Softly We Fall

 

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Kyungsoo meets Jongin on a rainy day in Paris. He’s sitting by the edge of the Seine, feet just clear of the water, enjoying the feeling of raindrops smattering into his hair. With the rain comes release, a lightening of his heart that almost brings tears to his eyes. The river ripples in small circles as water breaks the surface, and Kyungsoo imagines every new ripple to be a completely different world, one that overlaps his but isn’t quite the same. Maybe, in a different universe somewhere, Kyungsoo is a star. He wonders vaguely what will happen when the star begins to fall, and sighs. It’s a grey day.

 

He’s interrupted by a mittened hand on his shoulder and a sudden cease of wetness on his head. When he looks up, it’s first into the underside of a black umbrella, and then at the unfamiliar face of a young, tanned man, whose eyes look kindly at him.

 

“You looked kind of wet.” He holds out his other hand with this, offering it to Kyungsoo. Like his umbrella, his mittens are black.

 

Kyungsoo ignores the hand, gets up, and runs his hand through his hair, splashing drops of water everywhere. He becomes distracted as he watches one of the drops combine with a puddle, and then turns to face the man.

 

“It’s a grey day. A day without purpose. A day to be alone and just think aimless thoughts until you’re lost and don’t know what you’re thinking at all. Have you tried it before?” He answers his own question, nodding to himself.

 

“No, you haven’t. Because then you wouldn’t have come over.” The man, in answer, looks Kyungsoo in the eye quite seriously.

 

“I’m very sorry if I disturbed something. You only looked as if you were going to catch a cold, so I wanted to help. I’m sorry if my holding out a hand to you offended you as well.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his somber tone.

 

Kyungsoo looks suspiciously at him, sure he’s teasing. When he can’t find a good accusation, he whirls around in a huff.

 

“Alright, then. Apology accepted. Next time, be more careful. But now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, would you like to take me someplace warm so I don’t catch a cold?” He takes a few steps forward before realizing he has no idea where to go, then covers up his slip by turning back around and shaking the man’s hand firmly.

 

“I’m Kyungsoo, by the way. Thanks for nothing.”

 

The man in question chuckles, but very softly, just in case Kyungsoo hears.

 

“My name is Jongin. It’s nice to meet you.” He gestures at the row of warmly lit shops that line the tiled streets, and offers Kyungsoo his arm.

 

“Shall we go?”

 

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A rather queer looking couple proceeds down the lamp-lined avenue, arm in arm. They stop somewhere down the street at a small cozy establishment that glows with comforting, golden light. Passerby hurrying home through the rain observe as the one holding the umbrella neatly ties it up and gallantly holds the door open for the smaller of the two, who makes his way inside, significantly less huffy. Later on, a black, bedraggled cat slinks along the windowsill, pawing at potted plants and purring indignantly at his wet fur. We may never know, but perhaps this cat peered through the window and saw a young couple, enjoying steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of fresh baguettes. And much later in the night, when the clock strikes twelve, a shopkeeper flips the sign on the door from open to closed and watches fondly as her last customers of the day, a black mittened boy and his companion, make their way into the street, where the rain has softened to a gentle drizzle. The umbrella is forgotten as dry clothes soon become wet again, but it doesn’t seem to matter to the pair as they slip arm in arm again and share secret laughs all the way down the damp street, until they’re too far away to be seen.

 

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