Sungjong pressed the bell again, harder this time, although he knew that it didn’t exactly help. As before, there was no response. He could hear the shrill sound on the other side of the door but there was no answering click. Checking his wristwatch, he huffed. He retrieved his cellphone from his jacket pocket and checked the text again, lest he had misread it the first time:

From: Kim Myungsoo

U can pick up the rest of ur stuffs @ 7pm, ill be home.

Sungjong sighed. He couldn’t have misread it, after all it had been his staple read ever since he had received it.

It was a quarter past 7 and Sungjong had been waiting for the last 15 minutes in front of the apartment door, ringing the bell continuously and meeting with no answer. He shook his head and looked down. The worn out mat beneath his feet almost blended in with the gray floor; it was dirtier than he had last seen it.

“Oh I think I left the key inside the apartment.” Myungsoo slapped his jeans again, looking bewildered.

“Great,” Sungjong muttered under his breath.

“I’m so sorry, it’s the first day you’re visiting me at my apartment and I – oh but I have a spare key.” Myungsoo flashed him a smile and stooped down. Removing the mat, he picked out the key while Sungjong watched with wide eyes.

“You leave your spare key just like that?”

“Er…yeah, no one knows. But now you do, and well I don’t have much to get stolen…”

“Do I look like a thief?”

“No of course not! I just meant...well, if you move in you can have it – I mean -” Myungsoo shook his head fervently as Sungjong raised an eyebrow. “I mean I know this too early, this is just our 5^th date, I’m sorry – it’s just I can see us living together I mean – I’m sorry, just come in…”

Sighing, Sungjong inserted the key into the lock. He had thought Myungsoo would have probably thrown the spare key away or put it in a different place after he had returned it to him. But it was a good thing it was still there or else he’d have to wait for who knew how long. Myungsoo had probably forgotten all about the appointment.

As he pushed the door inwards, a musty smell hit his nose. He batted away some dust from in front of his face, coughing slightly as he took in the dusty air. There was no telling how long the apartment hadn’t been cleaned. He switched on the light – dust had gathered on the switch. Cobwebs hung snugly from the ceiling. Leaving his shoe beside the door, he strode forward, towards the living room. It was utter chaos – clothes were strewn all over the place, paper, packets and thousands of other things littered the room.

Sungjong groaned.

Uttering a quick prayer underneath his breath, he started to pick up the stray items. He systematically separated all of his things and the trash. He didn’t know how long it had been until he checked his watch. It was 7.45 already and still there was no sign of Myungsoo. He had reached the last stray item - a yellow wet towel on the sofa. Sungjong moaned in frustration as he picked it up.

“Ok listen, now that we’re staying together, we need to lay down some ground rules. No sharing towels, do not use my towel, please.” Sungjong had his hands on his hips. He was glaring at Myungsoo, who was holding up a wet towel. Myungsoo only laughed. “I’m serious.”

“You can sleep with me but you can’t use my towel?” Sungjong continued to stare at him with stern eyes. He didn’t look amused at all.  “Okay, okay, sorry. I won’t do it again.”

The next day, while Myungsoo was hurriedly shoving down his breakfast, Sungjong came to stand in front of him, dangling a wet towel in front of his face.

“You used my towel again.”

“I’m sorry,” Myungsoo said with his mouth full. “I was in a hurry.”

Sungjong dropped the towel and shut the door to their bedroom with a slam.  Sungjong didn’t go to work that day and he only emerged from his room when Myungsoo came back in the evening to prepare dinner. He was busy in the kitchen when he found a shopping bag on the table. It said, ‘Sorry’ with a smiley face and inside was a fluffy lemon yellow towel, family size.

Sungjong put the towel in the bathroom, hanging it neatly from a rack. It was essentially his, but he didn’t want to take it. There was no telling how many times Myungsoo had used it. Instead, he arranged the toiletries and the first aid materials in the cupboard.

His next destination was the bookshelf in the study. Here he knew his job would be easier since most of the books were his. Myungsoo never had any use for books and he had bought the shelf solely for Sungjong’s books.

He started to pack the books in a case, heavy dust rising from them. He held his breath as he shoved the books into the box – he’d have to dust them later. Sungjong was almost done when the last book toppled out of the shelf and hit the floor with a dull thud. He collected it from the ground and blew the dust off the top. He read the name by the light of the table lamp.

“How To Have Good ?” Sungjong raised his eyebrows until they disappeared in his bangs. “Are you trying to tell me something Myungsoo?”

Myungsoo looked confused.

“I – just – Happy Valentine’s Day?”

Sungjong exhaled slowly. “Look, if you’re not happy with our life -”

Myungsoo started to wave his arms wildly. “No it’s not that, it’s just – Woohyun said it’d be a good idea. He said you’d like it!”

Sungjong threw the book to one corner of the bookshelf. “You read it, see if you can pick up a few tips. God knows you need some.”

Sighing, Sungjong replaced the book on the shelf. He closed the lid of the case and dusted his hands on the back of his jeans. He dragged the box into the living room and made his way towards the kitchen. A quick scan of the racks showed that most of the utensils had remained unused. There was a stack of plates, bowls and spoons in the sink. He could guess the story there – Myungsoo hadn’t bothered to wash up and had used a new dish every day. He wanted to tear out his hair for this but nevertheless he started washing the dishes. He hated untidy places – it irked him immensely to watch things displaced. His vision was a spick-and-span room, be it his house or his office. Or Myungsoo’s place.

When he had left the dishes to dry, he attacked the fridge. As expected, there were month-old milk and expired cans of soup, half-empty beer cans. With ferocity, Sungjong tossed the food items into the trash can. His back was aching by the time he stood up. He stretched slightly as he examined the small magnets attached with notes on the front of the fridge. Most of them were short but he found an unusually long one, stuck with a magnet shaped like a heart.

Sweetheart,

Can you please get some milk and cheese today when you go out? I have to make a surprise cake for your birthday. But I don’t think I’ll be able to pick them up since I’m working overtime today.

Thanks, luv.

Sungjong smiled at the note and replaced it back onto the fridge. When Myungsoo returned that evening, Sungjong threw his arms around his neck.

“I got the milk, but I didn’t get cheese, I thought butter would do better. In fact I made the surprise birthday cake to save you trouble.”

Myungsoo pouted. “But it was supposed to be a surprise…”

“It was the best surprise ever.” Sungjong leaned forward and linked his lips with Myungsoo’s.

Sungjong caressed the note fondly. He felt something like tears welling up inside him. He quickly tried to get away from the fridge when his feet struck something. Wiping the tears that were making their way down his face, Sungjong stooped low. He retrieved the box and was about to throw it into the trashcan when he recognized the familiar pattern. His hand slowed down and stopped. He brought the box closer to his eyes. It was a jewelry box, lined with soft blue velvet.

The brand name on the top was slightly faded. He slid it open gently – a blue sapphire gleamed in the light overhead. Using his thumb and forefinger, he raised the ring.

“It’s beautiful,” Sungjong gasped.

Myungsoo was kneeling down in front of him, his arms spread apart and a hopeful look blazing in his eyes. “Sungjong we’ve been living together for 6 months now and I’m sure I want to live the rest of my life with you. Will you be by my side forever?”

Sungjong had tears in his eyes.

“I will Myungsoo, I will.”

Sungjong couldn’t stand it – he gripped the box tightly in his hand and moved into the bedroom.

It had to be the messiest room out of all the others. A mound of blankets was on the bed. Clothes, worn and fresh, were scattered around the floor. The curtains were drawn and he could swear he had stepped on a half-eaten pizza. His skin crawled as he started to collect the deformed objects from the ground whose identity he didn’t want to know. He quickly gathered everything, filling up the wash basket and moved towards the bed. With deft hands, he folded the blankets and placed them on one side until his hand hit flesh. He screamed loudly but covered his mouth just in time to muffle the sound. Myungsoo was in the bed, hiding under the piles of blankets. One look at his red-rimmed, puffy eyes told him that he was hung-over. His chest rising and falling rhythmically also told him that he was alive.

“Still sleeps like a log,” Sungjong muttered, using a blanket to cover him again.

“You’re drunk again,” Sungjong intoned in a weary voice.

“So what?” Myungsoo slurred. “I’ll do whatever I want, you don’t own me. You – you changed me.” Sungjong could only stare, Myungsoo’s accusatory tone made him speechless. He gaped at him – he was swaying from side to side with bloodshot eyes that couldn’t find a focus.

“Myungsoo how could you -”

“Get out, get lost! I don’t care, just leave me alone. I’m tired of you, we’re done! Over!” Sungjong didn’t need any more convincing. He packed his suitcase and informed him that he was leaving for good. Myungsoo was probably too drunk to hear him but that was the last time Sungjong had seen him.

Myungsoo started stirring. He removed the blanket from over his head, stretched and groaned and finally opened his eyes. Sungjong quickly wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“Ah Sungjong – I – I’m hallucinating again.” Myungoo sat and started rubbing his eyes. Sungjong sighed.

“No you’re not hallucinating. You told me to come and get my things, remember?”

Myungsoo stopped and snapped his head up. He stared at Sungjong for a while.

“Why do you look exactly the same?” Sungjong, for the first time in two months, felt self-conscious. His fingers knotted in his hair – he didn’t remember if he had combed his hair today.

“I’m almost done I just need one more thing. I don’t see it around…” Myungsoo was still staring at Sungjong. He then reached out and grasped his wrist. Sungjong didn’t resist; he opened his palm to show him the blue box.

“This is yours, I believe,” he said stiffly. Myungsoo blinked twice before taking the box. He opened it and brought out the ring, and examined it as if he had seen it for the first time. Without warning, he slipped it onto Sungjong’s rings finger.

“Hey what are you -”

“It’s yours, take it. I don’t have anyone else for this.” Sungjong wanted to pull it off of his fingers and throw it away. But he couldn’t, instead he watched the blue sapphire sparkle on his finger.

“I – I want the picture, our first picture, the one we took together. I want it.” He didn’t add, “You don’t need it, but I want to spend the rest of my life treasuring it.”

He expected Myungsoo to comply instantly but instead he looked afraid. He slowly dragged out the photo from under his pillow. Sungjong reached out for it, almost greedily.

“But, that’s the only thing I’m living on.” Myungsoo had a pleading look in his eyes and when Sungjong met his glance, he shivered. He felt a trail of sweat beads running down his spine.

“You’re still the last thing on my mind at night.” Myungsoo rambled on but Sungjong could barely hear him. It was as if he was rediscovering Myungsoo as he person he fell in love with, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Everything he said was true; he felt it too.

“Instead of hurting separately, isn’t it better to hurt together?” Sungjong looked down at the sparkling stone. He couldn’t process any of it, or rather, he didn’t want to. It didn’t make sense trying to fix something in the past.

“You should move on.” He tried to make his tone sound as cold as possible. But Myungsoo’s face didn’t change.

“I want to move on, with you. Don’t tell me you’re happy by yourself. ” He wasn’t. Myungsoo had a point – if they were going to go through pain either ways, it was at least better to have each other for support, for love.  The rest –they’d get used to it.

“I want in,” Sungjong finally announced. Myungsoo’s smile was dazzling. Sungjong almost wanted to cover his eyes – the smile was painfully bright. He looked alive, no trace of drunkenness remained on his pale face. He patted the place next to him on the bed. For the first time in two months, Sungjong smiled a genuine smile.