tik tik tik

A beige unassuming clock on the wall diligently moved its hands towards 11.10 am. The tea he had brewed a few minutes before they had arrived sat untouched in the four ceramic cups. The normally busy street above his head was quiet, the recently fallen snow muffling any and all footsteps going past his window.

sniffle

The red ink on the papers shone harshly in the dimly-lit semi-basement. Inside small circles were his and her stamps. Two for divorce, two for custody. Her parents served as witnesses. Maybe he should have protested against that.

rustle

The man in his late forties fished something out of his jacket. A clear bag with stacks of 50,000 won notes.

“Since we are sitting in this dump with you, I’m assuming the key money payment went through. Here’s the rest, as agreed.”

The bag was placed on his set of papers. The first words after necessary greetings hadn’t done much for the stifling silence that hung around them.

He looked up to watch the young woman seated between her parents. Quiet, watching her intertwined hands in her lap with disinterest.

“Hyesun…”

The woman closed her eyes.

“If there’s nothing more, then we should be off on our way. We don’t want to waste your time.”

He stayed silent, wishing that the daughter would speak up instead, one last time.

Hadn’t it been just a little over a year when they embraced each other in bliss and awe?

The parents stood up, nodding at him before going to the front door.

She stood up as well, walking past him with her head held high.

babble

She froze as she was passing the crib. Almost… Her head almost turned to the sound of the tiny girl waking up from her nap.

And then she kept walking.

After hearing the door close, he stood up from his pillow on the floor and took the papers in his hand. They felt foreign to him, like watching a scene from a drama rather than handling the most important documents of his so-called life.

Signed, Kim Ryeowook. The sole parent of Kim Sarang.

*******

The sun was hanging low when Cho Kyuhyun finally emerged from the library, yawning as he tucked his laptop in his messenger bag. A stack on papers was blocking the way for the laptop, and he idle-mindedly kept crushing the notes on history of jazz music trying to push the laptop further in. It would be the test week before Lunar New Year holidays soon, and he had skipped lunch for the fourth time this week trying to cram everything into a manageable 8-hour day. As result his stomach was constantly churning and demanding attention in the quiet of the library, earning him dirty looks from the front desk lady who just last week told him that snack weren’t allowed in there.

There was one upside to tolerating low blood sugar and hypocritical library ladies though.

ding

“Hello sir! Welcome to Seven-Eleven~”

Kyuhyun couldn’t help but grin as he heard the melodic voice greet him. He knew perfectly well that the store clerk was nice and polite to all of his customers, but…

“Ah, hello again! Come to pick up some katsusando an americano again?”

Kim Ryeowook was wearing his too big uniform with a cute little smile again. He was wiping his hands to a towel, apparently having just finished mopping the floor behind the counter. Kyuhyun kept noticing these new, tiny details about him every time he visited. Or, well, it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the other’s delicate hands or the dimpled smile or thick lashes before… He just really enjoyed appreciating those things anew every time he came in.

“Yep! And throw in a KitKat as well, I’m starving.”

Ryeowook nodded and went to ring up his items as Kyuhyun meandered to the coffee machine, stealing glances at the other man while waiting for his pick-me-up to drip. He had been visiting this Seven-Eleven for half a year now, and the tiny store clerk never seemed to change. Come raging storm or sweltering heat,  he always wore this serene, unaffected impression. Nothing seemed to anger or faze him, not the rambunctious school kids, uptight businessmen or drunken college guys and girls alike trying to hit on him, emboldened by the thousand won soju.

And maybe therein laid Kyuhyun’s problem.

“It’s 7,000 and 80 please!”

As his feelings for the Seven-Eleven cutie had only grown stronger, from a dumb-struck lighting crush to a full-on I’m-dood