It started when it rained.

I remember it clearly, how my parents had left me for the first time. "We'll be back soon, dear," they had said. And true to their word, they had come back two days later. Of course, for a nine-year-old, that time wasn't really short. Being a bit too emotional at things like these, I found the days with Sunggyu and his parents a bit too long. As I got older, their absence became longer. There wasn't any we'll be back soon, dear, there wasn't any you can stay with Sunggyu's family, they're nice, nothing like that.

(It wasn't there anymore.)

Just a simple, "We're going, Woohyun. Don't mess around."

And I had replied with a simple, "Okay." Not a come back soon or I'll miss you two as it once was, just a simple "okay." I guess I lost the attachment to my parents, or to any kind of humans that way. I was just too paranoid, too egoistic, to be too attached to persons. I was always afraid that they might leave me, just like that, with a simple I'm going, don't mess around. Hearing that was too painful, way too painful.

Nevertheless, whenever the bell rang, I immediately thought of my parents. Because they could come back anytime, I was always a bit (too) enthusiastic when I ran to the door. But of course, it weren't them. It never was.

And the day when everything started was when it rained, just like my parents had left me on a rainy day.

I put on my clothes at eight p.m. I was just that meticulous – every day, I would cook my ramen at ten to eight, then I would have a shower, and then, at eight, I would dress up, and then eat my ramen warmly. It was always like that. I was always like that. I lived a routine, a routine I was happy with, because I didn't really like something new in my life. Because new things would always have this negative side – you had to get used to them, and to get rid of the old habit. I didn't like that – it always reminded me of my parents.

Anyhow, I was putting on a pair of jeans, when the bell rang. For a moment, my heart made a thump. Mom, Dad? I asked myself, but no, it couldn't be them. On the other side, nobody would ring the bell of my (our) house at that time. Sunggyu usually came over at three p.m. to learn with me, and leave at usually four p.m. He would never, ever come over at eight p.m. Not him.

It can't be anyone else but them, I thought, and for a moment, everything seemed a bit more brighter. A bit more colorful. It felt good, almost as if the rain had stopped and the sun now shined brightly upon me.

Please…

"I'm coming!" I yelled (with a way too optimistic voice), ran towards the door, and opened it.

It wasn’t them.

Of course it wasn't.

It was a tall boy (or maybe man, but definitely male), probably one head taller than me. He wore a white jacket and the hood hid his face almost completely. The rain outside was strong, so it was only natural that his clothes were soaking.

"Excuse me, do you need any-"

Before I could finish my sentence, the boy fainted. His body started falling towards me, and I just stood there and opened my arms for a bit. He fell right to them and surprisingly, he wasn't all that heavy as I thought he was. He was pretty light, maybe a bit too light for his height. Unhealthily skinny, you could say.

I just stood there for a while, the heavy sound of falling raindrops outside the door, and I just had no idea what to do. Should I just put him on the couch and wait until he had gained consciousness? Or just act like nothing happened and put him back outside? The former would probably be the best way, I decided. So I just carried him all over the couch and quickly closed the door. First, I went to him and pulled his hood off. The boy had a pretty, but pale face. He had a sharp jawline, teardrop-shaped eyes and somehow bright lips. Even though he had a hood on, his hair (which was pretty long) was soaking with water, just like his other clothes. So the first thing I did was undressing him (or rather, his jacket, tee-shirt and jeans – don't get the wrong idea, I'm into girls) and laying his clothes on the radiator. Then, I put a blanket on him and made him a bowl ramen.

Honestly, I did think about him for a while. About his job, what he did, and, most importantly, what he did here. How he got here. It's not like I enjoy a wide circle of acquaintances – I really don't. And among the people who knew where I lived (or invited to my house), this guy was clearly not on the list. I almost wanted to call Sunggyu – my best friend and police officer – to ask who he was, but I felt that I would know it soon, anyways. But it's not like I would abandon him the moment he'd wake up, but it didn't feel right at all.

It didn't feel right, the sudden change of events. The change of the routine I was used to.

The last time where this routine changed was when it rained and where a married couple abandoned their child, just like that.

-

About five minutes passed when the stranger woke up. I raised my eyebrows.

"So you're awake?" I asked.

"Hmm," the other replied. He sat up and looked around. "Where am I?" He had a baritone voice which was smothered in sleepiness. A bit rough, but still smooth, in its own way.

"At my home." That one would never feel right, not even once. Saying my house, my room, my food, whatever. It would never feel right, because it was also the property of my parents. It was Nam's house, Nam's food, Nam's four walls. Not just Woohyun's. Nevertheless, I still said my house, because I hated the questionnaire more than the statement "mine". The questions so where are your parents, then, and why are you all alone and the like, were hurting my heart and annoying my mind at the same time.

"And how…?"

"You rang the doorbell, remember?" It was interesting, that he asked how he got there, because I wanted to ask him the same question.

"No, not really." He pressed his hands against his head. "My head hurts a lot," he mumbled.

I gave him a cup of water. "You probably drank too much."

"Hmm."

"I undressed you, because you were soaking. Your stuff is drying right now."

He looked under the blanket, and I added quickly, "Don't get the wrong idea."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For caring so much for a stranger you barely know."

"Oh, it's fine," I replied, but then again, it really was a bit strange, wasn’t it? It's not like I was a social butterfly or a generally helpful person – I wasn't. At all. But why did I helped him again?

(Maybe just because I wanted to.)

I brought him the ramen over the couch, said, "I made some ramen. You should eat some."

"Thanks," he answered, and ate. I want back to my place and did the same, still observing him. A few minutes passed like that – us eating, I mean, me eating at the kitchen and he eating at the couch, and nothing but the slurping voices of our mouths. I wondered how his background story was like – what drove him here, was he always this sad, why he drank. When I learnt something about drinking alcohol, then it was the fact that people either drink because they're happy, or because they're in grief.

And judging from his face, he certainly didn't look all that happy.

"May I ask you," he suddenly said, "what your name is?"

"Nam Woohyun," I introduced myself. "What about you?"

He ignored the question. "Do you always introduce yourself that way? I mean, with your full name."

"I do. Why? Is it wrong?" What kind of question was this? Of course I did. Everybody I knew did. It was normal, saying hi I'm Nam Woohyun, so I wondered why he asked this question at all.

"Just curious, that's all." From the back, I saw that he shrugged.

"What's your name?" I asked again.

There was a slight pause. "Call me Sungyeol."

I almost wanted to ask him if his parents didn't worry about him, but it felt so wrong. I knew how it would end, then. Regardless of the answer, he'd ask, where are your parents you are still too young to live alone, which was even true. And I had no intentions of hearing the question, or in replying it.

(I realized, much later, that I was extremely selfish.)

"Sungyeol-sshi, are your parents alright with the fact that you stay with me, tonight?" I asked, still. Who knows, maybe he isn't as poor as me.

"You ask a lot of questions," he remarked. I could almost tell that he smiled.

"Do I?"

"You do it again. Do you often do that, returning a question with a question?"

I chuckled. "Actually, I think you ask a lot of questions."

"I know." He chuckled dryly. It almost sounded like coughing. "To answer your question, yes, they're fine with it."

"Do you think they are, or know it?"

"Let that one be my business. But I'd like to return the question to you. Do you think your parents are fine with the fact that you have a stranger here, or do you know it?"

I felt it coming, somehow. The question that hurt the most, and will always hurt the most. "Let that one be my business," I answered firmly.  I asked him if he was done with his meal, since I was done with mine also, and he nodded, and I went to him and took the bowl. I could briefly look into the teardrop-shaped eyes.

They were like the dark skies before the rain, or maybe after it, I couldn't decide.

He thanked me for the meal, and I gave a brief apologize. After that, a silence enveloped between us. I just sat at the kitchen (this time without meal), and same did he.

"Is it okay for you, when I stay for a while?" he asked and turned around to me.

There was a silence before I answered, "It is."

Silence again. "Don't get the question wrong, Nam Woohyun-sshi. I'm not asking if it's okay for the Nam family, no matter how many members there are, I'm asking if it's okay for you, and you alone."

"As I said, it is."

"Fine then." Silence embraced us again. I realized, then, that he only wore pants. "I don't know if they will suit you, but I can offer you my clothes, if you like," I suggested.

"Isn't that too burdensome for you?"

"It isn't," I assured him. "Just feel home, Sungyeol-sshi."

"Thank you again, Nam Woohyun-sshi." I almost wanted to ask him why he always addressed to me as Nam Woohyun-sshi, almost as if Nam would be my first name, too.

I brought him a simple white tee-shirt and training trousers, and he put them quickly on. After that, he stood up and sat onto the kitchen table, right in front of me.

"I think it feels better that way, doesn't it? When I sit right in front of you." he asked.

"It does." I smiled and he gave a smile in return.

a/n: I'm still not sure if this is actual word vomit, or just simply weird. OTL I'm sorry any other author would've written this one better than I do.

but I still want to cuddle The Chaser era Sungyeol.

heartsparks