There was something about her falling asleep. He found it alluring, amusing. Her falling asleep was contradicting to all the contradictions in the world. It had been one month, four weeks, thirty-one days, and so many hours post her break-up. It had been a week since he received the key from her. He’d drop by her place and watch her fall asleep – a part of this new routine he slipped in-between his busy schedule. Silently, he took comfort and enjoyment on it.

She rarely fell asleep. On darker nights or brighter moon, he’d find her sitting by her windows gazing at nothingness. She’d try hard not to lose her consciousness. Sometimes, she’d forced herself awake, and he had come to understand her a little better. Those sleepless nights she spent in fear, those restless sleeps to be abruptly cut off by a nightmare, he didn’t know how she had lived. But there is only so much a body could take, and on longer nights, he’d found her asleep or dozed off. He’d lay her down on the bed and took the liberty of dominating her couch.

And today was one of those nights, where he came back from work, dropped by her place, and found her dozed off by her window. Her half-lidded eyes looked heavier than usual, adding darker shades to her bags. Careful steps, he lifted her and lay her down carefully. She was a light-sleeper, something he learnt throughout the nights she let him in. A sleepy blink, he wondered if she managed to catch a blurry him before going back to pure darkness.

He stood, hovered over her, as he watched her sleeping figure. A contradiction. She was so restless in her consciousness. So many to fear, so much to think, so much worry… so much, so full, so restless. Her sleeping figure, the peacefulness was amazing and alluring. She looked innocent. As if she was a naïve twenty-year-old without any burden, seeing the world through red-colored glasses, being oblivious to all the pain. He wondered if he’d been happier, she’d been happier. This peacefulness, however, was temporary.

Somewhere in her pure bliss of darkness, the succumbing tired body to this temporary peacefulness, her brain would suddenly snap. He’d watched this countless time before. The way her expression changed, contorted with pain. Her eyes moved so furiously beneath her closed eyelids and her body trashed from side to side. She’d be drifting in the rim between consciousness and sleep. And then, this temporary peacefulness would be abruptly stopped. She’d shot up, wide-awake, wild-looking, and frantic.

A cycle.

This was the part where he spent his night sleepless, wondering what he could do to help. And it was none. He couldn’t help. The more he tried, the more she hurt. So, he let her be. He let her screamed out, trashed around, eyes ever so wild and frantic. She’d look so lost, in the pure darkness she basked in. Then, she’d calm down, breathing slower, and fingers clutching her chest. One arm rested behind her – clenching and unclenching – supporting her body. And like a mantra, she’d chant: I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

This darkest part of her, he’d like to tame it.

It took her a full twenty-two minutes to fully calm down and breathe. He counted it: twenty-two minutes and fifteen seconds. Every second felt like hell: her high-pitched scream, her blurry gaze, her frantic looking eyes – so wild and lost. Once she stopped chanting her mantra, he’d approach her carefully. A single steps and he be doomed. She was so fragile, afraid and lost, the tiniest mistake and she’d crumble. And every night, he could hear her heart cracks.

She was a creature desperate for love. She wanted to be love. When his counts turned twenty-two minutes and thirty seconds, he’d laced her finger with his, and leaned her head on his chest. He’d pat her head and run his fingers through her brown locks. She’d look up, glance of horror and fear at him, sometimes flashes of anger and anxiety, but she’d wash it all away. She’d succumb to this temporary comfort. A motherly or fatherly love she’d longed for. He made her felt love and it was all she ever needed. He wasn’t a lover. He was a motherly-figure.

He was okay with it.

And along the path they both strode down together, him and her keeping each other at an arm’s length. A certain distance, not too close, and not too far. The distance placed for her comfort and his move. The perfect distance they both silently agreed to keep. The key, perhaps, was the certain distanced she’d like to keep forever. And yes, he’d wait. She was a broken creature, a creature longed for love.

Something in his head and his heart needed to be sort out. She always drove him to the edge. It was bad and sick, but exhilarating and fresh at the same time. Being driven to the edge by her had this certain feeling of euphoria, of happiness. Still, it was sick, bad, and inconsiderate. She had just broken up with the love of her life; she’d need more time to heal before she loves again. Yet, he stood there waiting for her – yes, he didn’t ask to be loved back but he wanted it. And also, he had doubted her love for that certain person more than once.

What drove her to that certain person – okay, to Kai – was it lust or love? He had repeated again and again in his head and his believe it was right, she was a creature to be loved and desperate. Perhaps, on the day where she was the most broken and fragile, Kai was there, so she decided to succumb to his temporary comfort, the way she succumbed to his. She needed to be loved and Kai made her feel loved. It could be she has mistaken her lust as love. She lust for his love and mistook it as being in love. There is so many loves in this world, often mistaken one as another. Maybe, just maybe… she was never in love. Maybe, just maybe… all this heartbreak was her being afraid never felt loved again. But maybe… also maybe… all of this was him and his sick speculation.

But, as much as it hurt for him to admit it:

Yes, she loved him.

***

“Good morning,” he flashed her a toothy grinned, as he placed their morning take-outs on the table.

“Morning. What times is it?” She stretched her arms and silently marveled at how good their breakfast smelled.

It had been far too long since the last time she woke up from a deep slumber and felt awfully refreshed. It felt strange on her body. Also, this sudden change of mood was too much that she had an awfully hard time deciding on what to wear. It had been over a week and she had grown used to it, his constant presence everywhere. He was constant and she was glad. She didn’t have to worry about losing someone. One of her greatest worry, once she embraced it, was losing another person. He was constant, he’d always be there.

For the past weeks they have known each other, her mood was lighter. She didn’t know how and she didn’t want to know why – she was afraid all of this might be a dream, swept off  in a single blink. So, she decided to enjoy this temporary peacefulness. Everything was temporary, she knew. Succumbing to all this temporariness would only hurt her twice hard in the end. But she was too tired. She was too tired of struggling anymore. She wanted to stop and she needed it to stop right now, right here.

This was selfish. She’d watched the way he moved, with every step he struggled to take without collapsing. He had twice darker bags underneath his eyes. Again, she often caught him struggling to stay conscious or dozed off somewhere in her couch. She’d feel refresh in exchange of his exhaustion. She had wondered about this more than once, if she exhausts him that much, why did he stay? Maybe because he was constant. She’d like him to be forever constant. Or maybe, she’d like Kai to forever be constant and come back. This was selfish. He didn’t deserve this.

“Sandwiches for breakfast. Tuna or beef?” He placed to cups of coffee, one black and another cappuccino. She dragged the darker ones closer and took a sip. Her face contorted at the bitterness and purred in delight a second later.

“Tuna.” He handed her one. “What time did you get here last night?”

“Around three in the morning, I think.”

“And it’s eight in the morning.”

“Yeah. And?” She sighed and bit her lower lips. He chuckled at her reaction. He didn’t know when they got so friendly over the weeks. Calling each other by first names, welcoming each other constant presence and he was afraid she might disappear. She was only at an arm’s reach.

“We need to switch.” She pushed her coffee toward him and dragged his closer. “You’ll need a lot stronger one for today.”

“I know. I know.”

And what exactly were they?

***

The night that marked their one-month post-break up, she didn’t sleep, neither did he. When Luhan came back from his schedules, around two in the morning, she was sitting by her windows sills. It was scary. Her shoulder dropped, her small back against the windy weather, her legs dangling outside, and her voice in . He was afraid she might jump and died and killed herself so foolishly. It marked their one month post break up and she had every right to be hurting. She should be hurting, he supposed.

Still, he hated it.

Tonight, sleep won’t be coming anywhere near her. On Thursday nights, her nightmares would turn worse. Thursday, he realized it was the day they broke up. To be honest, seeing her cracked, crumbled, and cried always broke something inside him. Her cracks echoed loud in his head. How much longer can she live this way – this utterly sick life? And, something that marked her first month without him would bring something even more chaotic.

The silence was accompanied by silent sobs. Twisted, the feelings in his stomach raged that he felt twisted. He was sluggish that night. As much as his stomach twisted and urged to comfort her, he was too sluggish. His vision had been coming in and out of blurriness for over the past hour. His skin burnt hot and cold. His head pounded and his hands clammy. He had been sluggish since morning. His feet were so heavy, but he came anyway. He knew how important today was and he wanted to be there, although he knew he wasn’t any comfort to her.

This sluggishness, he needed it to stop. It was killing him.

A glance to her side, he was thankful no bottle of liquor was placed there. This past week, after constant arguments and fights, she finally stopped gulping down alcohol as if it was her air. She didn’t drown in temporary ecstasy of drunk and blurry. Then, in a blur, his sluggishness came back to life. – All blur of black and white and slightly brownish from her hair, back to a blur of black and dark blue.

He remembered leaning against something small, soft, and fragile. It smelt of vanilla and chamomile or something like lavender. He was too sluggish and dizzy to pin-point the exact scent. The slight warmth that rushed through him before his skin burnt in hot and cold once more, then traces of something cold against his scalp. Maybe, it was part of his sluggish mind illusion that he heard a call in the middle of the night. Sweet and soft.

Then, a blur of black and white.

Maybe it was around two or three, or even four or five in the morning, when he slightly snapped from all this pure bliss of darkness. Still, it was a blur, keeping his head sluggish. Something rang in his head, a phone call, he thought. He cursed for a few seconds before another voice shushed him down. His back was rigid and hurting, either he was lying on a wooden block or on the cold floor. He could hear a woman’s voice, whispering in the middle of the night, then suddenly the clicking sound of the door.

Then, another blur of black and white.

***

When Kim Jongin sat by a bar downtown, he was completely drunk. The music was loud and everything about that night was happy, euphoric, loud, and obnoxious. People were laughing and dancing, so loud that his sluggish mind wanted to tune everything out and slammed a fist to their faces. Body pressed against one another. Once in a while, he’d feel this stranger touch against his skin, which angered him more. He was there, in the midst of this happy and obnoxious, being all sad and gloomy. He was laughing at his pathetic-self and crying and insane.

He hadn’t seen her smile that widely in weeks. He hadn’t seen her sleep so peacefully in months. He hadn’t seen her brightness in years. And he envied him for every single reason out there. He couldn’t make her smile so brightly anymore. Now, she was smiling as beautiful as their first meeting. The smile he fell for. She didn’t look tainted anymore, as if he was a poison to her pureness.

And he wanted to be the one.

He missed her. Oh god, he missed her so much.

And in this sluggishness, this dizziness and insanity and obnoxiousness, he called her. “I miss you.”

When he woke up, the pure silence greeted him. He was drowsy and it was not of a hangover. He didn’t drink that much, he counted it, three shots. He wasn’t drunk; he was drowned in his twisted emotion. His emotion greeted once in a while, of letting go and not letting go, of being in love and not being in love, of heartache and endurance. This drowsiness must be of his feelings, twisted in the pit of his stomach, so twisted and sick. But warm. But so… so nice.

When he woke up, his body was pressed against another so close and intimate. He could feel every inch of his skin pressed against the softer one, skin against skin. It was soft, softer than the last time and also paler. Vanilla and chamomile and soft… so soft… and so… so nice. He draped an arm around the tiny figure and forced his consciousness awake. This was all too familiar and too nice. His heart stopped for a millisecond where he realized… she was there.

Every skin of her pressed against his.

Great relief pushed through him, yet he ached. He ached so much over this closeness, his skin burnt under her softness, and the ache over her all-too-familiar scent. He ached. She was so close, yet so far. She purred when he touched her and moaned when he trailed kisses on her skin. He snuggled closer and moved an arm so her head rested against it. She snuggled closer and he kissed her with so much passion. She was his sick addiction.

“I miss you, too.” She whimpered, once he pulled away from this breathless kiss. Both eyes fluttering opened and half of her skin exposed. He stared for a long time, craving this image in his head. He’d need this. He’d always need this and this needed to stop. So, he craved it in his head: the curls in her hair, the crinkles in her eyes, the bridge of her nose, the freckles on her cheek, the parched on her lips. He’d remember it all.

“I miss you. I miss you, so much.” He hugged her tighter and when he felt her soft skin brushed against his cheek, he realized he was crying.

He was crying.

And this needed to stop.

Because hope… what hope?

***

When Xi Luhan woke up, Jieun was already back at home. She was moving in the kitchen, swiftly taking things out of the fridge and randomly throwing things inside the pot. Something wet was placed on his forehead. The smell was amazing, something like pasta and cheese and toast, enough to make him hungry despite the lack of appetite he had just the other day. But he knew, she wasn’t here last night. She tended him throughout the night, but left him behind half-way through. The clicking door and ringing phone weren’t a dream.

“Are you feeling better?” she whispered and something about her was too bright. She wasn’t supposed to be bright. She was supposed to be gloomy, all suicidal and hopeless, all full of nightmare and bitter. So, he knew something happened.

“Yes,” he eyed her nervously and perhaps his tone was too cold.

It was either Lee Ji Eun was blinded, ignorant, or simply don’t care. His feelings weren’t they all too obvious already? She was wearing a loose t-shirt, deep red maroon. It exposed her upper collarbone to her shoulder and ended before her mid-thigh. The number printed behind was enough of an explanation. She was at Kai’s place last night. The clothes she was wearing was probably his and they probably spent the whole night together. And perhaps she fell again for him and perhaps they were together again. His stomach twisted. She didn’t smell of vanilla and chamomile, but something like cinnamon and a man’s perfume.

“Where were you last night?” His harsh tone snapped her out and she tensed. She silenced him with a single glare, but he resisted. “You were at Kai’s, right?” And when she pursed her lips together, he burst. “Are you still in love with him? Jieun, are you insane?”

“Shut up. It’s none of your business.”

“And what am I to you? What are we exactly?”

“We’re nothing.”

“And do you really believe that? Can you look at me in the eye and told me we both feel nothing? Because you should know that I do feel something! I don’t sign up for this. I don’t sign up to feel so cheated, to be a replacement. So stop acting like this! Stop running back to him.”

“I can’t! I can’t stop running back to him!” She yelled back and he knew all of this was sick. “I’m in love with him, Luhan-ssi. And if you think I neglect you, you are wrong. I never ask you to stay, you insisted! So, if you’re looking for something more likes every other person out there, and then stops.”

And this pain, this heartache… he’s human too. He didn’t ask her to love him back and he constantly reminded himself he will never ask for more. But he’s human too… how long can this twisted relationship goes on?

What relationship?

It took him another two weeks to mend everything he broke when he burst that day. When he came back, everything surprised him. She didn’t drink anymore, but her nightmares were something so scary. Her throaty scream was louder, her frantic and wild-looking eyes stared twice in horror, and her fist hammered her chest again and again. When he tried to calm her down, she’d scream and slap him away. His touch scared her somehow. And all he could do was taking his steps backward, hoping tears would stain her cheeks. She always looked so dead, tears only blurring her vision before she blinked it in.

So, one day he asked her.

“Move in with me, Jieun-ssi.”

Author Note

writerblock . sorry.