A Hint of Envy
The Color of Love
05. Green
The two boys sat on the bus, Jongin staring mindlessly out the window with a headphone nestled in his ear while Kyungsoo, with his hands gently folded on his lap, was fiddling with his thumbs. It was Friday after school, two days after the incident in the dance room. Jongin grabbed the unused side of the headphone and gently placed it in Kyungsoo’s ear. The smaller looked over to Jongin with wide, curious eyes and soft blushing cheeks. Jongin looked away quickly, only to catch Kyungsoo’s innocent smile in the bus's window reflection. Something warm ignited in his chest every time he saw that smile, and he didn’t like it at all. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his usual straight face around him.
The boys rode the bus all the way to the last stop, to the opposite side of Seoul where they were from. They were the only two to get off and be left in front of a giant staircase. Jongin looked questioningly at Kyungsoo, who just smiled and started to walk towards the stairs. Jongin shrugged and followed the small boy up the stairs. The cool fresh spring air rustled through their hair as they climbed the long stone stairs in a comfortable silence. Once the boys reached the top, Jongin immediately became breathless. They were in front of a vast, beautiful field that was in the heart of blooming. A lone temple could be spotted off in the far distance, accompanied with what looked to be a lotus pond. The field colored in every color imaginable, even colors Jongin wouldn’t have thought even existed.
Jongin watched Kyungsoo delicately pick a bunch of small vibrant blue flowers with bright yellow centers, plop down on the ground and smile affectionately at the bunch in his hands. Jongin sat next to him and watched the smaller boy in hidden amusement.
"You look the happiest when you're looking at flowers."
Kyungsoo looked down at his hands that were cradling his favorite flower. The small blue flowers forever vibrant, even on the grayest of days. "My mother was a botanist. I used to hear her sing to the flowers every morning when I woke up for school. It was only natural that I joined her and started to love flowers. These are my favorite."
"What are they called?"
"Their commonly known as Forget-Me-Not's. It's kind of obvious why I like them, huh?" Jongin looked at Kyungsoo's smile, figuring it was the saddest smile he'd ever seen the smaller wear. "Their beautiful." Jongin reached to take one in his hand then nestled it behind Kyungsoo's ear. The blue even more mesmerizing compared next to Kyungsoo's dark hair and pale skin.
"Jong-"
The small boy was interrupted by a loud ringing from his pocket. Smiling apologetically, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his small white cell phone. Jongin noticed the contact, big and in bold letters. It was Park Chanyeol. Jongin's mood instantly turned sour as he turned away and bit his inner cheek. Bothered not only with the fact that their mood had been ruined, but with the fact that the tall, annoying, red head had Kyungsoo's contact and he did not. "Why is he calling you?" That strange feeling Jongin had felt when he saw Chanyeol with Kyungsoo in the gym was returning.
"I'm not sure. We've already met up twice this week."
Twice this week?
Jongin felt his stomach sink as a million questions filled his head. Why were they meeting? Why did Chanyeol have Kyungsoo's number? Did Chanyeol like Kyungsoo? Did Kyungsoo like him back? He turned away from Kyungsoo with a sour face and chose to keep the rest of his questions to himself. Kyungsoo felt the drastic shift in Jongin's mood. "Jongin-ah, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
The cold reply sent a chill down Kyungsoo’s spine. He now knew something was unquestionably bothering Jongin. "Jongin-ah, please? You can tell me." Kyungsoo reached out to touch Jongin's trembling shoulder. Instead of an answer, he was rewarded with silence. "Jongin-ah..." Kyungsoo wrapped his fingers around Jongin’s hand and rested his head on Jongin's shoulder, listening to his dull breathing.
"Am I not good enough for you?"
"What do you mean?"
Kyungsoo’s head lifted and his wide eyes watched Jongin’s face carefully. He soon realized that cold and distant Kai was gone. This was weak and insecure Jongin sitting beside him now. "What does that Park Chanyeol have that I don’t?"
"Jongin-ah, what are you talking about?" Kyungsoo looked up into Jongin's eyes. He saw a different kind of hurt in them. "I was only gone for a couple of days. Was I that easy to forget about?" Jongin could no longer meet Kyungsoo's imploring eyes. "Chanyeol-ah is just my sunbae. He's nice to me because I don't have any friends in my gym class." Jongin scowled slightly. If Chanyeol is just your sunbae, why are you meeting up outside of school? Why does he have your number? Why do you smile so brightly when you’re around him? Kyungsoo’s soft hands cupped Jongin's cheeks. "Jongin-ah, look at me." Their eyes met once again. "I'm not going to leave you or hurt you. I promise."
"You promise?"
Promise?
"Yeah..." Before Kyungsoo could say anything more, his phone rang. The number that showed up nearly made his heart stop beating. "I-I have to go. Now." Kyungsoo moved away from Jongin, but before he could leave, Jongin reached out and grabbed his forearm roughly. "Is that Chanyeol?" The venom in Jongin's voice was enough to send shivers down Kyungsoo's spine. "J-Jongin-ah, you're hurting me." The fear that flashed across Kyungsoo's eyes was enough to make Jongin let go immediately. He instantly was hit with disgust. He was ashamed that he couldn’t keep his own emotions in check. "Where are you going?"
"I-I have to go home. I'm sorry." Jongin watched the small blue flower fall from behind Kyungsoo’s hair as he ran away and an uneasy, suffocating feeling clenched his chest.
As Kyungsoo ran home, he thought about the darkness that he had saw in Jongin's eyes. Just the thought had him scared a bit, but there were worse matters at hand. He had to deal with one of his worst nightmares, his father’s drunken wrath. As Kyungsoo slowly approached the front door of his house, his small body started to tremble. He didn't want to go inside. He wanted to hang out in the garden with Jongin, where he was safe. Where he was happy. Kyungsoo stood at the front door for a few seconds before pulling out his keys. He knew his dad would be waiting for him. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sickening smell of alcohol. Kyungsoo shut the door as quietly as he could and tiptoed into the house after taking his shoes off. He prayed that he could make it to his bedroom before his dad could get him.
No such luck.
"Kyungsoo… You're late." His dad was in the living room. He stood at more than six feet tall, his eyes an intimidating bloodshot red and his expression was less than pleased. A thick leather belt held tightly in his grasp. “Come here.” Kyungsoo stayed glued to his spot, terrified. "Come here!" His voice boomed and bounced off the walls of the small house as his father quickly lost patience. Kyungsoo quickly scurried over to his father only to be grabbed roughly by the scruff of his neck. “Where were you?”
“School.”
“Don’t lie to your father, you ungrateful little !” Kyungsoo was grabbed by the hair and thrown to the hard ground. "You're ing di-disgusting! E-expect to be taught some discipline f-for your disrespectful and un-grateful actions!" His father repeatedly slammed the belt’s metal buckle against Kyungsoo’s small back until Kyungsoo was shaking and crying uncontrollably. The punishment had went on for at least twenty minutes, probably more, Kyungsoo had lost count for what seemed like ages ago. Once his father had stopped and left the house to do god knows what, Kyungsoo just remained there on the floor. Too hurt to move, too hurt to even curl into a proper ball on the floor. Everything hurt. His back, arms, head, eyes and his heart. He tried so hard to be good. He sometimes didn’t understand why he received this kind of punishment. A slap on the wrist was a fair enough warning in his eyes.
After for who knows how long, Kyungsoo found the strength to drag himself up off the floor and carry himself to his room. He discarded his shirt with my back towards the full length mirror, afraid of the new bruises and ashamed of the old scars. He shed the rest of his clothes carefully and changed into loose fitting pants and a shirt, then crawled into bed where he pressed his face deep into the pillow, hoping the soft material would dry his moist eyes.
He cried himself to sleep, with an iron strong grip on his pillow and a few soft breaths of a certain boy's name on his lips.
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