Three days.

Kyuhyun still hadn’t successfully contacted Ryeowook. Of course, the odds were against him, but it was increasingly frustrating how little control he had over the situation. Was this also a form of punishment? No matter what he suffered, it would not be enough to match the years of pain he put Ryeowook through. That much became clearer each day.

Was there anything Kyuhyun could even say if they met? What would convince Ryeowook to come back? Was there anything valuable enough? Worse yet, was there a way to show him that this time, Kyuhyun would be serious? Such thoughts often led to dangerous self-reflection, though. Even Leeteuk seemed to think Kyuhyun was a lost cause. In such a situation, was there hope that anyone else would believe Kyuhyun’s change of heart? Further, no matter how forgiving Ryeowook had been in the past, it would be wishful thinking to assume he believed in anything related to Kyuhyun anymore.

Ding…

The soft chiming of the clock dragged him out of his thoughts for a mere moment. Scrambling for his bedside clock, he read the time with a mixture of dread and anxiety. Although it didn’t happen every night, it was frequent enough to keep Kyuhyun on his toes. It seemed that this time-travel business was a bit more calculated than he initially assumed. Only certain days—seemingly random—were allowed. Kyuhyun only mildly understood the significance of each day. It had been easy the first time, but that was the day he first laid eyes on Ryeowook. So of course, he couldn’t forget that moment. The following visits were slightly harder to understand. Sometimes, Kyuhyun was so utterly confused that he just found a place to rest until time was up and he was whisked back to the present.

This night, however, he was pulled back to the past and new almost exactly what the day was. It was the first snowfall of the year. Mid-December.

He and Ryeowook had grown closer over the months through Kyuhyun’s insistent flirting. Whenever he had a chance, he would go to Sungmin’s apartment, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryeowook coming in or departing. He would also never fail to extend a dinner invitation during those brief encounters. Around midterms at the end of October, he had finally worn Ryeowook down enough to get a coffee date. Kyuhyun recalled how hard he worked back then to court the older man…only to grow disinterested the more Ryeowook came to like him.

Kyuhyun gazed at the apartment building’s aged brick and warm lights—the sound of laughter and conversation coming muffled through the walls. Those really were good times. It was such a carefree time. Aren’t I still acting carefree?

The front door creaked open, followed by the sound of bickering. Kyuhyun frowned at the sight of Ryeowook and his younger self shuffling down the walkway. Backing into the shadows, he watched them curiously, wondering if perhaps he had gotten the timeline wrong. They should’ve been at Kyuhyun’s dorm this evening, watching shows and relaxing after final exams. It would eventually lead to Ryeowook growing sleepy and chilly and Kyuhyun offering him the red sweater.

A horrible sweater from a horrible man.  

What he saw now was a mildly irritable pair of college students, reluctantly trudging down the street.

“You really should’ve just stayed indoors. You’re going to freeze,” Ryeowook sighed.

“Your sweater is warm enough,” Young-Kyuhyun bit back, but his teeth were clearly chattering despite the thick scarf also wrapped around his throat.

Kyuhyun narrowed his eyes at the scarf, wondering why it was so familiar. In a flash, it hit him. What? He stumbled after them, keeping to the darker corners of the street. Why does he have something I gave my Ryeowook for Christmas three years ago? He knew that if he could get a hold of the scarf, it would have an embroidered “R” on the bottom fringe.

“Whatever,” Ryeowook mumbled. “Let’s hurry up. I don’t want to be responsible if you come down with something…again.”

“What do you mean again?”

The older man gave him a pointed look. “Let’s not pretend that we don’t know each other’s daily routines. I am highly aware of the days you’re absent and often catch whispers of why you’re missing.”

Young-Kyuhyun flushed in the cold, eyes cutting to the ground. “You’re real pompous, you know that?”

“I’m only telling the truth. Most people don’t get severely sick five times in one month.”

In retaliation, Young-Kyuhyun whipped his head up, glowering. “Most people don’t pass the out at the library multiple times a week. What are you studying so hard for anyway? You’re a music composition major.”

Ryeowook frowned, eyes narrowing. “Unlike some people, I actually enjoy my studies. I don’t need to get drunk and party until I pass out in someone’s basement. I’d much rather fall asleep in the comforts of a warm library if it was a choice.”

“You have a shockingly sharp tongue.”

“When you’re bound to hurt both of us in the future, I think I have a little right to bully you,” Ryeowook cracked a small smile. The glimmer in his eyes was far more apologetic and hesitant than Young-Kyuhyun expected to find though.

Heaving a sigh, the younger man glared at the falling snow. “Look. I’m trying real hard not to go down that path. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me. I know myself and I won’t drag anyone down if I can help it.”

Silence wrapped around them as they rounded a corner, continuing down the main street of town. Ryeowook finally spoke up as they passed a bookshop, their reflections clear in the glass. “You know, maybe if you weren’t so hellbent on hurting yourself constantly, then you also wouldn’t hurt others.” He glanced over at the dumbstruck man. “If you’re so aware of your bad life choices, then why not change them? No one deserves that much pain, especially self-inflicted.”

Kyuhyun wondered if his own Ryeowook had come to those revelations around the same time. He had been so blinded by his own pursuits during this period of their lives that it hadn’t occurred to him that perhaps Ryeowook was looking at him clearly. Just how much did Ryeowook know about Kyuhyun’s inner thoughts?

Was he always so transparent? Or was Ryeowook just a superbly talented individual? Or maybe, Ryeowook was merely a normal human with the capacity to love. Kyuhyun wondered what that felt like without the constant weight of anxiety to sour any feelings of love. Had he ever managed to love Ryeowook free of his own burdensome baggage?

No. I wish it were yes.

“I’m not…,” Young-Kyuhyun trailed off, clearly unsure how to proceed now that someone had laid bare his thoughts and feelings without a care.

Ryeowook burrowed deeper into his own scarf. “You’re not a bad person at heart...I think.” He chanced a glance at the younger man, noticing that he was listening but not looking back. “I don’t know what your end goal is, but if the future has anything to say about it, you aren’t happy with the outcome. It’s not too late right now for you to start being more honest with everything.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Ryeowook shrugged, but said nothing.

Young-Kyuhyun clenched his hands into fists inside the sweater’s pockets. “I…just don’t know what else to do. Games are fun. I guess they got out of control at some point. But now, when I try to get serious…,” his face grew red with embarrassment, but he pushed on, eyes zeroed in on the edge of the gray scarf. “Everyone at this age has some sort of commitment issue. We can’t even commit to a major. How am I supposed to commit to another person? It seems crazy.”

“No one is asking that of you—”

“—you did. In the future, you do. I know I would never propose marriage, so that means it must’ve been you.”

Ryeowook cracked a grin. “I’m not gonna propose this time around, so you can relax. There’s no need to rush into anything you’re not ready for. You’re barely 19 years old.”

“The way you talk like you’re much older than me is irritating,” Young-Kyuhyun remarked wryly.

“Well, when you act so much younger, what else should I do?”

He barked a laugh. “Is this why you’re quiet? You don’t want people to know that you’ve got a wicked tongue?”

Ryeowook just smiled—a small unpleasant one that made Kyuhyun wonder if he had ever seen such an honest expression on his ex-husband’s face. Could he really look like that? Were they having fun bantering like that? Young-Kyuhyun, from his actions and words, seemed equally amused by their exchange.

On one hand, Kyuhyun was happy with their growing comfort with one another. On the other, he didn’t like that they had already set boundaries on their relationship. It would be pointless if they moved forward with a friendship that had no opening for romance. Kyuhyun would have done nothing to alter his future.

As he watched them venture down a road—a different road, he wondered if his wish would ever come true. Had he been visited by an angel only to be teased? Was that phantom of himself so many nights ago just a cruel devil? What had been the true purpose of being given a chance to “change the past”? Had it ever been about changing anything?

Kyuhyun felt his fingertips beginning to tingle and exhaled deeply. Time was already up? It had barely been a few minutes. Perhaps a half hour, at most.

Slowly, the vision of a winter past faded away and he was returned to the cold confines of his bedroom. I’m so…tired