009.

It was yet another day coming to an end in the now solemn apartment a healthy couple once used to live in. Now, however, it was occupied by two strangers with a past. One slept on the bed they once shared, the gentleness of the moonlight comforting their broken soul; another slept on the couch they spent nights on watching old films, crying and laughing, just reminiscing the times they dearly missed. 

For Jongin, it was especially difficult to fall asleep that night. Just a few hours ago, he and Soojung agreed and signed on a "contract" which was merely a list of promises bound to be broken — that would supposedly regulate their lives as "roommates". 

Are you kidding me? A contract? A ing contract? was all Jongin could say to himself, which kept him up well over midnight. He laid on the couch and stared blankly into the darkness looming over him, as he repeated the terms on the contract in his head. Each and every one were stupid in their own way — more so useless. They ranged from generalities — respect each other's belongings — to more personal acknowledgments — no interferences in each other's friendships, relationships, etc. Jongin couldn't believe it. Did it really take a stupid contract to maintain and contain themselves? He wanted to rip up that contract, handwritten on rather flimsy paper; it wouldn't be much trouble to. However, he was indeed the one to bring it up in the first place, so he just stayed put on the couch, his thoughts wandering until Soojung appeared in them.    The moonlight cut softly through the curtains and it gently wrapped around Soojung's flesh, as she slept in a fetal position, her soft pink lips apart slightly. It was so cold in the air before the moonlight appeared, hugging her with the warmth she so desperately missed and yearned for. Just a few days ago, it was him, not the moonlight, that hugged her this warmly, this sincerely. Her eyelid