3 Years Later

J O N G I N

Cafe Ambiance. My go-to for high quality coffee. It could be said that it was the perfect quiet space for writing… But every space was quiet for me. I hadn’t lost ALL of my hearing in the accident, but the only thing that ever reached my ears was extremely loud noises. The silence no longer bothered me. I came to terms with it long ago, I had to, seeing as there was nothing else I could do to help it. Beating myself up over it wouldn’t bring back my hearing, it would only worsen my self-hate, and there was too much of it.

Every single day, I would replay the accident inside my head. If I had just listened to Chanyeol… If I had been more aware of the stop light… There were many things I could have done to prevent the lifelong impairment I caused for myself… But time travel didn’t exist. Instead of always pondering on it, I wrote to distract myself.

It was always about the sound of something… The way the leaves may have crunched under my feet if I could hear them. The way a dog I saw down the street would have sounded while barking at me. Or just the sound of the cars, passing by me, on my morning commute to university.

I focused on the areas around me, looking for a sound I could play inside my head. My eyes caught the movement of the trees along the sidewalk just outside the cafe. The branches were swaying slowly, the sound of swishing leaves and wind immediately coming to mind. I closed my eyes, savouring the memory of what it sounded like. Some things were harder to recall than others, but the sound of wind came easy. I had heard wind on many occasions, and I was grateful for every little sound I could remember. I re-opened my eyes and began to scribble down in my leather-covered notebook. When I was done, I looked up and was surprised to see someone had accompanied me in the seat across my table. I had not heard him approach and wondered to myself whether or not he had tried speaking to me already.

He was young looking with dark hair, fair skin and wide eyes and rosy lips that were moving.

I did my best to tune into what he was saying to me by reading his lips.

“.....and you looked so focused. So I wondered what you were writing about.”

I looked away from him once he had stopped then back down at the open notepad in front of me.

Everyday was a struggle. Often people would talk to me, unaware of my condition, and I never ever had the guts to tell them about it. I was extremely ashamed. Especially since it so easily could have been avoided at the time. I wasn’t a fan of using my voice, either, afraid of not knowing how it may sound to the other person. Instead, I kept quiet. If I was familiar with the other person, I wrote notes.

But in this case, I only stared off to the side, not wanting to communicate; the sound of trees still rustling through my mind. That was until the smaller male across from me waved a hand toward my face, which forced me to pay attention to him again; my eyes catching one word he spoke.

“....listening?”

I didn’t have time to explain to a stranger that I was hard of hearing, and I was slightly frustrated by the fact that the male hadn’t even considered it. Was it really not that common, being deaf? I picked up my things and slipped them into my bag, took my coffee in hand and made way towards the exit.

I only looked back once, a confused pair of wide eyes meeting mine.

Chanyeol knew something was up once I walked into our apartment. We had moved in together once I dropped out of high school, and decided that we would live close to the university we both just so happened to get into. He was amazing during the first year after the accident. He came to every sign language lesson with me and became a somewhat translator for me. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better as my best friend. He always looked out for me.

Once I had put away my things, Chanyeol signed to me.  Did something happen? You look upset.

I inhaled deeply before shrugging, making myself comfortable on the couch before signing back. A stranger approached me. He was rude. But it’s fine. Used to it.

Chanyeol said nothing more, only offered me the dinner he had cooked for us both. After meal time I didn’t see him again, and I took the chance to get out my notebook before doing coursework.

But in my bag, it was nowhere to be found.

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A/N: Thank you all for the subs so far! Hope you're looking forward to the next chapter!