations, I can take you tomorrow.”

“Really?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh god thank you, that would be a dream come true. Thank you!”

“It’s the least I can do, please get some rest.”

Junmyeon is smiling so widely. Yifan can’t help but be happy for she is happy.

“So, pineapples, huh?”

Yifan is lying on the cold wooden floor, refusing to join Junmyeon on the tiny double bed.

“Yes, but will you please climb over here. I don’t really think you should be sleeping on the floor.”

“Let’s just sleep, Junmyeon.”

“But Yifan.”

Yifan hushes her and just when he thinks Junmyeon is already asleep, she surprises him by stepping off the bed and clambering over his personal space without preamble. She’s wearing the thinnest shirt and the shortest pair of shorts – Yifan’s brain might short circuit.

“Come on Yifan, I don’t want you sleeping on the floor. It makes me feel bad.”

The man sighs and slightly pushes Junmyeon’s body away from him in a modicum of self-preservation. “Fine, fine. Just I need to - “ breathe “stand up.”

The bed is tiny. Their skin is touching. Yifan’s nerves are fraying.

The last time they shared a bed had been alright, because Junmyeon had been distressed and Yifan was very willing to distract her. He has no excuse this time, whatsoever, and there’s this huge possibility that he wouldn’t be able to control himself (after all the unnecessary wave of alluring distractions Junmyeon had subjected him into) he thinks he is going to snap.

Junmyeon throws an arm around his torso, asks, “Is this okay?”

Yifan allows himself a small moment of quiet. He shifts and in the dark, stares at Junmyeon. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re driving me crazy.” It’s a whisper against Junmyeon’s ear as Yifan pulls her towards him – her back to his front. Their legs tangle, and his lips press against the skin of Junmyeon’s neck.

“Is that a bad thing?” Junmyeon asks after so long. She relaxes against Yifan’s hold, allowing his hands to wander onto the soft skin on her thigh – same thigh that is casually wedged in between his own.

“No.” Yifan leaves a long kiss on her neck, drawing out a short moan from the back of Junmyeon’s throat. “Tell me to stop.”

Yifan waits and he hears his own blood rushing. Junmyeon doesn’t say anything, just breathes in a way as if she’s panting. Yifan’s hands travel under her shirt, touching heated skin. Junmyeon keens; he’s going to combust.

“Please?” Her tone is halfway between a demand and a plea. Yifan likes this side of her.

“Please what?”

“Do something,”

There’s a voice at the back of Yifan’s mind that screams that they should not do this.

Contrary to popular belief, Yifan believes in commitment and he’s not the biggest fan of casual flings

But there’s just something about Junmyeon that’s too irresistible. Yifan is helpless.

“We can’t do this.” Yifan manages to say, after he kisses a mark on Junmyeon's jugular. "We should stop."

“, Yifan, I don’t want you to stop.”

Yifan’s head clears. “We can’t, Junmyeon.” He’s breathless, as if he’d run an actual marathon. Junmyeon makes an annoyed sound and he merely chuckles. “Before we do anything that doesn’t require clothes, let me take you out. Let’s go on those cliché dates you hate.”

“Wow, thanks for all the unnecessary .” Junmyeon deadpans.

Yifan presses a short, chaste kiss on her cheek. “I haven’t been laid in god knows how long, you don’t know what is.” Yifan merely spoons her, ignoring his arousal. “Good things come to those who wait, Jun.”

“You better take me on the best goddamn dates.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go to sleep.”

Miraculously, Yifan manages to sleep, Junmyeon safely caged in his arms.

He can get used to this.

~*~

Junmyeon is beaming, screaming at the top of her lungs as she cartwheels over her precious pineapples. “I can’t believe this is actually happening to me!” There’s a streak of dirt on Junmyeon’s cheek but her grin is wide, happy and truly infectious. The smile on her face radiated her glee in a way that seemed to rival the sun itself.

“Junmyeon, it’s just pineapples.”

“Yes, and I love pineapples!”

They’re allowed a day off after two continuous days of serving the locale. Wandering across vast acres of pineapples recharged the finance major’s happiness and even if Yifan truly despises being on the backseat of a motorcycle when Junmyeon’s driving, he could not help but entertain her. He’s also carrying a utility knife for the sole purpose of cutting pineapples.

She reminds him of a bunny. Adorable.

“I keep telling you to live a little and yet I’ve never really felt alive in such a long while. I was starting to forget what alive felt like, and I was reminded of it today. I want to thank you for that, for taking me here.”

They’re eating an early dinner; leaning against the motorcycle as they share prepared food,packed in plastic containers. It’s almost dark – the sky is a swirling mess of color, blazing into tangents of ochre and red before fading into the beginning of night. The wind blows harder, the air is crisp. Yifan inhales, lets the calm settle upon his weary bones.

“You don’t have to thank me. You don’t need to thank people for the happiness you deserve.”

“Am I happy?”

Yifan merely glances, before he wraps an arm around her waist to pull her close. “Are you happy, Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon looks at him, her expression is unreadable.

“Will it please you if I’d admit that you’re the only person to have asked me that? It’s been so long Fan, I don’t know what happiness is anymore.”

“It’s definitely a feeling.” Yifan answers, “Like when you’re surrounded with pineapples and your smile is brighter than the sun.”

With a shrug, she tells him. “Maybe this weird fruit reminds me of a time where I’d been genuinely happy. My memories are vague so I hold on to something that’s tangible. How about you, Fan. What makes you happy?”

Yifan smiles. He has so many answers to that question but recently it equated into something that had to do with Junmyeon. These days, everything seemed to revolve around her. Yifan is sure that his situation is not entirely a good thing.

 Junmyeon is averse to such fleeting emotions and Yifan has yet to figure out something that would validate his feelings. Because this, whatever it is, is not fleeting, it’s too all-encompassing to be fleeting.

“Yifan?”

“Hmm?”

Junmyeon’s stare has changed throughout the months that they’ve stuck to each other. When they first met, she was not as open. Her glances always had this guarded veneer; Yifan could never read her.

It’s different now. She looks at Yifan with the most carelessly open expressions and he could easily breeze through each smile, frown; every minute furrow of eyebrows, the pressing of lips – she’s easy to read now.

“What makes you happy?” she reiterates as a slice of pineapple disappears between her pink lips.

“You.” Yifan can’t help it. “You make me happy.”

Yifan had been expecting a lot of things, however, Junmyeon brazenly pulling him down to press a lingering kiss on the side of his mouth, is definitely not one of them.

“Let me breathe.”

Yifan did not waste the time on wondering whatever Junmyeon meant by that because the next second he’s kissing her again. She throws both arms around his neck as his, wrap around her torso. Yifan passively notes the way she fits right against him, bodies slotting perfectly. Yifan thinks he likes the taste of pineapple on Junmyeon’s lips.

“What do you mean?” Yifan asks as soon as they part. “Do I suffocate you?” And he’s asking this in a different context.

Junmyeon shakes her head and her embrace tightens. “It’s overwhelming.”

“Is this okay?”

“This is perfect.”

And for what seemed like forever, they stay suspended in that quiet limbo. Yifan is unafraid of taking another step into their ambiguous relationship but on the contrary, he can feel Junmyeon’s barely suppressed panic. She kissed him with finesse, but there’s a of uncertainty to it that Yifan could not miss.

She’s unsure but Yifan is willing to wait.

“Thank you.”

“For what.”

“For pineapples.”

Yifan chuckles.

“I’d give you pineapples always if it makes you happy.”

“It’s not just pineapples.”

“I know, Jun. I know.”

~*~

In Seoul, Nurse Zhang Yixing is surprised to see a familiar face on the national broadsheet.

BUSINESS: Meet the Heiress to Asia’s most successful mixed industry conglomerate, Kim Junmyeon.

“What?”

hi. i found myself missing my homeland a lot so i kinda self indulged? 

un edited as usual.