Five

Releasing a happy sigh, Hyukjae flops down onto his bed and wriggles around until he’s curled up nicely under his blankets. They’re a little cool at first but warm up quickly to his satisfaction, which pulls a contented noise out of him. Being wrapped up in the warmth of his covers in early November winter is probably one of the best feelings he’s known yet. That, and snuggling with an actual human-being. Yawning, he turns the lights of his room off and reaches out for his phone on the bedside table, then closes his eyes as he dials his mother’s number.

It only takes three short ringing tones before she’s finally answering.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she greets him sweetly and Hyukjae has to stop himself from whining for attention in response. According to many, he’s apparently not five years old anymore. “How was your day? It’s been a while since you last called.”

“Good,” he replies. “I was a bit busy at the hospital—sorry about that, mom. And you, how are you? How’s dad? Is he still trying to prove the world he knows how to fix a table by himself?”

His mother laughs while his father curses good-naturedly in the background, prompting Hyukjae to smile.

“We’re both doing good too,” she reassures him a while afterwards, when her husband has stopped sulking. “It’s a bit cold though; you should be careful when going out, sweetheart. Even doctors need to take care of their health.”

“I know, mom. Don’t worry about me,” Hyukjae says. “I’m almost never outside anyway.”

He hesitates slightly, turns around on his other side and nibbles onto his lower lip. “Mom? I—…” A pause. “I made another connection today.”

Silence answers him at first, before he hears an excited gasp. “Oh, my God!” she exclaims. “Did you really? I’m so happy for you, love! Who are they? Are they nice with you? Is it a boy or a girl? Have you talked yet? Is it another match?”

“Soulmate,” he answers her quietly. “He’s—he seems nice. Very nice. His name’s Donghae.”

There’s a rustle at the other end of the line as his mother hums under her breath, pensive. “I’m really glad for you, Hyukjae, sweetheart,” she adds more softly. “I hope he’s as nice as you say, and even more. Be careful, though. I don’t want you to be—hurt again, okay? Like with that other little—” She takes a deep breath as though to calm herself and Hyukjae grins—a little sad because he still remembers, and a lot happy because his parents care for him so much. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? Call us if there’s anything. Promise me.”

Against his will, flashbacks of his past abusive relationship are once more brought up in his weary mind. He winces physically at the memory and feels his heart clench hard in his chest, a rush of anger surging through him. It took him a long time to understand that he deserved to feel like this, and that he wasn’t the one at fault at all. That he was the victim, and not them. That’s so weird, they used to tell him. You’re so weird, you know? The familiar pain pulls and aches in the most unpleasant ways, and it takes him a few minutes to push it all away completely.

It’s a soft call of his name that brings him back into reality.

“I promise, mom,” Hyukjae replies finally. “I will.”

“Good,” she huffs firmly. “So now, tell me. How’s he? Donghae, right? Tell me everything!”

Hyukjae laughs and shifts around until he’s lying comfortably in the middle of his bed, worries forgotten, then spends the next hour describing his soulmate to the best of his abilities. Somewhere in the very back of his mind, he can make out a distant humming that sounds a little like Donghae’s low tone of voice. He falls asleep to the sound of it.

The next day, Hyukjae flops down on the nearest couch he sees in the staff room of the maternity ward, groaning to himself as he slumps in it like he’s become boneless. Which is theoretically impossible, he reasons with himself. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, he lets his eyes flutter shut and drops his head backwards onto the worn cushions. He knows he’s acting a bit too dramatic—the nurses have been there for far longer today—, but right now, as all the muscles of his body ache in protest, he doesn’t care all that much. It’s like the hours of sleep he got to enjoy the last night never happened.

Next to him, Siwon rolls his eyes. He snickers at his grumpy expression, before leaning back as well and putting his phone away.

“Having a tough day, colleague?” he asks teasingly and nudges him with an elbow.