The lights were low and warm and the walls were a deep maroon, the floors a polished hardwood. Whispered conversations lulled to soft jazz. In the far back corner where an intimate table set for two resided, a lone man impatiently drummed fingertips against the screen of a phone.

His head rested in one hand, the glass of red wine and basket of buttered bread untouched. The wax in the candle was melted, flame flickering with each quiet sigh. He mindlessly brushed his fingers over the touch screen, checking to see if any messages had come in.

For the umpteenth time, he found nothing. Pulling up his text message folder, he scrolled through the lack of responses from his late date.

Frowning, he tapped on the reply button.

You’re not coming again, are you?

He pressed send.

Grabbing the glass of red wine, he downed it and stood up. The man slipped on his coat, wrapping a wool scarf around his throat. Tugging it tight, he stuffed hands into pockets and whisked himself out of the restaurant.

He hailed a taxi, climbing in and directing the driver back to his city townhouse. The first snow fall of the year fluttered down from the heavens, melting against the windows of the city cab. His hands were clenched in fists in his lap, forehead resting upon the cool glass. Sighing softly, he shook his head once, eyes shut tightly in barely constrained frustration.

Upon reaching his home, he paid the driver generously, asking him to wait, before trudging up the steps and unlocking the door. He slammed it shut behind him, ripping off the scarf and coat.

“Something wrong, Ryeowook?”

Slowly lifting his gaze, he found his brother-in-law, Leeteuk, peering up from his book. The slim blonde was smiling curiously, glasses perched on his nose.

“That forgot our date again,” he responded flatly, already headed towards the staircase. Gripping the railing hard, he sped up the steps, “I swear, I’m done with that horrible man. He’s insensitive, a liar, a cheater—”

“—whoa, whoa, calm down!” Leeteuk was on his heels within a second, catching his shoulder as they reached the top landing.

Ryeowook shrugged it off, making a beeline for the master bedroom. “I am tired of dealing with him,” he exasperated. The closet was thrown open, a duffel bag jerked out vehemently. Ryeowook started tearing clothes down from the hangers, shoving them into the leather carrier. “You don’t understand what it’s like being married to such a bastard, hyung. He might be your little brother, but you can’t possibly understand what it’s like to be the last priority.” He looked up at the blonde man helplessly watching him pack.

Leeteuk breathed in and exhaled out slowly. “Okay, that is fair,” he conceded, “but you know Kyuhyun. He’s…he’s a mess. You’re the only one he has ever even been remotely serious about. He even agreed to marriage.” his lips, the older man, touched Ryeowook’s arm, trying to settle the rage bubbling in the room. “The very fact that he has been married to you for five years is shocking to all of us. Kyuhyun might not show it well, but you’re incredibly important to him.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do care.”

Ryeowook lifted his gaze, eyes dark and cold. “I’m serious. I do not care.” He paused. “I did care. I really did. But do you see what he’s like?” Shaking his head, he grabbed a shirt from the closet, stopping when he realized it was an old, slightly frayed, and horribly ugly red sweater. There was a poorly embroidered cat on the chest with mismatched buttons for eyes and crooked whiskers.

He dropped it on the floor, reaching up and tugging two dress shirts down from the bar. “I’m not a fool,” Ryeowook sighed, “I know what he does. I know that he fools around. He likes to go drinking. He likes playing with people. I was the one who pushed for marriage. I’m even surprised that he found me interesting enough to marry.” Laughing sharply, he shook his head dismissively. “You know what? Scratch that. He didn’t find me interesting enough to marry. He just decided that I’m the only fool that would stay by his side for that long without asking for much more than a few dinners a month together and a shared home.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Leeteuk argued weakly, afraid to speak too far out of terms and raise false hope. Who knew what his little brother was thinking? Kyuhyun was weird. He had a very estranged sense of right and wrong, valued and unvalued.

“It’s understandable that you’re trying to defend him,” Ryeowook smiled gently, tiredly, “but it’s enough already, hyung. I…I’m done. I thought I could handle him. I thought once we were married, maybe he would be…I don’t know,” he dropped his gaze to the sweater, studying it for a brief moment, “never mind. I don’t know what I was going to say.”

“At least talk it over with him before up and disappearing,” he blurted. Leeteuk’s hand was twitching for his phone, desperately aching to call Kyuhyun’s private line. He had several phones and there was always one phone that he would pick up no matter what. For some reason though – Leeteuk never asked – Kyuhyun never gave that number to Ryeowook.

The slender male shook his head seriously. Silently, he walked over to his dresser, opening up the bottom drawer. Pulling out a folder, he set it on the bed before bending down to pick up and fold the red sweater. “I already decided. This was his last chance. If he came to our date on time and stayed, I would do the same – stay. Stay with him. Love him for the rest of my life.” Ryeowook’s voice drained away, words barely audible even in the silence. His lips quivered the slightest bit, almost as if laughing at his own stupidity. “But he didn’t show up, y’know. I can’t take it. I’m sorry.”

“Is that…?” Leeteuk’s eyes had trailed over to the quiet folder on the bed.

The sound of the zipper shutting was more deafening than any noise to ever touch Leeteuk’s ears and he was immediately regretting not calling Kyuhyun right away.

Ryeowook swung the bag over one shoulder. “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff some other time. Text me when he’s not home and I’ll bring around a moving truck.”

“I will not!” Leeteuk retorted, brow furrowing.

“Yes, you will,” he smiled. “Thank you, hyung.”

His face fell, eyes filled with panic. “Please Ryeowook, just hold on.” He knew it was weak, but there was nothing else he could say.

“Good night,” he patted the older male’s shoulder and then was pushing past into the hallway, down the stairs and out the door with his coat and scarf in hand.

Leeteuk watched him go silently, the soft clicking of the shutting front door echoing in an echoless room.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed his little brother’s number as he sank down onto the top floor’s steps.

“Hello? What is it?” Kyuhyun’s deep voice rumbled through the speaker.

“He’s gone.”

“…what?” the young man asked softly, seemingly understanding.

The corner of Leeteuk’s mouth quirked oddly, apologetically. “Ryeowook...he, uhm, he left. I’m sorry, Kyuhyun. Really, I’m sorry.”