You finally decide to clean up the pieces after two and a half hours of uninterrupted sitting and staring. Jonghyun will be home any minute, and you didn't want to the remains of his pride and joy to welcome him in a way that would destroy him. As soon as you tie up the trashbag, you hear the door start to unlock. 

It's now or never, you utter to yourself.

"Hello? Are you home?"

Your heart begins to pound. You want to escape, but at the same time you also want to get it over with.

"Baby, are you there?"

I don't deserve to be your baby, you think.

"Yes," you numbly call out. "I'm in the kitchen."

Jonghyun happily trots from the living room, hoping to find peace in your arms after a long and stressful day. However, he stops in his tracks the moment he reads the expression on your face.

"Is... everything okay?" he asks from the doorway.

You avoid his gaze and simply shake your head.

"What's the matter?"

You dimly make your way to him. He was just across the room, but you elongate your walk as if it could make time move slower.

He eyes the bundle in your hands. "What's in the bag?"

Remaining silent, you slowly open it to reveal his worst nightmare.

His face turns ghostly pale as he says, "I think I'm going to faint." 

He thought correctly.

--

"Jonghyun?" you say as you shake him. "Jonghyun, please wake up! I'm so sorry."

No reaction.

"Jonghyun!"

You notice his chest is moving up and down. "Thankfully he's still breathing," you silently tell yourself.

Clueless about what your next move should be, you decide to give him CPR although he doesn't need it. You wrap your lips around his and puff. 

Nothing.

"Jonghyun, please," you plead.

You then notice a slight smile form on his lips, but it vanishes in less than a second.

"Huh? Jonghyun, are you awake?"

He remains still.

Did I imagine that?

You bring your lips to his again and breathe, and this time you get a response- but it's one that you'd never expect. 

Jonghyun begins to kiss you, his movements soft and sweet. You're at a nonplus. You didn't think this would happen, but you didn't mind it either. He slowly pulls away and observes you. He locks a stray hair behind your ear and gently your face.

"I don't understand. Are you mad at me?" you ask as you sit back up.

"I'm filled with rage," he calmly exhales.

"But--"

"Rage towards myself. I really should clean up after myself."

Now you're confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know it was an accident. And I know I left something lying around this morning. I was in such a rush before I left. I was trying to find my lucky pick and just threw everything from inside the closet. When I was cleaning up, I noticed I left my shoe near my guitar but I didn't have time to put it back."

This was definitely not what you were anticipating.

"How did you know I tripped over your shoe?"

"I'm messy and you're clumsy. We're a pretty deadly combo." He winks at you.

You're too bewildered to take offense at his unnecessary but truthful statement.

"Wait, what's so special about this particular pick?"

He lightly chuckles and yanks you back down with him. He brings his arm around your shoulders as you rest your head on his chest. With his other hand, he fishes through his pockets until he finds a small piece of plastic.

"Ta-da!" he proudly announces as he waves it in the air.

Your heart begins to jump as soon as you see it.