Changmin woke up to a blinding headache. He groaned silently as he rolled to the edge of the bed and threw up the non-existent contents of his stomach.His head was trying to explode.The way his brain hammered on his skull, it seemed it wanted to burst out.He didn't notice strong arms wrap around his shoulders,leading him to the bathroom.He also didn't notice rough,warm hands hold his head as he retched out everything.He also didn't notice beind laid back on bed,pillows propping him.And he didn't notice a glass of cold water being shoved in his ahnds.

Letting the coolness of the water soothe his throat and stomach,Changmin slowly opened his eyes.And they remained wide opened as he saw a kind face peering at him.The first thing he noticed were the warm,brown almond shaped eyes,a thin jagged scar underneath the left one;looking at him in kindness mixed with worry.

'Are you alright,son?',a deep,bass voice came.As rich as the earth.A nod left Changmin who was still blinking stupidly,taking in the scenery.

'Who are you?And where am I',he asked,his voice papery and hoarse,looking around the room which was painted a faint rose shade.It was sparsely furnished with a rocking chair,a closet and the bed Changmin was resting on.There was a small,carved wooden chest,the kind used by you grandmothers to keep stuff in,it's dark wood going pleasantly well with the feminine decor of the room.

'Oh,sorry.I am Jung Yunho.And you are in my home.I brought you here after your accident',the man named Yunho said.

'Accident?',Changmin said.Yunho tilted his head slightly.

'You don't remember?',he asked,looking closely at Changmin.

The asked person closed his eyes,trying to remember.And all he saw was black.Black clothes. Black drapes.Black coffins.His dead parents.His foster parents.Changmin gave a pained groan as he clutched his head,as memeories assaulted him.The cruel rain.Bright lights.And then,nothing.
He felt the same warm,rough hands gently easing the vice-like grip he had around his head.

It's ok,son.It's ok.Rest for now',the man said,his bass voice strangely calming.Changmin looked groggily as the man exited the room shutting the door.And Changmin's eyes slid shut too.

                                                                                                   -x-x-x-
The room was bright inspite of the curtains shut tight.And by the looks of it,it was well into afternoon when Changmin opened his eyes.He sat up,feeling heavy and dull.He let out a yawn,looking around and realising where he was.He scrambled out of the bed, stretching his long body.Something on the rocking chair caught his eye.

'Hello.I had to go out for work.I don't know when you will wake up.But when you do,make sure to eat and take medicine.I have kept the food on the table.You will just have to reheat it.I have also washed your clothes.But if you want to wear more relaxing ones,I have set them out too.If you are leaving,just leave me a note so I will know.

                                                                                                         Yours,
                                                                                                        Jung Yunho.'

Changmin looked from the note to see two sets of clothes on the chair.One was the set he had worn yesterday.At the funeral.They stared back at him,black and sombre.He ignored them and went into the bathroom,eager to wash any traces of yesterday's incident.He came out,wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a jumper,the clothes a tad bit big on him.The sweats hung a centimetre above his ankles and the jumper a bit lose on shoulders.Not looking twice behind him,he left the room.

It was a small house two-storeyed house.Climbing down the stairs,Changmin looked around him.Taking in the sparse decorations. Having lived his whole life in mansions as big as palaces,he found it a bit too plain,but strangely calm.There was this air of homelyness. Home. Did he have one anymore?Shaking his head he entered the kitchen and found covered dishes.Just as in the note.He leaned his hips against the counter,waiting till his food heats.There was a nice breeze coming through the windows,mixed with scent of wild jasmines and lilies.Changmin had always liked the scent of wild jasmines.Though there wasn't a single creeper of the tiny white flowers anywhere in the humongous gardens back at his place.

The beeping of the microvawe drew his attentions and he sat own to his meal,the aroma of stir-fried pork and rice teasing his senses.It was good too.In moments the dishes were almost an inch from being clean.He must be very hungry.And he still was.Somehow,his appetite which had been dead from two weeks,was suddenly ignited.He caught sight of a fruit basked on the small fridge and he wondered whether it would be alright to take one without asking. His appetite winning over,he grabbed an apple,throwing a silent apology and thanks to his host.Biting into the fruit,he went into the living room.

Like the rooms,it was also barely furnished.A single threadbare couch,a very old-fahioned coffee table,an umbrella stand and a small televison completed the look of the living area. Changmin also noticed a small CD case by the wall near the kitchen,a few objects resting on it.He saw a small stuffed cat,a tiny model of an aircraft and delightful little vase holding few pink lilies,binded by a small vein of wild jasmine.So this is what he smelled back in the kitchen.

He ran his finger over the plane model,astonished at the intricacy and the sharp details.A childish voice rang in his head.

'Aboji,when I grow up,I want to become a pilot and soar the skies!'

Shaking his head at his childish dreams,he kept the plane on the surface.His eyes then settled on the tiny cat.And again he had to admire the details.The curve of the tail,the nose,the lean limbs.Even the whiskers were so delicately made that they seemed real. Putting the cat back,he looked again around the room,which was painted a baby blue.May be there used to kids living here, Changmin thought.His host certainly was somewhere along his father's age.May be the children now must be staying independently. Changmin wondered whether his host's wife was not alive anymore.Since it seemed his host was living alone.

Changmin's feet carried him out of the back door from the kitchen.And into a garden.It was more like a toy garden.But filled with the regular shrubs and trees instead of the ornamental ones.He saw many flowering shrubs and a huge plum tree.There was a small wooden swing tied to one of the thick branches.So there used to be children here.He saw wild roses,carnations,pink lilies and the thick creeper of wild jasmine.He also noticed a small shrub of rosemary.

Rosemary for remembrance.

Changmin smiled bitterly.Remembrance of what?Of whom?He went to the tiny swing.It was nothing than a thick plank held by strong vinyl ropes hung on one the thickest branch of the plum tree.Changmin had a fleeting doubt if it will be able to bear his weight.But the thoughts were out of his mind as he gingerly sat on the plank.He wasn't sure if it was the huge,green canopy of the branches above him or it was the scent ofthe shrubs mixing together to create a symphony of aromas,but he was feeling so relaxed.As if everything was alright.No pain.No questions.No lies.

It was as if life was worth living after all.

'So you were here?'.

Changmin jumped from his seat,looking wildly at the source of the voice.He turned to find his host leaning against the back door of the kitchen,smiling softly.The sky was darkening and Changmin realised that he must have been here a long way.But it was so peaceful here.

'Sorry',he said.The guy named Yunho smiled.

'No worries.I was just wondering if you had returned.There was also no note or anything',Yunho said.

'Sorry',Changmin repeated again,not exactly knowing why he said sorry.

'Don't be.Now come in.I am preparing dinner'.

Changmin followed the other inside the house,a last glance at the little swing,somehow loathe to leave it.

                                             -x-x-x-

'Is it good?',Yunho asked as he watched the young man take a sip of the pork bone soup.

Changmin nearly cricked his neck in nodding vigourously as he gulped the soup.Yunho chuckled as he returned to his dinner.

'What did you say your name was?',yunho asked.Changmin looked up,torn between eating and answering as his gaze wavered between the chopsticks and Yunho.

'Max',he said after a pause.Yunho just nodded.There was some silence as both the men ate.

'What do you do,Max?Are you a student?',Yunho asked.

'Yes.I am a student of music at the Seoul University',Changmin answered,not really keen on letting the other know his real identity.

'I see.Won't your parents be worried that you aren't home?',Yunho asked.

'Not really.They are dead',Changmin said,looking at Yunho rather defiantly.

'I am sorry,son',Yunho said,pain in his almond eyes.Silence spread again as he got up to clear the table.The quietness was pleasant ,intercepted with the gushing of tap water and the clinking of plates being kept after being washed.

'Please let me stay here'.

Yunho stopped midway from wiping the plates.Changmin slowly uncurled his fists and took a deep breathe to relax himself.

'Please let me stay here for a few more days.I beg you',Changmin said,looking up to meet the almond eyes whcih were wide in mild surprise which hid a few other emotions.

'I will even work my part so as not to burden you.But please let me stay here',Changmin said,bowing like he had never bowed before anyone.He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, straightening him.

'You can stay however many days as you like',Yunho said,eyeys crinkling in kindness.He turned to wipe the rest of the plates when Changmin spoke again.

'And my real name is Changmin.Shim Changmin'.

There.It was out atlast.Now he was just waiting for all the gasps and oohs and aahs.And some unnecessary questions.Accompanied by overly sympathetic condolences about the death of his parents.But the reaction which came surprised him.

'Oh'.

Changmin looked up in mild stonishment to see the other's eyes twinkling good naturedly.

'Oh?',he repeated.The latter kept down the cloth he was wiping the kitchen counter with and washed his hands.

'I know you don't want to talk about it.But don't worry.I won't say a word.I stay alone anyways.Please feel to treat this place as your own home',Yunho said,patting his shoulder in such a fatherly way that Changmin's own father wouldn't be able to bring such feelings forth.A crooked smile spread on the handsome face as the eyes grew slightly mismatched.

'Thank you,ahjussi'.

He was really feeling at home.