01 WINTER
Winter's just starting. But the snow's already falling.

Myungsoo stops in his tracks and spins on his heels, looking back down the street he had just wandered through. Few of his neighbors were up and bustling, most seeming irritable about something. He shifts his view to his right, to the row of cluttered Brooklyn-style brick apartments. He watches as two mid-aged women scramble out of one building, complaining 'she's too damn loud in the morning' and 'she's at it again'. He quietly scoffs and continues walking down the street. Suzy.

The last building on the right. Thirteenth floor. 1318.

He stands outside the door, sighing when he hears the faint sound of a piano coming from inside. He looks under Suzy's beloved, yet tacky, 'welcome' mat for the key, and quickly unlocks the door. Some would call their apartment depressing. Some would say they were wasting such a useful room. High ceilings, white walls, tall windows. Suzy loved it when he showed her the pictures. It wasn't a waste for him, even if they didn't use it to its full potential. She loved it, and that was all that mattered. Still matters.

Shutting the door behind him, he walks into the one-room apartment. Not organized, not messy, elaborate trinkets and thick books stacked on the shelf near the door, Suzy's British plaid umbrellas and Myungsoo's shoes compiled on top of one another, blocking the entrance, more of Suzy's odd knick-knacks and the faint smell of tea. Suzy sits on the piano bench, reworking her latest composition.

He leans against one wall, and lightly chuckles under his breath, a smile tugging on his lips. His eyes roam their home. Suzy always knew how to make a mess when he was gone. Their bed's white sheets tossed onto the wood floor, end table drawers left open, music books scattered on the floor on her side. A small piano on the right. The small 'kitchen' nearby it. Armchairs cluttered in the center. Sometimes, Myungsoo wonders why Suzy even bothered with an apartment that couldn't even fit all of their furniture. It has charm, she would argue.

He hears the clamor of many piano keys being smashed down at one time, and he averts his eyes back to Suzy.

"Myungsoo!" she scolds, doe eyes wide open. "You should knock or at least tell me when you come back!"

"Sorry," he whispers, a smirk painted on his lips. "You make such a fuss in the morning. The neighbors are complaining."

She lightly frowns. He walks to the tiny area they dared to call a kitchen, Suzy trailing close behind, and placed the bag of assorted pastries onto the counter.

"Did you get my favorite?" she peers into the bag's contents. He scoffs, and she shyly smiles.

Myungsoo runs a hand through his hair as he watches her happily undo the wrapping of a raspberry scone. "Why are you up so early?"

"You make too much noise when you get up." Suzy answers with a half mouth full.

"Is this even safe?" Myungsoo scrunches his face and pulls out a tin can of tea leaves. "It's been months."

"Of course it is!" Suzy exclaims, defending her expensive, fancy Spanish herbal tea that she had forced Myungsoo to buy. "I'll even make it for you if you want!"

Myungsoo's face scrunches again. Last time, she had--

"It's not going to happen again!" she pouts at Myungsoo's indication. "It's only been a few months, not two years! The other time was a mistake!"

A few seconds later, her lips curve and her eyes disappear into her smile. A smile with two dimples and exaggerates her already slightly chubby cheeks.

He groans. "Fine."



#


01 SPRING
Winter's now spring. Wasn't he supposed to take her out today? But it was still all too windy for anyone to be taking leisurely strolls. Myungsoo knows that, especially when his nose is bitten red, and the cruel winds keep whipping onto the tips of his ears.

But, despite that, he stands there: overlooking the view, hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans and his back straight. Him, slightly leaning over the railing and his arms folded for support, just staring at the Han River, with its dull colour and the city landscape hardly reflected on the water's surface. The same white skies, not blue, not grey. Just a misty, fog white.



#



05 WINTER
Myungsoo finds it necessary to watch her study piano, for some reason. Well, actually, there was a particular reason: the tall man (Mr. Kim, was it?), the one always hovering around her, hovering a bit too close compared to standard proximity. Or at least Myungsoo thinks so.

Of all the piano tutors they had gone through, he seemed to be the only one who was willing to cooperate with her 'special needs'. The doctors called it agoraphobia, others called it a freak disease, her parents called it a condition, he called it her needing him. Three panic attacks since this new teacher. And thank god-- Myungsoo hates finding new teachers.

The instructor keeps complimenting Suzy's skill as if she's a kindergartener. Suzy replies with a weak smile in response. Him, grinning like an idiot, repeats his 'good job's over and over, and Myungsoo can't help but muse of what a pathetic 'man' this guy was.

Myungsoo, in the midst of Suzy's piano teacher's jittery little episode, just sips his surprisingly okay tea (surprising because Suzy's first attempts to boil the kettle led to two burns, both on his hands) out on the balcony, breathing in the bitter air and observing the human society below him, not wanting to bother what was going on inside. He just sits quietly, with his legs crossed, one of Suzy's vintage books in one hand, the other holding his tiny china teacup, one pinky out. God this guy was annoying.



#



07 SPRING
He sits down at one of the empty chairs the cafe has left, and stares at the rush of people grabbing a cup of coffee, groaning at the line, and zipping off to work as soon as their caffeine is in their impatient hands.

Myungsoo's eyelids threaten to shut right then and there, them wavering slightly closed, and his mind goes blank for a second before he jolts back into his chair, his back awkwardly straight and neck snapped back into place.

He's not used to the new schedule: work, go home, sleep, work. He hates it. Sitting behind a computer screen, filing names into folders --- why were the only stable jobs such boring ones? Staple, sign, staple, file, staple, turn in.

Now that Suzy's parents are no longer paying for the rent, his past few days have been full of the same activities. Stapling and signing and stapling once again. Myungsoo unconsciously frowns. At least he was lucky that his father-in-law had 'hooked him up' with a job. If he could still call him his father-in-law.

He notices a teenage girl across the room. A teenage girl, giving him 'googly' eyes. A teenage girl, in fact, was hitting on a 25 year old. A teenage girl, in fact, with obviously dyed hair, black roots appearing in the platinum blonde, a chubby face, and a bit too much blush. Or that could actually be her blushing; Myungsoo can't tell with all the caked concealer she had applied on her face.

And all he wants right now is for him to be laying in their bed, with their white sheets covering half his face, and for Suzy to be poking his cheeks and energetically calling him awake, then giving up and laying right next to him and wrapping her arms around his chest.



#



09 WINTER
He shoves the stupid teacher out of the way.

"Suzy, Suzy." he grabs a hold of her forearm first, and he feels his ears fill with the sound of Suzy's deafening shrieks. "Suzy!"

"Suzy, let's calm down now, alright?" Mr. Kim tries to approach her, and she's flinging the composition papers, and--

"Will you move out of the ing way?!" Myungsoo elbows Mr. Kim's chest and he clumsily stumbles backwards. She's still screaming, her pale face now blushing red. All of her precious trinkets shattering against the walls, the piano keys being smashed down, echoing the room with a dramatic blur of noises, and the piano bench scratching the wooden floor as Suzy's flips it over with one kick.

Mr. Kim cautiously paces backwards until his back lightly presses against the brick walls, and he's mutters a silent 'dear god'.

Myungsoo holds onto her arm for his dear life, murmuring her name over and over and over and over again, and she's still screaming into the air. He blindly tries to reach her other arm and make her look him in the eyes, but she's just so fargone. Her body isn't numb, it's all painful, it all aches, and it's not her fault, it's not his fault, it just hurts, and Myungsoo can't help but think about the doctor's words, repeating several times as if he hasn't heard it enough 'she'll be in a lot of pain, it'll hurt a lot, but you have to try and calm her down'.

"Suzy," he's still calling for her, lost Suzy; and he lets go of her, her slipping away from his grip. She quickly darts away from him, and he watches in the flurry of things falling from their proper places and shelves, he watches her run in circles. She's reaching for the top shelf of the bookcase now, and he has to stop her from knocking over their most precious items onto the floor. So he grabs one shoulder and embraces her from behind, her arms locked to her sides, and she's delirious-- but he keeps mumbling, mumbling the same name: "Suzy."

He clings onto her as if it was the last time, still whispering 'Suzy', his 'Suzy', and he feels her panting in exhaustion, she's just so tired of randomly hurting. Her tears don't stop falling, little strands of hair cling onto her cheeks, her biting her bruised and bleeding lips to shush herself for screaming for any longer.

And they stay like that for five more minutes, Suzy letting him know how much her body aches every few seconds in various sentences, and Myungsoo quietly responding 'I know, I know, I'm sorry'.



#



11 SPRING
"How are you, Myungsoo?" Mrs. Bae would timidly inquire over the reciever.

"Just fine, Mrs. Bae."



#



13 WINTER
"Myungsoo?" she chirps from inside, and he looks behind him to see a small fraction of Suzy, hiding behind the curtain.

"Hey," he shuts Suzy's old book, and adjusts himself so he can clearly see small-fraction Suzy. "What's up? Why are you standing out here?"

"Can... Can I-" she slowly appears from behind the curtain, the cloth inching away with every syllable. "Can I sit with you out there?"

Myungsoo looks around the balcony. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah..." Suzy approaching Myungsoo carefully, one step for one second. He laughs and holds out his hand and she grabs for it as if she was going to die without his help. He quickly pulls her onto his lap, and she cheekily smiles. He wraps one arm around her waist, the other still holding the book.

"Why did you want to come out here all of the sudden?" he holds her a little bit tighter now.

"I think... I should come out here more often, that's all." she explains with a tiny pout, and he grins.

"You aren't scared?" he puts the book onto the small table next to his tea, and places his chin on her shoulder. She shakes her head 'no'. "Are we going to sit like this each time you decide to come out here?" She nods.

He pulls her in just a bit closer and she allows herself to lean back onto Myungsoo's chest. She shifts a little, and Myungsoo holds her with both of his arms, just in case. They have a tiny whisper-chat before Suzy hears a car-horn and she jumps a little, and Myungsoo clutches her a little bit tighter. Him, smiling like an idiot; like Mr. Kim-idiot.



#



12 SPRING
"Myungsoo?" Mrs. Bae calls again. "How are you?"

"Just fine, Mrs. Bae."



#



17 WINTER
"It's quite cold out here," Suzy quietly tells him, in the position as the previous day where her head is on his shoulder, fitting in the crook of his neck, her back on Myungsoo's chest as he read that old book aloud to her. "Aren't you?"

"I'm fine," he answers. "You're cold because you're wearing a dress."

"I thought I wouldn't come out here again." she explains drowsily. It was the fourth day she was sitting out there on the balcony with him. She still wasn't comfortable enough to sit on her own, but at least she was out there. Doctors called this getting over her fears, told him it was a good sign, and she was recovering. 'It won't be long now until she can go walking outside.'

"Sweater?" he breathes, and the cold puff of air escapes from his mouth. She nods, grabs Myungsoo's hand, and gets up. He walks her in and waits patiently on their bed as she clumsily and tiredly looks through drawers for a proper sweater. "Are you tired?"

"Just a bit," she responds. She looks back at him, and he's comforably situated in between the bed sheets, and motions for her to crawl in. And she does so. He wraps his arms around his petite body, and inhales her flower-like scent. "Are we not going outside anymore?"

"Too cold. This is better, isn't it?" he mutters with his eyes closed. He peeks through one eye, to see her gratiously giving him a weak smile. "If you're tired, you should've told me."

"You know, your tea's going to get cold out there. If you're not going to finish it, you should tell me, so I won't have to make it for you anymore," she teases. "I like it out there so far though."

"Hm? Really? We should go out there more often then," he whispers. "And if you made the tea, why do I have the burn marks?"

They fall asleep like that, with their 'witty' banter and sheepish smiles.



#



14 SPRING
Myungsoo wakes up to the dull morning and a grand headache. He feels the morning's breeze blowing into the apartment, and he realizes his mistake of leaving the balcony door open overnight.

He groans, and flops back onto the bed. He'll call in sick.

He falls asleep alike that, with the chilly winds and the grave headache.



#



21 WINTER
"Myungsoo," she calls for him. He looks beside him, to Suzy, in her own chair now. "Promise me on the first day of Spring, you'll take me to the Han River."

"Why the first day of Spring?" he pauses for a moment. "The Han River's not as pretty as they show on television."

"You know, that whole idea of turning a new leaf and blossoming and those things," Suzy replies. "It's fine. For some reason you still seem to like walking over there anyway."

"Fine," he shuts his book closed and sips his tea. The first cup of tea that Suzy managed to make all by herself. "First day of Spring it is."

And they do the little pinky promise ordeal and he resumes reading the story aloud to Suzy.



-



19 SPRING
Today's a good day to get rid of everything. Get rid of Suzy's . Get rid of all the that came with Suzy. Specifically the fifty seven messages her mother left on the telephone. Each and every one of the fifty seven completely useless, all asking how was he doing and for him to call here back.

Does she not pick up on the hint that he was ignoring her?

Before, when he was still with Suzy, the only form of communication that occurred between them was through the bank, when Myungsoo would check if his in-laws had paid for their rent or not. Other than that, they lived a relatively fine life without them.

Beep.
Fifty eight.



#


23 WINTER
"Suzy?" he calls for her when he returns from his daily attendances, since Suzy had insisted he do so after he gave her a mini-heart attack a few weeks ago. The silence welcomes him home, but Suzy doesn't. "Suuuzy?"

He continues strolling into the apartment, slides his shoes off and kicks them onto the standard pile, and hangs his scarf on the arm of the couch. He places a few music books back into their proper shelf. Pushes the piano bench back in. And softly laughs aloud when he sees the title of her newest composition: 'Third'. He could never translate the musical notes into a melody or such in his imagination. He'd have to ask what each title meant to the piece; there were quite a few weird ones, such as 'Small Kitchen'. He laughs again at the thought of the ridiculous title as he did make his way to their small kitchen.

However, seeing Suzy with one of the kitchen's knives driven into her chest wasn't as laugh-ensuing. Seeing Suzy on the floor, blood dried under her fingernails and bruises and scabs from scratching herself weren't either, nor was seeing Suzy choking on tears as she was bleeding to death, in the middle of the kitchen floor, with a stain of black blood surrounding her feeble body.

Myungsoo can't find it in himself to laugh. He can't find it in himself to scream into the air like others might have done. He can't find it in himself to go to the telephone and dial for help, because... it-- oh god it's all just so funny now isn't it?

He manages to somehow sit beside his dying lover, musters up a smile amidst the tears that were continuously streaming down his cheeks. A few drops would hang off his chin and fall to the floor, blending in with the blood. The blood's frightening, a deep red that's so frightening that Myungsoo could've sworn he saw black instead.

He holds that girl's hand, the one dying, the one that always complained about her predicament, the one who always caused catastrophe, the one who played piano as if Heaven and Hell didn't matter, the one who read boring, poetic, ancient books with him, the one who was just getting better, the one he thought would never do this, that girl--

"You know..." he clenches her hand with as much strength he could manage at the moment, and she winces; but it doesn't matter, because: "I hate you so much."

And then Myungsoo wakes up.



#



22 SPRING
He wants all the white dresses to be gone.

So he sits in one of their armchairs, well, his armchairs, and reads one of Suzy's old books.

He doesn't mind the smell as each and every one of Suzy's dresses burns in the fireplace.



#


25 WINTER
Myungsoo's too afraid to go out. Not to the store, not to the river, not to the coffee shop, not even to the bank to see if the rent's been fulfilled for this month. He'll trust that his mother-in-law has already done so.

"Myungsoo... Are you alright?" she would whisper when he rejects her offer to read outside. He doesn't stir afterwards, and Suzy calmly crawls into the empty space beside him.

Once he wakes, it takes Myungsoo two seconds to register panic into his brain, and abruptly sends the white bedsheets flying across the room. He takes a few more seconds to convince himself that this wasn't a dream, and he allows himself to believe that for the most part.

"Suzy?" he mutters under his breath. "Suzy?" A little louder now.

He tries to keep his calm intact, because only God knows how he presumes the wrong things, which lead him to trouble. His surmises aren't exactly pure. That in mind, he holds in his panic, shuts the growing fear down, and shoves his thinking down his throat. But--

But they all come spilling out when he finds Suzy, crouching in the corner of their bathroom, hiding behind the bathtub's crème satin curtains, with a mascara-streaked face and dissheveled hair and-- oh my god, Suzy you did not--

"I'm sorry," she stammers in the midst of choking on air and smearing blood on her black-stained cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Myungsoo, I'm so sorry, please, forgive me, please, Myungsoo, please--"

"Suzy, you--" he wanted to grab her arms and throw her against the wall, he wanted to hear a satisfying crack of her skull, he wanted her to bleed to death right then and there, but-- instead, he held her, praying and pleading every other god out there to not take her from him, clutching her head against his chest, strands of her hair sticking to his face, blood's aroma filling his scent, and she keeps apologizing over and over again. "Suzy, you damn idiot!" 

He turns and snatches the closest towel, cloth, whatever the hell it was, all the meanwhile practically shoving Suzy away from him, and sloppily wraps the fabric around her left wrist with his utmost force, her hands writhing as he does so. He reaches for another towel, but only finds nothing. He snatches her other wrist, cursing as he tries to stop the blood from dripping onto the tile floor. 

He wrings it, suffocating the wounds, and the blood's staining his hands now, and he's still cursing in between gasps for air, because he's sobbing, he's pleading for her not to join the other side, and dear god there's just so much blood and-- he lets his grip go and frantically and pathetically tries to rip his shirt for a sliver of cloth, but he can't, and his fingers are fumbling and staining his shirt, and instead shreds a piece from Suzy's white dress, still white and pure despite the amount of blood Suzy was losing. Suzy watches as Myungsoo does what he's doing, and she sits there, still and statuesque, trying to catch her breath, because she really is so, so, so sorry. 

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, please believe me," she begs, and once he's done knotting the thin fabric around her right wrist, his arms wrap around her shoulders. "I'm so-"

"Why would you do this, huh? Why?!" he incoherently spatters out, and he knows it's too late for an ambulance, so all he has left is to ask why-- "Why?! Tell me, you damn-- I can't-- Why?!"

And he continues to hold her, and their lungs burn from coughing and the lack of oxygen, and the blood's drying on both of their faces, floor, and god knows what else. The silence is unnerving, although it wasn't silent at all, the air was surrounded with sounds of Myungsoo's childish tantrum.

"Why are you doing this again?!" 

"Again...?" she repeats, puzzled.



And then Myungsoo wakes up.

#



23 SPRING
He wants to burn her piano too. He wants to shove it off of the balcony. He wants the piano gone.

He seats himself into his armchair, once again, and stares at it.

He'll leave it there. Maybe only for today, maybe only for tomorrow. 

Maybe only until the next winter comes. 



#



26 WINTER
"What are you doing?!" she wrestles with his arm as he throws each white dress she owned into the fireplace, him frantically tearing them off of their hangers and he jerks his arm to his left in hopes of flinging her off of him. "W-w-why?!" she stutters.

He turns to face her, his voice low and he gravely whispers: "Shut up and listen to me." He turns back around, reaches for the last one, and puts it in the fire along with the others. Suzy slightly whimpers as she watches the last remains of her dresses are engulfed, each disappearing into nothing. 

She punches him in the back, infuriating Myungsoo; he raises his hand, unintentionally threatening. They pause for a moment, Suzy, bewildered at his indication. 

"Suzy-" 

"Go ahead and hit me then!" she grabs him by the collar and shakes him to and fro. "Go ahead! Do it!"

"Suzy!" he barks, and she slaps him instead.

"I'm sorry-" Suzy places one cold hand on the bruising area, and he knocks it away. "Myungsoo, I'm so sorry-"

He leaves. Because he can't tell her about the dreams; he can't tell her about his fears-- it'd rewind all of the progress. 'Progress'. He scoffs at the word.



#



30 SPRING
It's been a month since spring had begun. Thirty days overdue of the day he was supposed to take her out. But it was still all too windy for anyone to be taking leisurely strolls. Myungsoo knows that, especially when his nose is bitten red, and the cruel winds keep whipping onto the tips of his ears.

But, despite that, he stands there: overlooking the view, hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans and his back straight. Him, slightly leaning over the railing and his arms folded for support, just staring at the Han River, with its dull colour and the city landscape hardly reflected on the water's surface. The same white skies, not blue, not grey. Just a misty, fog white. The same, misty, fog white as the first day of spring.



#



30 WINTER
Myungsoo comes back from his morning stroll around the banks of the murky Han River, with two new white dresses in hand. He had irrationally acted as a spoiled child would have- he understood that after a few moments of pondering. Since the burning of Suzy's clothing, Myungsoo had been restocking the empty wardrobe, much to Suzy's delight. The past evenings were spent per usual, resuming the ordinary schedule, even reading outside on the balcony once again. Perhaps it was the old that bothered him. The new wasn't as terrifying.

"Suzy," he pauses for a good thirty seconds before calling out to her again. "Suzy, I'm back."

He frowns, and the silence welcomes him home again. He slides his shoes off with a quicker pace, and rounds the couch for the kitchen. He shuffles past the bathroom. 

He hesitates for a moment. But he shoves the pretentious inference back in the folds of his mind.

But they come out again.

Suzy.

Sitting on the metal railing, wearing the white laced dress he had just bought her, her dark brown hair floating with the winter's bitter winds, the cold biting her pale skin. The clouds weren't grey, the sky wasn't blue: just a foggy, mist white. And she was sitting there, a light blush on her cheeks from the freezing air. No. Too similar.

"Suzy!" he couldn't think, think, think, think, her name, call her name-- "Suzy, please!"

A dark shadow was cast on the floor. She shifts her head slightly.

"Suzy, please! Please, please don't--" think, you damned idiot, grab her, what the hell is standing there going to do? "Suzy!"

She was shaking, her shadow appeared to be mocking him, but he knew that she was scared, too scared-- too scared of what the world might do, too scared of what the world has done.

"Suzy, I know! I know it hurts a lot right now, but we promised that we'd get through this!" he shouts over the gusts. "It only hurts right now! Only right now!"

It's been weeks since her last panic attack, why now-- he inches towards her, forcing his voice to appear calm, but inside, his mind was being ed with, he didn't want this, stop playing games, he just didn't want this, why is this happening all of a sudden, stop ing with me--

"Suzy!"

And it was all too quick. All too cruel. A blur, and the shadow wasn't there anymore. A blur, and Myungsoo was half-hanging off the railing, frantically calling her name with incoherent screams. Anarchical babbling, formless words, and even though his physical being was detached, he knows what happened, what just happened, what happened in between all this jumbled mess, this frantic disarray; she was gonegonegone

Suzyyoucruelstoppretendingwithmedon'taroundlikethisSUZY--whatthehelliswrongwithyou--youdamnedidiotgettothephoneyoucansaveher--it'stoolate--shutupandgettothephone--callforhelpitdoesn'tmatterifit'stoolate--ican'tsavehernow--suzygoddammitstopingaround

Myungsoo just wants to wake up. He's waiting to wake up, he's depending on the fact he'd be waking up soon, and all of this would be fine, and Suzy would still be there in the morning, beautiful, beautiful, perfect Suzy, smiling right there, he'd wake up with half of their white sheets on his face, and Suzy would be energetically trying to wake him up, and she would be poking his cheek and she'd give up and lay right down next to him, and wrap her arms around his chest, and they'd be completely fine, living in their world just like that, all spring and all winter, and he just needs to wake up right now---






But he doesn't.