Last Christmas

The Christmas party had just ended. The Christmas party where the boys drank and laughed had just ended. It was fun while it lasted, but now that it had ended, reality started to creep back in.

The boys were always careful around him, not even trying to bring up any topics which might led to her and as much as he was grateful for their thoughtfulness, he was irritated by it. He wanted to know. He wanted to know how she was doing. He wanted to know if she would come back anytime soon because all the other girls were getting on his nerves.

Countless of times he tried, but no one could understand his silence the way she did. No one could read his eyes they she did. Regret really did come much later.

Jongin went back to his room, still in his blush shirt and black slacks, and slumped down to the floor. His back was flushed against his bed; knees propped up to support his arms which were hiding his head. It was heavy and throbbing and he didn’t like the feeling one bit.

Jongin could still feel the bitter taste of alcohol in his mouth. He was never one who was fond of such drinks, but tonight he wanted to forget and if he had to drink glasses after glasses of the unpleasant liquid, then he would do it.

December was her favourite time of the year. She said it was the white snow. On other days, she would say it was the bright fairy lights on the shops. Another time, she said it was the cheerful carols. Jongin didn’t know which one for sure, but he didn’t care. She loved Christmas? Then he would magically love it, too.

The boy chuckled at the memory. He still remembered the smell of her hair, the pursing of her lips when she was holding herself back. He still remembered the soft touch of her small hands and how they always lift him up during tough times. She was so warm and so full of love that Jongin wanted to keep her in his pocket forever. She would make a good replacement whenever his mom decided to hog his three pups.

Jongin was a fool and even after all these years, Jongin still had her pictures saved in his phone. The sad boy ran his thumb across the screen as a picture of black-haired girl stared right back at him. She was smiling genuinely he couldn’t help to smile back, wishing hard it would come to live and wipe his sorrows away.

Jongin tried to bit back his sob, but his heart ached. His heart ached for her. He longed for her. As his heart clenched at the bittersweet memories his mind decided to play in his head, Jongin found himself drowned in the sea of feelings and he was struggling to breathe. The boy screamed at the top of his lungs as he recalled the night when he made her beautiful eyes cried.

“You’re so mean. Do you know that Jongin?” She told him that night, and she couldn’t put it in a better way.

Jongin stood up from his spot, tearing his blanket away from his bed as he let out a frustrated groan. He soon moved on to his study table. His strong arms knocked everything off, sending them crashing down on the hard floor. As if the damage he had done wasn’t enough, he flipped the wooden table over. His knuckles turned white at the force he used and every bit of him was screaming in pain and agony.

Jongin stood still amidst the chaos that was his room. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he was disgusted. He grabbed the closest thing to him and threw an old radio at the vanity table, destroying the mirror to pieces. As the sharp ruins fell off, he, too, dropped himself to the ground. His heart was in so much pain he couldn’t care less of the bruises which had started to form on his lower arms. His right shoulder ached, probably due to the weight of the radio he threw, but he couldn’t be bothered. He laid himself down the floor, hugging himself through the cold night.

─

Jongin had his eyes closed as streams of tear flowed down his face. Then the door creaked open. Through the small slits of his eyes, he could make out a pair of black ankle boots which looked too familiar. Letting his eyes travelled up those long legs, again, he saw a familiar piece of clothing. That dress. He remembered that dress. It was her favourite. That coat. He knew that coat. It was the one her sister had bought her. Was it really her though, or was his brain playing tricks on him?

She approached him in such gentleness and poise that Jongin thought she was walking on feathers. She wasn’t the definition of perfection. Her hair was slightly out of place. The colour of her lip was running out and her flat nose didn’t help in flaunting her beauty.

She crouched down before him; her soft hand brushed his damp hair away.

“What are you doing, Jongin? It’s cold down here.” He heard her voice. It was just like how he remembered. It was feminine, a little high-pitched, but full of sincerity. The end of his lips stretched into a soft smile naturally.

“Is this a dream?” He asked innocently.

“Do you want this to be a dream?” She asked back; her eyes were staring right back at him.

Jongin looked deep into those dark brown eyes. Were her eyes always this brown? Slowly he brought his hand to her face, rubbing soothing circles on her cold cheeks.

“No, I don’t want this to be a dream.” He stated softly; his voice was barely audible.

“Then this is not a dream.” She smiled, kissing his forehead tenderly.

─

Haneul had come back to see Jongin breathing softly on the cold floor in his dark room. It was a mess. Things were everywhere and her heart ached at the sight in front of her and somehow, through the magic of her touch, she managed to get the boy on to the bed. He was persistent in holding her close even when she said she only wanted to clean the room, to make the place more decent, but Jongin wasn’t having any of that. Haneul could only sigh. She was just glad he let her take her coat and boots off. It wasn’t like she was complaining that he had her flushed against his strong chest on the bed, but the room really needed a pair of girl’s hands. It was a disaster, but Haneul gave in and decided to clean things up tomorrow. Tonight, she would just stay in his steady arms, in his safe embrace.

It was funny how they hadn’t met for almost two years since everything went downhill. Best friends were too shallow a term to hold their relationship, but eighteen year-old Jongin wasn’t ready for anything more than that. Haneul shook her head, trying to get rid of the bad memories, and calmed down herself. She was here because she needed him and she was the only who could handle him in his ugliness and imperfections.

There was still a faint smell of alcohol in his breath and it might have deluded his mind a little, but it was the least of her problem right now. She was there together with him, and everything should just take the backseats.

She propped herself a little higher so that her face was leveled against his and began to trace her index finger along his peculiar nose bridge and down to his plump lips. Jongin grumbled as it tickled him and she only giggled in response; her voice brought warmth to his system. Although he still had his eyes closed, he was smiling oh so widely. He forgot he didn’t like people touching his face.

She rewarded his smile with a few kisses; one on the part under his chin and another one at the side of his lips and lastly on his nose. Her touch was making his insides flamed up in a good way that he pulled her closer. She was now lying flat on top of him; her arms were crossed on his chest so that her chin could rest on her stacked-up palms. Jongin had his arms around her small waist, smoothing her dress out. He swore he could hear all those Christmas carols playing somewhere in the room when in reality there was none. It was funny how those melodies were bugging him days ago, but now he found himself humming along. Again, he forgot he didn’t like those happy little songs.

When Jongin opened his eyes, she was staring at him and he blushed at the eye contact. Who knew the mighty Kim Jongin would turn mushy in front of a girl?

“What are you doing?” He asked timidly, trying his best to suppress his grin.

“Counting your eyelashes.” She answered; her voice was full of wit and admiration.

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Then how many eyelashes does my right eye have?” He asked, playing along.

“Hm, I don’t know. I have to be closer to see precisely.” She shrugged, faking a scowl as if she really was in deep thoughts.

“Well, why don’t you get closer and see it precisely then?” He teased.

Haneul giggled merrily and climbed up closer to his face. Jongin thought she was joking, but she really did count his eyelashes. Or, at least, she tried.

“Ugh, your eyelashes are too close to one another I keep getting the numbers wrong.” She sulked.

He smiled at their closeness.

He enjoyed being flushed against each other like this. As she put her entire focus on his eyelashes, he observed her face. There was an acne scar on her cheek and her nose was a little red, probably due to the bitter cold of tonight’s weather, but she was adorable that way. Her eyelashes were relatively long and her eyes spoke a thousand words, and he loved them the most.

“Merry Christmas.” They said at the same time.

The winter snow might be too cold for his liking, but he didn’t mind. She loved them and if they could bring a smile to her face, all was worth it. He could always buy a thicker padded jacket next time. Christmas night, snow was falling yet Jongin never felt warmer, but Christmas never lasted more than a day – not when you didn’t do anything to keep the warmth.