Fall withered much like the dying leaves that managed to cling to their branches. The sky had grown dark, the sun becoming scarce. A cold wind began to blow, causing a deep set chill to settle in my chest. It settled in every corner of my empty apartment. The large double sinks sat with only one in use. Half the king bed again lay cold. Silence hung in the air like a heavy morning fog. Trees, it seemed, were not the only thing to die at fall’s end. Winter had come and I was alone again.

I would be lying if I were to say it wasn’t expected. It always was. But with every step that leads someone out of my life, I feel that same familiar chill tangle through my chest. He was not the first, nor the last person I had loved, but that familiar sting always only brought one face to mind. There is always that one person who seems to play ghost to your heart, and he was mine. Though I supposed it was self inflicted. When you spend your life living in the past, he was my past and present.

He was young, 18 and baby faced. First summer out of high school. I was 20 and jaded. Barely making it through my third year in college. It was a party at my house. School was over and we had every reason to celebrate. The drinks were strong and the music was loud.

Even in the sea of bodies he caught my eye. A bright blonde lithe creature agilely weaving through the mass of black. But I let it go, not yet having enough alcohol in my system to actually approach. I lost sight of him, so I was off to the kitchen for more liquid courage.

Fate is a absurd idea, but there he stood in front of me, and the now empty keg. I figured the opportunity wouldn’t present itself a third, so I dove in. I tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to follow, though I’m surprised he actually did. To the broom closet we went and into my stash I dug, filling our cups liberally with jack, I knew I would need it, and a little ginger ale.

He gave me that wry smile, which always caused my lips to follow suit, and introduced himself. Jiyong. His honey voice lingered in my ears until I felt his hand on my wrist. Dancing, he insisted. I was certainly not one to dance, but I had to see the way that body moved, and I certainly wasn’t going to pass it up.

It started slow, dips and sways to the beat with what felt like an ocean of space between us, but as the bass and the alcohol worked into our system the ocean turned to nothing but the beads of sweat on his neck. Gracefully hips swayed into my stiff ones as my lips chased the beads of sweat on the nape of his neck.

It wasn’t long before we stumbled our way into my room, legs tangled and lips connected. Hands desperately discarded clothes, aching for new skin to explore. The party still raged on around us, but we cared for little but for heady sighs and wanton moans, the slick heat of bodies tangled together. It was a singular needy passion, and I found myself drowning in it.

It was the first of many nights that summer we lied intertwined, and some night along the way the nights seemed not enough. Early mornings and lazy afternoons were spent with music, with laughs, talks what what has come and what might be. His silken laugh and delicate fingers opened my heart, and his warm smile and insightful words placed him there.

Before we realized we were tripping over summer’s end, which I should have realized meant our own. We laid in bed, limbs tangled for what would be the last time on the first real morning of fall. He was leaving for college that afternoon, he said, across the country. The weight of reality now fell on my chest, suffocating me. We had lived in our own small world for so long and it was now to be ripped apart. He had never mentioned school, but I’d be a fool to think he would waste his life in a town like this, and I was a fool to think there ever would have been more than those summer nights between us. 

Thousands of words ran through my head of the hundreds of things I could say to him, to let him know, for what even was a short time, he meant to me, but none ever found their way off my tongue. He crawled his way out of bed and little was past between us more than goodbye.

Fall seemed to disappear into winter and the memory of his warmth left me that much colder. I never heard from him again, but each day I waited left my heart to freeze. Even as I felt like freezing in place, the world kept turning. 

Life rolled on, classes came and went, graduation following soon after. The search for warmth lead me into beds and others into mine, but every cold night or chill in my bones left lingering traces of that boy.

I escaped the emptiness of my apartment, seeking refuge at my office, a shock to the other directors I’m sure. Work was surprisingly productive, my undesired muse having reared his head. I didn’t look up from my work until I heard the heavy door to my office open.

“Ah I’m glad you came in today Seunghyun,” Dongwook interrupted, smiling as a peace offering.

“And why might that be?” I turned back to my critique.

“The merger meeting’s in five. You should come.”

“Why would I go to a meeting that doesn’t effect me?” I hitched my eyebrow up.

“Because you want to keep me company.” He flashed his bright smile again and I rolled my eyes, but stood up none the less.

“Just don’t let me fall asleep.”

We made our way two floors up and down the left corridor to our conference room. Both sides of the table sat plenty of nameless faces in a sea of grey wool. I was just about to take my seat when I him. But fate was an absurd idea.