“I...”

“Yunho, tell me.”

“I just got a flashback...” I croaked, looking up at him. “It...it was so scary...” I quivered.

“Yunho...it’s okay,” Jaejoong said, pulling me in his arms.

Despite his warm, comforting embrace, I couldn’t refrain myself from trembling. Loud thumps drummed into my ear as my heartbeat soared to its highest pace. The memory was too vivid, too gruesome to overlook. I could still envision my abouji’s expression, the anger in my voice, the fear in his eyes as I squeezed his neck.

“Jaejoong...was this...the...’thing’...you were talking about?” I croked, burying my face in his shoulder. Sobs heaved out of my chest, breaking my composure.

“What...thing?” he asked.

“The...the separation...” I stammered.

Suddenly, his hand stopped running down my book, soon pulling me away from me from his embrace. “Did you get a memory about that?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunched.

“Yeah...” I nodded.

“This...is why I can’t tell you anything about it...it’ll hurt you more...” he said, wiping his thumb on my tears.

“Jaejoong...I’m scared...” I croaked, reeling him into a hug. “How about if I find out more?”

“You’ll...just have to brace yourself Yunho-yah...”

~

I sat on the bed, curling my knees against my chest. Jaejoong was unaware of my paranoia as he snored the night away.

The memory lingered in brain, haunting me to death. The sight of my hands feared me. I did so many things with these hands. I caused car accidents, and choked my father. I couldn’t come to accept it. Was I murderer? What was the cause of my sudden impulse?

“I’m...sorry...abouji...” I quivered. “I...didn’t mean...to do...those things...I’m a nice person now...I swear....”

“Yunho...”

“Jaejoong?” I asked. “Did...I wake you up?”

“You...did...” he groaned, rolling over to face me. “Are...you still up?”

“I...I am...”

“Are...you still scared?” he asked, his eyes still shut.

“Yeah...” I nodded.

“I’ll comfort you...go lay down, and I’ll hug you...”

Unable to resist the temptation, I slid my back down, soon feeling his arms wrap around my quivering body. His breaths brushed against my neck, sending comforting tingles down my spine.

“It’s...not your fault...Yunho...” he groaned. “Don’t...blame yourself...you...had a reason to...do...that...”

“But...I would never think of...doing those things...”

“When you...remember the truth....you’ll know...what lead you to those things...to be honest...I fear of it...”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because...you’ll never see life...the same...way again...”

~

“Yunho?” Jaejoong said.

“Jaejoong-ah,” I said, turning from the stove. “I made breakfast.”

His jaw dropped, seeming astounded by the plate in front of me. “You...you cooked?”

“I did,” I said, cooking up a smile. “I made two omelettes for the both of us,” I said, transferring the plates to the table.

“You made quite a mess in the kitchen though,” Jaejoong pointed out.

Sadly, I had to agree with him. Juices from the tomato were splattered on the countertops, along with the egg’s residue. Pots were scattered, and of ingredients were left unattended.  

“Sorry,” I said, sitting down. “I really tried.”

“It’s okay. We can clean it up after.”

“I thought you would’ve killed me,” I said, digging my fork into the egg.

“Well, since you love me...and I love you...I’ll excuse you for anything...”

“That’s a relief,” I said, chewing on my egg. “Hey...these came out decently...”

The butter added to the egg, along with some of the spices I randomly sprinkled into the mix.

“Good job Yunho-yah,” he said, giving me a thumbs up. “You’re developing quite a talent.”

“I guess I’ve been watching you cook for too much.”

“Now we have to teach you now to clean, because the counters are seriously bugging me.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll do that later...no one can cook on an empty stomach, right?”

“You are,” he agreed.

“To be honest, I tried to make ommrice...but then the egg broke,” I admitted, slicing a piece of the egg. “I watched it from some drama, and I wanted to learn how to make it...but as you see, I’m not that good.”

“We have plenty of time to make ommrice,” he said, smiling.

I feared of his words, especially with the mention of time.

Time was ticking faster, and his health was on a slow decline. Looing at him gave me paranoia, knowing that I could lose him in any minute. He could collapse, and breathe his last breath before I could say goodbye. I didn’t want that to happen, but for my sanity, I had to brace myself for the worst.

I lost him for ten years, I couldn’t bear myself to lose him again.

Why did the heavens keep separating us? Was our love that perfect, that it angered them? Was our love too passionate? Did we love too much?

Heechul’s warning ringed in my head, the warning to not fall for Jaejoong. Everyone opposed us, deeming our love as crazy and psychotic. But if love wasn’t crazy, what was the purpose of loving? If love wasn’t crazy, nor passionate, it’d be nothing but platonic.

~

“Stay still okay?” I asked as I stepped towards the stool.

“Okay,” he said, nodding.

“Don’t nod!”

“Sorry,” he said.

“Okay...now...” I said, sitting behind the canvas. I lifted the small, sharp pencil off the table and began gliding it against the surface.

Jaejoong was perched on a wooden chair, underneath the shadows of the swaying trees. The sun hit him perfectly, accentuating the key points of his features. Luckily the weather decided to cooperate with us as the sky remained immaculate.

 “Should I smile?” he asked.

“You can do whatever expression you want,” I muttered as I continued to scrape the pencil against the canvas.

“You look really concentrated,” he remarked.

“I am...” I said.

For a while we had stayed silent.

My focus remained persistent, the jagged, lines soon forming into distinguishable shapes as I drew the outline of Jaejoong’s features. I didn’t even need to look at him. My brain had already remembered every inch, every detail of Jaejoong as if his face was a map.

The granite of the pencil graced the stiff, white surface, soon filling in the line of his curvaceous, bow-shaped lips. The lips that I had planted my own on.

 Then, I drew my hand away from the canvas as I sketched every detail, every strand of his thick, straight eyebrows. The same eyebrows I kissed, the eyebrows that expressed his worries, his desires, his anger.

Finishing the last strand of his eyebrows, I shaded in the irises of his dark eyes, pressing my pencil as hard as possible. Those dark eyes were the set of eyes that exuded passion whenever I graced in his presence. The same eyes that twinkled of glee when I said his name.

**

My back ached in result of hunching behind the canvas for a duration of two hours.

I looked at the canvas with admiration, surveying each shade, each with great attention.

I stood from the stool, relieved to be freed from that constraining position.  

“Jaejoong-ah, I’m done...come look,” I said.

I drew near him, taking steps towards the chair. I smiled in adoration, looking at the sight in front of me. His head leaned towards the side, his eyes were shut, and his lips were exuding small, tiny breaths.

Leaning towards him, the details of his face grew apparent.

The length of his eyelashes, the sharpness of his nose, the plumpness of his lips.

I wanted to claim them all as my own and kiss every inch.

My lips made a soft landing on his nose, causing his eyes to slightly lift open.

“Yunho...yah,” he muttered as I pulled away from him.

“Your drawing...it’s ready.”

“Really?” he asked. “Let me see.”

Taking me aback, a cold, little rain drop plopped onto the tip of my nose. The showers amplified within seconds, causing me to run towards the canvas. I placed it underneath my pits, carrying it to my sides.

“Jaejoong! Let’s run back home!!” I exclaimed.

Jaejoong nodded, soon taking off at his spot.

“Hold my hand!!” I cried.

He hooked his fingers onto mine as the warm, familiar feeling of his palm rubbed against mine.

The grass was dampened by the downpour, causing water to seep in my shoes as I felt it swish against my socks. The thin fabric of my cotton shirt clung onto my skin, riding above my waist.

I heaved a sigh of relief as we entered the walls of our second home, finally escaping the rain’s wrath. I indulged myself in the air’s dryness as I yanked off my damp shoes.  

“Is the drawing okay?” he asked behind me.

I parted the canvas away from my sides, putting in front of my view. Luckily, the drawing remained intact. Just a few drops of water sploshed on the surface, but it didn’t affect it nevertheless.

“Can I see?” he asked.

“No, at least not yet,” I said putting it back to my sides.

“Why?”

 “Because.”

“Because why?” he asked.

“Because I said so.”

“Yunho! Please,” he pouted. 

“Nope...” I said, wagging my finger.

To my surprise he darted towards me like a hungry predator. Responding to his sudden attempt to covet the painting, I sprinted towards the couch, in hopes to dodge him.

“Yunho~~~” he cried, his voice full of aegyo.

His grubby arms were inches away from grabbing the painting. Stepping back, I accidentally lost balance as I plopped onto the couch. The painting fell out of my grasp as it landed face down on the ground. Instead of grabbing the painting, Jaejoong slipped, his body toppling downwards.

Our bodies were sandwiched together as the firm, rigidness of his ribs weighed against my stomach.

His black, round eyes was all I could see. Those big, pleading eyes of his.

“Yunho-yah...in ten years, what do you think’s going to happen to us?” Jaejoong asked, his head close to mine as we laid in a hammock.

We were in the park, miles away from the nightmare of my very own home. Lee Mi Ran wasn’t here, nor my father, which gave us a nice sense of peace. I wish we could sway in this little hammock forever. It was fall, and the trees were swaying to the autumn breeze.

My arms were wrapped around his back, and his body was on top of my very own.

The sun was shining very brightly, bathing us in its warmth. The smell of his shampoo settled beneath my nose, giving me some sort of high.

A high better than a drug.

“Hm...let’s see,” I said, his black hair. Oh his hair. It’s so damn smooth like feathers... like a raven you know?

“...”

“We’ll be married. And I’ll be very, very, very fat. Super obese.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Because...you’ll cook me lots, and lots of food. And I’ll eat all of it because it’s ing good.”

He let out a cute giggle.

“Where will we live if we’re married?” he asked.

“Hmmm...ah! We’ll live at a big, big house. And behind the house, there’s going to be a beach. And then we’ll swim in it every night....oh and it’s going to be farrrr away from Seoul...I’ll be a world famous artist, and you’ll stay home everyday.”

“But how about if I want to work?” he asked.

“Then I guess you can work. But you have to come home early because I’ll die of waiting...”

“Why will you die?” he asked.

Then, I planted a kiss on top of his head.

“Because...if you’re gone for too long... I’ll die. You know why? Because I can’t live without you.”

“You’re beautiful,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“...”

“I think I’ll die without you...” I whispered, his cheek.

“...”

“I want to be with you forever...”

The softness of his sweet lips groomed over my neck, sending satisfying shivers down my spine.

Oh god. Do it. Do that.

Trapped in his embrace, he smothered my lips with his kisses. I flipped him over, trading positions as I arched my back.

Even if he was trapped underneath my body, he didn’t hesitate to play hard as he dug his fingers into my scalp, taking me in his claim. His kisses grew rougher, and his tongue deepened into my mouth. The sweet scent of his toothpaste doused my mouth as he drew out tiny, little exhales.

“Yunho...” he moaned.