I started this fic back in like, May, and tbh at this point I just wanted it to be over, so here's part two. Hope you enjoy.

Just once

Just once, can’t you lean on me? 

-Pray

Sunggyu stared at the diploma that he had just hung and wondered if it was crooked, or if it was just his imagination.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit tilted to the left?” a voice asked behind him. Sunggyu turned around and saw Mrs. Jang, the housekeeper, a few steps behind him.

“I thought so too,” Sunggyu replied, fixing it. He looked back in search of approval, and the woman provided a smile, so Sunggyu stepped back, satisfied. “If Misung were here she would say it looks good.”

Mrs. Jang laughed, crossing her arms in front of her body while holding a feather duster. There was something about her droopy eyes behind her spectacles that was always conciliatory. She reminded Sunggyu of a sloth from the biology books his father had kept in the study.

“I think it would be best if you wrote to her,” Mrs. Jang said. “It’s about time you two make up.”

Months had passed since Misung left after their unfinished argument, and Sunggyu hated to admit that Mrs. Jang was right. Had he known things would turn out the way they did, he would have rather saved himself an argument with one of his last two living relatives.

He would have saved himself… how was it put?

A great deal of time and embarrassment.

Sunggyu snorted, bitter, but Mrs. Jang did not know the reason. She placed a hand on Sunggyu’s shoulder and squeezed. “Whoever apologizes first doesn’t matter. You two know better than to remain at war.”

Sunggyu realized then that Mrs. Jang had misunderstood his reaction. He offered a smile. “You’re too wise to still be at this home.”

“Silly boy,” she said as she walked down the hallway. “I’ve been at this house for more time than you have. Where would I go?”

Sunggyu was about to reply when the bell rang. Mrs. Jang changed her route and, feather duster still on hand, rushed down the stairs. Soon after, she called for him.

“You have some visitors,” she pointed out, rather uselessly, as Sunggyu followed her.

“I can see that,” he replied, staring at the two figures by the door. The last time Nam Boohyun had stepped into his house, chaos had come into Sunggyu’s life.

Only this time it wasn’t the doctor who accompanied him, but his sister.

“Are you going to invite us in?” she asked playfully, holding her hand with both hands.

Sunggyu cleared his throat and dismissed Mrs. Jang. For a brief moment, he fantasized about biding farewell to them too, maybe even closing the door in their noses, but a sense of politeness held him back.

“Come on in,” he said with a tight smile. “Please close the door behind you.”

Seemingly unfazed by his cold treatment, they both stepped into the house and quickly hung their coats on a rack nearby, mindlessly chattering about the weather. The Nam siblings had the curse of being too nice, it seemed. Or at least two thirds of them did.

“We were strolling downtown when we heard news about your graduation,” Boohyun offered as they sat on the living room. “So we came here to congratulate you.”

“I heard you were among the top scores,” Yein added, smiling widely. It almost seemed genuine. She was either too good at pretending, or ignorant about the way Sunggyu had been dismissed that night, months ago. “I told you my brothers’ notes were going to help!”

Sunggyu straightened up. Of course, that’s what it was.

“Ah yes, your notes,” he mumbled. “I’ll bring them right now.”

He rushed out of the room and returned just as quickly, the thick set of papers in hands. He hoped they didn’t mind that he hadn’t taken out his own scribbles from the pile. He hadn’t even looked into them after Woohyun’s letter.

“Here they are,” he said, pushing them into Yein’s hands. He decided he had picked the wrong Nam to give them to, for her eyes became a sea of confusion.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

Boohyun cleared his throat. Sunggyu could feel his stare boring into him, and suddenly became aware of his rudeness. And yet, he could not seem to stop.

“Well, what else could you have come for?” he said, raising his voice a little, but trying desperately to remain civil, which made the tone of his words artificially sweet. Rather hypocritical, too.

“What else—” Boohyun echoed, but stopped himself. “Sunggyu, after everything that happened at our home—I thought. We thought you were becoming close to the family, since we owe you so much. And then you stop visiting without notice and we don’t hear from you in months…”

“Well, I thought I had no other reason to step into your house,” he replied, red from anger, or embarrassment, or perhaps a combination of both. “Your brother is cured, and there’s no need for you to owe me anything.”

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way.” Boohyun and Yein looked at each other. “And besides, how did you know that my brother was cured? The night Woohyun returned to normalcy… You didn’t come.”

Sunggyu, still half believing the two Nams were pretending to know nothing, remembered he had shoved Woohyun’s letter somewhere in the stack of papers he had given Yein. A part of him had considered burning them in the fireplace that night.

He searched for it, shuffling the notes around while Yein still held the stack of papers. He felt her staring at him with watery, startled eyes. Then, he shoved his prize in Boohyun’s face. “Your brother had the courtesy of filling me in for the details.”

Sunggyu stared at the oldest of the Nam siblings with his chin tilted upwards like a child feeling vindication as Boohyun read the letter and exhaled in pain, “Oh, Woohyun. He’s so…”

He passed the letter to his sister, who finished reading in half the time it took Boohyun.

“Rude!” she exclaimed. “He’s so rude! Oh Sunggyu, I can’t believe…”

By this point tears were starting to pool on the rim of her eyes, and Sunggyu rushed to offer her the handkerchief on his pocket, feeling at least partially responsible for making her cry.

“So you didn’t know?” he muttered as Boohyun read the letter once more and returned it to him.

“Of course not! We would never condone this!” Boohyun exclaimed. “We should’ve come sooner to clear this misunderstanding… Oh, that guy…”

Yein grabbed Sunggyu. “We need to fix this! You need to come home right now.”

“Yein—” her brother interjected.

“No,” she said, tugging at Sunggyu’s arm. “He does! We all need to make this clear and apologize.” Then, she turned to Sunggyu again. “Mother is insanely grateful for what you did to us. We all are, even if that brat—,” she huffed, unable to find the words to express her frustration. “I declare, from this moment on, that I don’t recognize him as a brother anymore. Instead you shall be my brother, and us three will be most joyous.”

“Don’t overdo it, sister,” Boohyun said, grabbing her by the forearms. Sunggyu shrugged off her hold politely. “But… though you’re exaggerating, some of the things you say are true. Why don’t you join us for supper tomorrow, Sunggyu? We’re holding a nice event outside, and it would be a great time to set things straight. Actually, the invitation was part of our visit today, although we didn’t expect it to be under such circumstances.”

Sunggyu sighed. Now that he knew that no one except Woohyun had thought so little of his help, he couldn’t possibly decline, especially when he knew the Nams were being extremely regretful about the whole affair. But that did not mean it would not be unpleasant.

“Of course I’ll go,” he replied. “How can I even say no to you?”

He tried to ignore the part of him that declared that not knowing how to say no was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place, but it was becoming very difficult to do so.

And just like that, once again his life had taken a turn due to the Nam family.

--

Sunggyu felt regretful all the way to the Nam residence, felt regretful once the servants opened the door and led him into the garden, and felt regretful once he spotted Woohyun talking to a group of people.

He thought he had made peace with his visit to the Nam’s; after all, the one who was supposed to feel embarrassed wasn’t him. And yet there he was, wanting to run back home. It was too late to turn back, however. He thought the gathering was supposed to be casual, and yet he side-eyed the decorated tables and the multiple gifts piled up on another table nearby. At least he had brought good wine.

As he took in his surroundings, he tried not to think about Woohyun. But that was proving to be useless; the other Nam siblings were nowhere to be seen, so he had nothing that could entertain him while he found a familiar face that did not want him out of sight. Hands in pockets, awkwardly shuffling his feet, he stood next to the gift table after leaving the bottle there.

Woohyun looked miles away from the man Sunggyu had met before. Out in the sun, surrounded by friends, he was practically glowing. He still held a cane, but seemed not to struggle with standing as they chatted and laughed together. His complexion seemed brighter, his skin sun-tanned, and his black hair thick and shorter, although a bit curled. Every time he smiled, the skin around his lips wrinkled into dimples.

Sunggyu wanted to ignore him, wanted time to go by fast so that he could go back home. And yet, he couldn’t help but think about bitterly. Where were all these friends while Woohyun was sick? Why were they the target of his affections and not Sunggyu, who had spent his nights next to him even before realizing….

… realizing what?

He saw Yein approaching and breathed in relief. A part of it had to do with the tray of glasses of wine passing in front of him. He grabbed one glass.

“I came as soon as I heard you were here,” she said as a greeting, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smoothing the wrinkles of her dress. “I hope you don’t mind to be me and my friends’ companion for the afternoon. They’ll be here soon.”

 “It seems like a special occasion,” he said, turning his back to Woohyun’s group and offering Yein his arm. They started strolling through the garden. “You forgot to mention what we’re celebrating.”

“Oh, you’re right!” she said, dramatically covering with her gloved hand. “So much has happened, you’ll have to forgive us for not sharing the news before. It’s Boohyun’s engagement!”

Sunggyu let out an incredulous laugh.

“You shouldn’t be joking with me like that. I’m going to tell your mother.”

Yein tugged at him to turn. “I’m not joking. There they are!” Unhooking herself from his arm, she pointed to the couple arriving to the garden. Everyone stopped their activities and clapped. “She’s going to inherit a rather successful tobacco company. She’s running it in all but name as of right now. That’s how she met Boohyun.”

Said man approached Woohyun and his friends along with his fiancée, where they were both received with more applause and congratulations. Behind them, the Nam matriarch arrived and went directly to meet Sunggyu and Yein.

“Oh, Sunggyu, I’m so happy you’re here,” she said, placing an arm on his shoulder. “The children told me what happened and I couldn’t believe it, but I’ve let Woohyun know what I thought about that stunt. I’m sure once you talk everything will be cleared up and it will be all a big misunderstanding.”

Sunggyu smiled in response and took a sip from his drink. He wasn’t looking forward to that talk.

Mrs. Nam excused herself after mentioning that food would be served soon, and moved on to talk to one of the waitresses nearby. Sunggyu sighed, lessening his grip on the glass, but the chatting wasn’t over yet. Boohyun and his fiancée approached them.

“Sunggyu! Always a pleasant sight,” Boohyun said as a greeting as he shook Sunggyu’s hand. “A part of me thought you wouldn’t come, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I have no reason to decline your invitation,” Sunggyu replied even though plenty came to his mind, bowing lightly to the woman next to Boohyun.

“How rude of me, I should introduce you,” Boohyun said. “This is Eunbyeol, my fiancée.”

The woman bowed politely. “I’ve been dying to meet you, but work held me back from visiting the manor at night. Boohyun never stopped mentioning how much you contributed to his brother’s recovery and how much you’ve aided this family selflessly. A very noble act from your part.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Sunggyu smiled, gripping his wine a bit more tightly. “And I was just acting on the situation. I’m sure I’m not as noble as how he paints me.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure my brother wouldn’t be here to celebrate this day without your help.” A waiter passing by offered wine to Boohyun and Eunbyeol, and while the two grabbed a glass each and water for Yein, who complained about it to her brother, Sunggyu drank the rest of his cup and exchanged it for a full one. “Alas,” Boohyun continued, glancing at his brother, “the one who should be most thankful remains careless.”

“We should celebrate that he is still with us, regardless,” Eunbyeol said, raising her glass. “For good health.”

“And a successful marriage,” Boohyun interjected as their cups clinked together.

--

Sometime after supper, Sunggyu stumbled down the desire path that led to a willow tree near where the main event took place. He wasn’t sure what had transpired while everyone was eating, but the gnawing at his stomach indicated that it couldn’t have been pleasant. At least he hadn’t made a fool of himself, for he tended to be a lousy drunk, but kept enough of his senses to shut up and nod at whatever juvenile conversation Yein and her friends threw at him. Still, he drank and drank to try to fill the void of disappointment, and soon enough found that it was not enough.

It could be that he had grown tired of being alert of any movement from the middle child of the Nams, who at no point had made an attempt to talk to him or even acknowledge his presence at the table, even though some acquaintances engaged them both in conversations about the subject they had been dancing around, since many had some—rather vague—ideas of his role in Woohyun’s recovery. For a lot of people, Sunggyu had only been keeping Woohyun company out of the sense of duty and friendship Sunggyu felt for Boohyun, occupying the gap left by the oldest Nam, who was often held back due to work and personal matters. Perhaps there was some truth in that, Sunggyu pondered as he laid down on the grass and stared at the leaves on top of him, pillowing himself with his arms, but it wasn’t the whole truth, and somehow the need for facades hurt him more.

He huffed, then giggled. He was miserable. The thought of a nap seduced him more and more as seconds passed. Surely no one would mind, as all guests had dispersed to stroll around the ample gardens owned by the Nams. Maybe they would rejoin for a ball when the sun went down. Who knows, perhaps even Sunggyu would find some company for the night.

As the flash of an image of Woohyun appeared into his mind, Sunggyu cursed aloud.

“Will you still love me,” Woohyun asked, not at that moment, but on a past that seemed to grow distant by the second, “when this is all over?”

Sunggyu had believed he would, but now he wasn’t so sure. It was not worth to love someone who was gone and not be able to grieve because that person was still there, still constant on his thoughts.

Had that Woohyun died? Been replaced by a stranger with the same dimpled smile, the same shining eyes?

Sunggyu did not want to be at that place in that moment, but he did not want to go home either. He rolled up his sleeves, ed his vest, and went back to the comfortable position he was in before those thoughts assaulted him. And then, in a snap, he fell asleep.

A slight tugging at his hair awakened him sometime later, while it was still daylight, but Sunggyu didn’t open his eyes. He kept them closed, also, even after hearing teenage giggles coming from above him.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” An unfamiliar voice asked.

“Huh?” Sunggyu slurred, trying to get up. A hand pushed him back down into someone’s lap as the giggling continued. Sunggyu accepted the tender shushing and hands tangling in his hair.

“Don’t worry,” Someone who sounded very much like Yein said. “See? He’s fine.”

“I’m fine,” Sunggyu repeated, voice thick with sleep.

(“is he really asleep? I can’t tell by his eyes,” another voice asked, but Sunggyu did not hear this.)

I’m fine. Fine.

--

“Please stop saying that,” A voice—this time a man’s, older than the girls’, but not by a lot—echoed above him as Sunggyu felt himself being shaken. “We get it, you’re fine, you’re great, you’re a joke of a man.”

“But I am,” Sunggyu replied, rubbing his eyes and pushing the hands shaking him awake. “Wait, a joke? Who is?”

He sat up, blinking, trying to adjust to the light of the lamp that the man was carrying with the hand he wasn’t using to Shake. Sunggyu. Awake.

“Stop that,” Sunggyu said, shoving the man away from him and trying to stand up. His legs buckled, and he cursed, then giggled. “Where am I?”

“Still in the garden,” the unknown man helped him up, supporting him with his body. Almost carrying him, really. Sunggyu had never met this man before. “The party is over and everyone has gone home already.”

Sunggyu, led down the path and back to the house, rubbed his face. A few flowers fell from his hair. “But what about the ball?”

“What ball?” The man asked incredulously, huffing at the strain of having to deal with almost all of Sunggyu’s weight. “I’m taking you to your car only because I told Woohyun I would do it.”

“Ah.” Sunggyu nodded enthusiastically, glancing around even though the motion made him dizzy and night had already settled in. “Boohyun must be busy. I wonder where he and Miss Eunbyeol went.”

“Not Boohyun, Woo—” the man huffed again, nearly dropping Sunggyu. “It’s not important anyway. We’re almost there.”

Once they reached his coach, thankfully avoiding going through the house, the driver rushed to help carry Sunggyu up the steps. While Sunggyu was busy putting one feet in front of the other, he heard more people arrive.

“Is he going to be fine?” Yein asked to her brother. At her voice, Sunggyu turned around to wave at her, nearly tripping back down the car if it wasn’t for the three men—one of which had just arrived—holding him at various awkward points.

“Does it matter? Look at him,” the man, which only until that point Sunggyu recognized as none other than Nam Woohyun himself, said in a strained tone. “He’s not even going to remember this.”

“Ah, —Anyone but you,” Sunggyu slumped down, partially sitting on the steps of the coach as he pushed everyone away. He remembered he was in the presence of a lady, then. “Sorry, Miss Yein. For some reason it seems I’ve forgotten my manners. I’m just—I should go.”

“It’s no problem, Sunggyu,” Yein bid him farewell with a small wave and a big smile. She must have found his performance to be hilarious, which was never a good thing when girls were fifteen and prone to chat about the incident with friends. “Don’t forget the piano lessons!”

He laughed to himself, and tried—with some help from the driver—to stand up again, gripping the coach’s door. He wanted to look at no one, wanted to be seen by no one. But especially, he did not want to be seen by Woohyun in this state.

“I had a wonderful afternoon, so if you excuse me,” he staggered into the car, and before the driver could close the door, made an exaggerated bow. “Have a peaceful evening. I hope you sleep well.”

He ignored the glare through the window as the horses neighed and the car started moving.

--

Something odd happened when he arrived home. As he crawled through the stairs that led to the second floor and staggered towards his room, he saw the ghosts of his parents standing in the hallway.

The house felt cold, silent, and Sunggyu’s swearing under his breath went unnoticed by all the inhabitants—dead and alive—of the home.

He stood there for a while, frozen and sobering up, until the phantasmagoric figures of his parents disappeared into their room as the door that had been closed after their deaths creaked open and closed again.

Sunggyu swore again, and went to bed.

--

The second Woohyun opened the door to his home, Sunggyu knew the day wasn’t going to go well. But to be more accurate, he already had a hunch of that when morning came and a letter arrived with it.

“What are you doing here?” Woohyun asked, not with disdain or malice, but Sunggyu was nevertheless cautious. There was still a lingering something that made him feel unwelcomed in the Nam household in spite of how polite everyone behaved.

Instead of a vocal response, he swung the letter in front of the man’s face. Woohyun grabbed it, read it, and let him through without a word other than, “I’ll tell my sister you’re here.”

Sunggyu could sympathize with the edge of annoyance carried by Woohyun’s voice, for he felt the same thing when he received the letter from Yein that morning, reminding him that apparently he had agreed to give her piano lessons since his sister wasn’t home to do so. This had been agreed upon during last week’s party, the letter said. Naturally, Sunggyu was too embarrassed about not remembering the afternoon on detail to dispute that claim.

So he, once again, was requested to visit the Nam’s house.

“There you are!” Yein said, in the juvenile joy that characterized her, as she enveloped Sunggyu in a hug. “I was afraid you had forgotten.”

Sunggyu pushed her aside as politely as he could. “I could never.” He winked at her, and then caught Woohyun staring. He pretended to be more interested in the rooms ahead, trying to guess where the piano was. “So… shall we start?”

--

Hours passed, the grandfather clock in the hall that led to the music room echoed in the house, and Sunggyu rubbed his eyes. “Why don’t we take a break?”

“Oh, Boohyun dropped off some truffles before leaving for a trip with Eunbyeol. I’ll see if I can find them,” Yein said, standing up.

Sunggyu waited until she left the room with her characteristic light steps and airy walk, and then deflated. He turned to his target, the middle Nam sibling, who had spent the entire day in the same room, with a book on his lap and an approximate amount of zero intentions to actually read it. Sunggyu knew, by the way he had remained about a fourth of the book in for a couple of hours, and the seemingly disinterested pose as Woohyun mouthed the words on the page, that he was pretending up until that point.

“You can stop now,” Sunggyu said.

Woohyun had the gall to mouth a couple more words, rounding his plump lips with each sound that required him to, before he put the book down and stared at Sunggyu.

Recovery had done wonders for him. His skin looked brighter in the afternoon light. The cane was gone, as well. As for his shape—as he stretched on the plump sofa with his cream colored pants and white button-up shirt, Sunggyu tried not to think too deeply about it.

“And you can stop glaring,” Woohyun replied in a lightly mocking tone, hugely misconstruing his stare. “I’m not ruining your cute little playdate or anything, right?”

“It’s not a playdate,” Sunggyu huffed, annoyed. If there had been any speck of fondness in his thoughts about Woohyun’s form, they were starting to dissipate. “And if it were, it wouldn’t concern you.”

Woohyun shrugged. The lazy smile on his face said one thing, but the rough closing of the book said another. “Of course it concerns me. I’m her older brother.”

“So is Boohyun, and he doesn’t seem to mind.” A thought occurred to him then, vicious. “Your mother too. I think she even likes me like a son.” He said, searching for ways to ignite the fire. To have Woohyun, of all people, questioning his relationships was ridiculous. Especially considering that it was Yein who they were talking about, practically a child.

“But I do mind, and that’s what matters,” Woohyun replied, annoyed at Sunggyu’s inflammatory words. “What are your intentions with her?”

“What, you think I’m courting her? That I would want to marry her?”

“Yes!” Woohyun tossed the book away. “And I think it’s highly inappropriate!”

Sunggyu had to look away, unable to contain his laughter. Of all things Woohyun had said, even in his most feverish state, this seemed like the silliest to Sunggyu.

“She’s like ten years younger than me,” was all he could say in response, amused and perturbed at the absurdity of the conversation. And if she were to have a crush on someone, that would be my sister, he thought, but decided not to say aloud.

“That’s the worst part!” Woohyun nearly yelled. Sunggyu declared himself victorious in the invisible contest of not losing his composure, but the thought did not bring him joy. “Why are you even here?”

The question stopped all the wheels in Sunggyu’s mind with a metaphorical screech. Well, at least Woohyun was right about that.

“Yes, what am I even doing here,” Sunggyu said, standing up, “when all you do is insult me and humiliate me? You’re so right. So very right.”

He stomped out of the room, grabbing Yein—who, box of chocolates and all, had been eavesdropping by the door for a while—on his way out of the house.

--

They sat on a stone bench in the evergreen garden, sharing truffles silently, for a while.

“You already know how to play the piano,” Sunggyu said, the melted chocolate off his fingers, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. Dealing with women had never been his forte, much less with teenage girls. “I realized when you pretended to be terrible at it.”

Yein swung her legs mindlessly, looking down her dress. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“And now you think you made things worse.” Sunggyu did not look at her, but felt her nod. In the distance, he saw Woohyun ride a chestnut mare. “But don’t flatter yourself too much. It would’ve happened sooner or later. It’s just that the argument would’ve been over something else.”

Yein rubbed her face with her chocolate-stained hands. She looked on the verge of tears again. “He’s just the worst.”

Sunggyu glanced at her, and realized they were both staring at Woohyun, who did a couple of spins, and then rode off to some sort of training ground Sunggyu hadn’t realized existed until that moment.

He nodded. “Is he even allowed to be on a horse?”

“I don’t know. Doctors have been baffled by his recovery,” Yein replied and sighed.

“It’s like it never happened,” Sunggyu commented, heartbroken and resigned, watching Woohyun’s figure become smaller in the distance.

“If only it were that easier for us,” she said.

--

After the failed attempt at piano lessons—not due to a lack of abilities from Sunggyu’s part, since he had plenty, but due to the fact that they were rather purposeless—Sunggyu dedicated himself to forget.

He returned to his peaceful life of, well, idleness. He had finished his studies and his uncle had told him to enjoy a few more moments of liberty before he took over the shipping company, so he dedicated himself to reconstruct his life before… well, before Woohyun. He reconnected with old pals who were curious enough about his disappearance, but not close enough to search for him during that time. He drank, he socialized, and then went home and played the piano while reminiscing of the times he and his sister used to play together when they were younger.

His sister. She came back home, pretending her time away had not been more than a simple vacation and that things were back to the way they were before the argument that made her leave. To Sunggyu it seemed that she had caught on what happened at the Nam house, so she played the part of the frivolous older sister and dragged Sunggyu to one pointless socialite gathering after another. Sunggyu let her; he understood that was her way of helping. Besides, those events were always tilting towards the hedonistic side of the scale, but nevertheless harmless and fun.

Until he came across a familiar face one night.

It was a chilly evening, but with so many bodies filling the countryside mansion he and his sister were visiting, the cold could hardly be felt. Music filled the air in some of the rooms for people to dance, while Misung played the piano in other rooms for the ones who preferred the chatter and drunken games. Food was plenty, as was alcohol and conversations, and before he realized, Sunggyu was dragged into a group of people—one of whom he felt like he recognized, but couldn’t name.

Sunggyu rested against a column when the group dispersed and only the two of them were left, funny on some strong drink already, and laughed to himself. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I? I feel like we were best friends.”

The man didn’t seem to appreciate his humor, but was polite nevertheless. “We met once, but I didn’t think you would remember.” He passed a glass of sparkling wine to Sunggyu, who accepted it with a small scrunch of his nose. “My name is Kim Kibum, but you might remember me best for practically carrying you to your car after Boohyun’s engagement party.”

“Oh, that dreadful day,” Sunggyu commented, drinking his glass in one gulp in hopes he wouldn’t realize how much the revelation had surprised him. But the man always seemed to know something more, with his sharp eyes and almost feline smile. “I remember now. You’re a friend of Woohyun’s.”

“Yes, we’ve been together for a while.” Sunggyu did not like the way Kibum smiled after saying that, offering him another glass from a nearby table. Still, Sunggyu was never one to turn down such a polite invitation. He drank more slowly this time.

They stood in silence for a while, admiring the lavishness of the ball they were attending. Misung had introduced the host when they arrived, an old acquaintance who was also very charitable towards the arts and therefore deserving of her friendship. A nobody with a lot of money to waste, but a nobody nonetheless.

“So,” Sunggyu started, trying to keep the conversation casual, “are you here with him?”

“With who?” Kibum replied, swirling mindlessly the contents of his glass as he stared at a handsome bachelor nearby.

Sunggyu narrowed his eyes. “Woohyun.”

Once he saw Kibum smirk, he knew it was all a jest.

“Yes, though he’s out there somewhere.” Kibum gestured vaguely. “Flirting with someone who isn’t you, I suppose.”

Sunggyu felt the beginnings of a headache forming. “I see why you two get along.”

“We are pretty similar,” Kibum said, a soft laugh accompanying his words.

Sunggyu stared at his glass, heard the piano play nearby. He tried, very pointedly, not to look at Kibum. The following question slipped through him like an afterthought, “Have you ever slept with him?”

“Of course.” Kibum took a sip from his glass. “He’s a very considerate lover, but sometimes can be kind of shy.”

Something revolting and pitiful set on Sunggyu’s stomach. He laughed. The host of the party approached them, telling Kibum she wanted to introduce him to a couple of girls who wanted to dance a quadrille. Sunggyu took that opportunity to slip away.

“A pleasure to see you again, Kibum,” he said, clinking their glasses together. Then, quieter, “I look forward to the day we meet without wanting to punch each other’s teeth out.”

He turned away and walked out of the room, out of the crowded hall and out, out, out, until he found a balcony illuminated only by the dim shining from the hall. But, as Sunggyu stepped outside and let the cold air fill his lungs, undoing a button of his fancy suit, he realized this night was about to get a lot lousier.

Because resting his elbows on the stone rail of the balcony, smoking a cigarette, stood none other than Woohyun in a red coat and black dress shirt and blackest hair falling over his forehead in careless curls.

“This cannot be happening,” he muttered, but it was enough for the other man to hear him and turn around.

“Good evening to you too,” Woohyun replied, eyes narrowed. Sunggyu didn’t want to go back inside to the dances and the noise, so he calculated the distance from the balcony to the floor and considered, for a moment, if he would severely fracture something if he threw himself from the rail.

“I cannot deal with you tonight,” he mumbled. “Not after what I already went through with your friend.”

“So you met Kibum,” Woohyun laughed. “Am I to assume he shared his experience with you the night after Boohyun’s—”

“Engagement party? Yes,” Sunggyu finished for him, still holding his position from the entrance. “You two are similarly crass. I understand why you would like each other.”

Woohyun huffed, turning away. “As nice as ever, Mr. Kim.”

“Mr. Kim? I wasn’t aware that’s how you regarded me,” he replied, petulant. When Woohyun didn’t reply, choosing instead to take a drag from his cigarette, Sunggyu stepped forward. “You shouldn’t even be smoking that.”

This did catch Woohyun’s attention, for the man turned around with a fake smile that seemed more like a snarl. “And what’s that to you?”

Slightly dazed at the blunt response, Sunggyu decided the fight was not worth it. The night had started to feel long. “Then at least give me a drag.”

Woohyun dropped the smile on his face, muttering “This guy, really.” He offered the cigarette nonetheless. Sunggyu took a hesitant drag, body tingling at the burning sensation, and opened his mouth to let the smoke out. It rose quickly among them and dissipated with the wind.

“May I?” he asked once he was done, giving the cigarette back. Woohyun shrugged, so Sunggyu stood next to him, leaning on the railing. “It’s a cold night.”

A part of him expected the other man to ignore him, but Woohyun nodded, staring into the woods that extended in front of them in the distance. “Starting to feel like winter, isn’t it?”

“Only once you’re outside,” he mused aloud, more to himself than to his companion. “Inside it feels like a broiler.”

Woohyun looked at him. “I take it as you don’t like parties?”

Sunggyu, still on the defensive side, wondered what kind of reactions he could prompt with a reply.

“I used to,” Sunggyu shrugged, settling on the truth. “Sometimes I still do. But I’ve grown indifferent to them.”

“They do drag on from time to time,” Woohyun conceded, bordering on pensive himself.

Sunggyu stared at him as he took another drag from his cigarette, trying to find something in the shapeless trees with his eyes. He wanted to ask why Woohyun was all alone in the dark, but did not know how to word it without sounding nosy. Still, he did not want them to fall into silence.

“Don’t get me wrong, I have fun with the dancing, although I’m not very good at it. Sometimes I wonder when I stopped enjoying them as much as I used to.” He looked back, resting his elbow on the railing. Through the windowed door he could see the people dancing inside, coordinated and cheery. Unsure of how to keep the conversation, he joked on, “Maybe it was once I became less popular with the ladies. An inconvenience of growing up, I suppose.”

Woohyun snorted, and this time, when Sunggyu looked back to him, his smile felt a bit more genuine. “As if that were a problem for you.”

Sunggyu lifted his eyebrows. “You think it’s not?”

“I know it’s not,” Woohyun pointed to him with his cigarette, and then offered it to him. “I know the afternoon was hazy for you, but the day of my brother’s engagement party you were surrounded by cheery young girls all afternoon.”

Sunggyu took another drag, bewildered. “Why do you keep trying to pair me with children?”

Woohyun shook his head, his cheek dimpling when he smiled in amusement. “Even if you say my sister is not interested in you, her friends certainly were. They braided flowers into your hair.”

“Are you jealous?” Sunggyu asked, leaning forward into Woohyun’s space to give him back the cigarette. He meant, were you jealous of me or of them? He meant did you want to be the one tangling your fingers in my hair? He did not say any of that.

“A little bit, yeah,” Woohyun laughed, gesturing around. Only until then, Sunggyu noticed that Woohyun was not quite as sober as he seemed at first. “There’s this guy at my brother’s party, a complete stranger, receiving all this attention,”—Sunggyu laughed, for he did not remember other than feeling like a babysitter to all those young girls—“and the worst part is, instead of harboring unpleasant feelings towards him, my entire family is charmed! Even Eunbyeol was amused,” Woohyun finished his thought by tapping the ash off on the railing.

“That’s only because I spent a lot of time with them,” Sunggyu dismissed him naturally. “Aside from Eunbyeol and the girls, I mean.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Woohyun narrowed his eyes, trying to maintain the smile he wore naturally before, and Sunggyu laughed louder. A part of him was not convinced this whole exchange was not a hallucination.

“I did not spend as much time with them as I did with you,” Sunggyu blurted out before realizing his mistake. However, the reaction was not what he expected, for Woohyun let the words go by with a grimace and nothing else.

“Funny how that works,” he mumbled, putting down his cigarette and lighting another one. He blew off the smoke, and Sunggyu wondered when the younger man overtook him in the conversation. “It reminded me of our time at school. You used to be around Boohyun a lot, surrounded by people from your grade.”

He let the rest of that thought hang awkwardly in the air, but Sunggyu knew he meant to say, before you dropped out. Before your parents died.

“I don’t quite remember you from school, but perhaps that was the time your subconscious fell in love with me,” Sunggyu supplied, implying two could play the game. “Funny how that works.”

 “We gravitated in different circles.” Woohyun shrugged, sharing his cigarette once again. Sunggyu counted that as a win for him. However, he did not expect the wave of sincerity that came with Woohyun’s later words. “But I do remember approaching you once.”

Sunggyu exhaled the smoke, confused. “You did?”

“Yes, it was during one of our winter festivals. You were coming down the stairs after singing carols, and I congratulated you for your performance. I was next in line, and you told me to do well, and that one of the tiles on stage was loose, so I should be careful not to slip,” Woohyun laughed, distant. “I couldn’t tell you because you seemed to be in a hurry, but you had a nice voice.”

Sunggyu wanted to say he remembered the interaction, but that would have been dishonest. He could not tell Woohyun that the reason he had not stuck around to talk to him was because he was worried about his parents. At the time, he knew from a letter by his father’s hand that they were supposed to arrive to the festival straight from the train station, since they were returning from their trip, and it seemed odd that neither of them were among the crowd.

He would later learn why.

He cleared his throat, wishing he had a drink. “I still have a nice voice,” he said, trying to pretend he wasn’t a little chocked up. “Good for singing lullabies for the sick and elderly.”

Sunggyu felt that Woohyun hated him. Tolerated him. But he was not indifferent (and Sunggyu did not want him to be).

The distant smile was still present on Woohyun’s face. “I was going to suggest you find a job with the musicians inside, but you don’t sound fun at parties.”

Both of them turned around, backs pressed against the railing, and stared into the hall. After staring at the shadows of moving bodies, he realized he never wanted to go back inside. And yet, it took him one glance towards Woohyun to decide he could not stay either. Pleasantness mixed with monstruous feelings of regret and dread, and Sunggyu did not want that combination. After all, his relationship with Woohyun had been unfounded, a mere product of fever-induced delusion.

Sunggyu thought he loved him, and then thought he hated him. Or perhaps it was both.

“I think I should leave,” he announced in a loud voice, stepping forward. Panicked, he offered an excuse. “Maybe I can still get someone to dance a quadrille with me.”

Woohyun jumped at the abruptness of Sunggyu’s movements, caught off guard. “Ah, yes, I should head back too. As soon as I finish this.”

He motioned to his cigarette, as if offering Sunggyu a final drag, but the other man pretended not to notice.

“Farewell, then.” Sunggyu bowed lightly and opened the door, stepping into the warmth of the hall and never looked back.

--

He carried that conflict with him for the next few days, until he received a strange request from the oldest Nam sibling himself. That family insisted on spending time with him, in one way or another.

So Sunggyu stood, once again, in the entrance to the Nam manor, waiting for someone to open the door while carrying a rather heavy—and growing heavier by the second—chest. Perhaps he should have accepted the help of the coach, or at least put it down while he waited, but decided against the idea at the risk of cracking his back when picking it up again.

The door opened to reveal one of the maids who often lurked around. Sunggyu greeted her as she let him in, but soon was whirled around to face an awkward half-hug—what with the chest still in his hands and all—and a smiling Boohyun.

“I can’t believe you really came!” he said, leading him into the drawing room. That feeling of disbelief seemed to accompany him often.

The ladies were already there, sitting down in different places. Yein sat by the piano, absently tapping on a key as she read over the sheet music in front of her with a bored expression. Boohyun’s betrothed, Miss Eunbyeol, sat on a nearby couch, embroidering cloudy skies onto a handkerchief—something Sunggyu had never seen, a mosaic straight out of a painting. Closer to them, on the loveseat, Mrs. Nam knitted a long blanket in clear blues and greys.

They all chatted softly among themselves, but turned to look at Sunggyu once he and Boohyun stepped into the room.

“Nice to see you again, Sunggyu dear,” Mrs. Nam said, a warm smile on her face. “I like that the conditions in which we meet are slowly becoming less dramatic, don’t you think?”

“You have no idea how glad I am of that,” Sunggyu replied with a whistle. He scanned the room with the pretense of greeting the other women, but he had a feeling everyone knew what he was looking for. Who he was looking for.

“He’s out there, horse riding,” Yein said, sounding unimpressed. “The doctor said it was good to take in fresh air, but lately it’s all he does.”

Boohyun hummed. “Sometimes Woohyun needs those little moments to regain energy after too many social affairs, doesn’t he?”

Sunggyu thought back to the ball where they met the other night and realized he had interrupted one of those little moments.

“Well, I hope that boy doesn’t take too long to get back inside,” Mrs. Nam said while finishing her blanket. “It looks like a storm is coming.”

“Freezing rain isn’t unusual this season,” Sunggyu added, clearing his throat and hoping that would put the topic to rest, but considering Mrs. Nam’s words nonetheless. “Anyway, I brought the things that Boohyun asked.”

Said man led him to a table in the center of the room, where Sunggyu deposited the box with a huff. The ladies soon left their creative endeavors and gathered around, pulling nearby chairs in which to sit. Sunggyu stood while taking out the contents, relishing on the nostalgic waves that rushed through him as he stared at the various postcards his parents had sent him when they traveled to remote, vivacious countries whose names he had only read in encyclopedias before.

The Nams sat by in silence, letting him have that moment to himself. Fond memories came to his mind as he took the older cards, worn and torn at the edges. He recalled the times he and Misung waited patiently next to the mailbox as kids, and how they fought over who would hold the postcard with their grubby hands to read aloud the message from their parents. The last few were still exempted from the passage of time, it seemed, for they weren’t as yellow and wrinkled as the others.

When he finished, laying them out on the table, Boohyun grabbed his arm. “I’m really thankful for this, Sunggyu. I understand what it must be like for you.”

Sunggyu shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I figured they could be of some use to you.”

“But it is important,” Yein said from her seat. “Your memories are important.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to keep them forever, you know?” he tried to laugh to shake off the wetness around his eyes. “I only brought them so you could decide where to go for your honeymoon.”

Eunbyeol nodded and with a soft voice, added. “We appreciate it.” She pointed out to one of the postcards, a mountainous landscape that spoke of frosty sunrises and clouds of breath in the cold, snowy scene. “I like this one.”

“You have the heart of an adventurer,” Boohyun laughed, pointing at a more colorful, green-filled piece that made Sunggyu think of humidity and sun. A life-filled paradise. “What about this one? I don’t do well on the cold.”

“And I don’t do well in the heat,” Eunbyeol shoot back, selecting another postcard, this time of a city with cobblestone streets like theirs, but with taller buildings. “This one looks sophisticated. I think we would both enjoy it.”

“My parents spoke of its bright night life,” Sunggyu said, looking at the back. Reading his mother’s handwriting brought a strange sensation to him. He added, in a quieter voice, “They liked it very much.”

A hand set on his shoulder. It belonged to Mrs. Nam. “You miss them, don’t you?”

Sunggyu looked at her, at the warmth of her voice and the kindness in her eyes. He couldn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded. It was, perhaps, the first time he had accepted that fact.

“We understand what it’s like,” she added. “I miss my husband every day, it’s something that doesn’t stop. But, you know, the longing is shared with family, so the burden is lessened.”

Sunggyu looked at the postcard in his hand, signed for Misung and him. He thought of his sister, and then thought of the Nams.

“You’ve all been very kind to me,” is what he settled on saying.

“That’s because you’ve been kind to us,” Mrs. Nam said with a soft laugh. “And for that you’ve earned yourself a spot in our hearts. And of course, our home.”

Sunggyu felt the impulse to confess that he missed the sleepless nights because they often came with the warmth of home, but the words died on his throat when, outside, lightning struck. Thunder followed soon enough, and with it came the rain. But it wasn’t just rain, however. Wind howled through the trees, adding to the downpour, and lightning struck again.

“Oh no,” Yein said, rushing to the window to see the heavy rain. “Woohyun…”

“He must have brought the horse back to the stable,” Boohyun said, standing up. His eyes were set in the window as well. “But I bet that fool didn’t take an umbrella with him.”

The two men stood up and rushed out of the room, but Sunggyu was faster.

He felt his legs moving before he realized. “Where is—” he asked a maid, stumbling with his words, “umbrella, where—” Another servant rushed by, handing him a burgundy-colored umbrella. “Thanks.”

“Sunggyu, wait—” he heard from the back, but didn’t stop to hear what Boohyun had to say.

Strong, freezing wind hit him as soon as he opened one of the doors that led to the gardens, sneaking through the crevices of his coat before he could manage to button it up properly and caressing his bare skin. He could not afford to lose any time on that, however, so he opened the umbrella and set off to find Woohyun.

Crossing the field was no easy task, for he often had to struggle with the item in his hands, which was growing more and more useless as the storm raged on and the rain drops fell in a diagonal manner, effectively reaching him despite the coverage. The fact that twilight was setting did not help either; walking was becoming difficult in the dark and with the mud making him slip every couple of steps.

Soon he could barely see, but he had the suspicion he was getting closer to the stables. So focused was he on his task that, when he felt himself being pulled by his coat, he startled and made the motion to attack with the umbrella whatever had clung to him. Before he could do that, however, he felt himself dragged until he could no longer feel the freezing rain.

“Are you mad?” Woohyun nearly spat on his face, pushing him until he fell on his back. Still reeling from the shock, Sunggyu simply stared. “What were you thinking? Were you looking to get struck by lightning?”

Sunggyu shook himself from the stupor, finding himself inside the stables once he glanced around. A few oil lamps were lit around and set on the floor, which greatly improved visibility.

“Answer, are you that much of an idiot?” On top of him, Woohyun was still angry, gripping him by the lapels of his coat, and dipping wet. “You’ll get pneumonia or something.”

“I won’t.” He sneezed. “I came to fetch you,” Sunggyu replied, hating the way his voice shook. By this point, he had figured he had seen enough of Woohyun’s faces, but he never considered the possibility of Woohyun being angry. Annoyed, maybe, but not as reproachful as he was at the moment. The petty banter they had shared before was nothing compared to this.

“And get us both killed?” Woohyun asked, an unreadable expression on his face. It gave Sunggyu the impression that he was still yelling, but his voice echoed distant, as if coming from a room next door. Sunggyu wanted to brush aside the wet bangs that were dripping water into his face.

He wanted to tell him that he had acted on impulse, but words seemed to have evaporated from his mind. “Your family was worried,” was all he could say. “What if you fall ill again?”

“So they ask you, of all people, to come for me? I doubt it,” Woohyun let go, standing up. He still sounded unlike anything he had heard before. Colder than that night at the ball. “They’d never do that to the newest family member.”

Sunggyu stood up, shaking off the dust from his pants. “What?”

“What was your plan, anyway?” Woohyun turned to face him again. “Because it seems your umbrella is pretty useless.”

“Do you think they consider me part of the family?” Sunggyu asked instead, gripping Woohyun’s bicep. He was wet, like Sunggyu, and shaky as well.

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Woohyun shrugged off the touch. “What, haven’t you realized that you’re the golden boy? The savior? That they enjoy your company more than mine?”

It does matter, Sunggyu thought, because you’re incredibly misguided and utterly ing stupid. Instead, he said, “it’s not my fault you’re not around them anymore.” The look on Woohyun’s eyes only fueled his annoyance. “What, couldn’t you have taken Yein to that party the other night? Instead of Kibum?”

He thought of Woohyun, standing on the veranda by himself, in the darkest of the night, and felt longing again.

Woohyun stared at him for a while, jaw clenched and eyes afire. It did not do well for Sunggyu to long while the other man looked at him with such hate. Shatter his heart to pieces, it’s what it did.

So Sunggyu took the most logical approach, and let his mouth speak before he could filter his thoughts.

“You’re right, I don’t even know why I’m here,” he said, throwing the umbrella to the floor. “I don’t belong to this family, and here I am, doing favors for a brat who doesn’t even appreciate it.”

“Oh, I think I know exactly why you’re here,” Woohyun replied. “You think I’m helpless without you. You want me to depend on you like I used to. Like I’m some kind of weak—”

“Yes!” Sunggyu burst out. “I mean, not the part where you’re weak! B-but I do want you to depend on me! Is that such a sin? Am I condemned for eternity for wishing you would do so little as thank me?” He stepped outside, despite the raging storm, and ignoring the surprised calls to wait.

He left Woohyun behind, stumbling down the field and back to the house. Postcards be damned, he was going home.

“I wasn’t thinking straight when I came out in this hellish rain,” he muttered to himself, shivering. Then again, he hadn’t been thinking straight for the past few months.

He didn’t want gratitude; he didn’t want flowers thrown into his path whenever he walked just for holding a sick man’s hand. But perhaps what he wanted was so much worse: He wanted back that untamed, reciprocated love.

--

Despite what he told Woohyun, Sunggyu fell sick.

He groaned when his sister entered the room, a bowl on her hands and Mrs. Jang in tow, who was carrying a bed tray with some other various dishes.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, painfully aware of how hoarse his voice sounded. Speaking felt like exposing his bare throat to thousands of needles, particularly right under his ears. Nevertheless, he considered it would be rude to dismiss them outright, so he sat up slowly.

“The doctor said you ought to eat, even if you don’t feel like it,” Misung replied, setting the bowl on the small wooden table after Mrs. Jang adjusted it to fit around Sunggyu’s frame. As the old maid left, Misung proceeded to sit at the edge of his bed. “Now say, ‘ah.’”

“I don’t want to,” he pouted, but at her insistence, he couldn’t help but obey. The warm liquid soothed his throat ache almost immediately, so he opened his mouth for more. Misung smiled, providing almost immediately.

“I thought it was going to be too hot,” she commented, focused on carrying the soup from the bowl to Sunggyu’s mouth without dropping half of the contents into his lap. She succeeded most of the times. “I’m terrible at this.”

She continued feeding Sunggyu in silence, which helped Sunggyu with the ever-present headache he acquired after the events of the previous night. It felt odd to be with her like that, without the childish fights of their youths or the tentative, almost biting conversations after their parents died. Sunggyu wondered, as he stared at the frown of concentration on Misung’s face, how the rest of the world saw her as a person and what her personality was like for those who had not spent a good part of their lives with her. He realized, belatedly, that he didn’t know as much about her as an adult as he wanted to believe.

Once the contents of the bowl disappeared, Misung dropped the spoon in the ceramic and pushed the items aside.

“Mrs. Jang made some cake,” she said, bringing forward a slice of multi-layered, strawberry-covered vanilla cake. Sunggyu’s favorite. “Though I don’t know if eating sweets is good in your condition.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Sunggyu replied, eyes on the cake and the cake only. “Don’t worry, I think I can do it myself.” He grabbed the fork nearby and took a small piece. “Do you want some?”

“I don’t want to catch what you have,” she replied. Then, she looked at him with mischief. “But I can take the strawberries on top if you’d like.”

“No, you know those are my favorites,” he whined, feeling that due to the circumstances, he had every right to do so. After a moment of deliberation, he considered, “you can have a couple, though.”

Misung smiled, filling with strawberries immediately, and Sunggyu once again reconsidered his position when only half of the initial amount remained. It was too late to take them back, however. He laughed, even though doing so hurt his chest. Then, he coughed.

After another moment of silent eating, he wheezed, “Thank you.”

Misung shrugged. “It was nothing. Mrs. Jang cooked, since you know I’m lousy at it.” She placed her hands on her lap, rubbing them on her legs softly, wrinkling her breeches. “I suppose I’m pretty lousy at taking care of people as well.”

She laughed a little, and though it sounded insincere, Sunggyu decided not to comment on it. Instead, he said, “You’ve done a pretty good job so far. Called the doctor and then brought food. That’s most of the job.”

Misung looked down her lap, silent, and Sunggyu glanced around. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to escape.

“I don’t just mean it right now,” she replied in a quiet voice, “although I think I just poured half of the soup into your lap.”

“It’s only the blanket,” Sunggyu interjected as he fanned the piece of cloth, desperately trying to joke his way out of the situation.

Misung smiled at him. “I never told you how sorry I am that I wasn’t here with you.”

Sunggyu didn’t know what to say, so he grabbed the cup of tea that was next to his now empty plates and drank from it. His nose was starting to become runny, and wasn’t that just the perfect moment for it?

“Well, that is true,” he conceded, setting the cup on its ceramic plate. He did not want to make his sister feel worse, but he also didn’t want to minimize his own feelings. He owed that honesty to Mrs. Nam at least. “I must confess that I’ve been holding that grudge for a while.”

“I know,”—Misung sounded a little chocked up, so Sunggyu had the decency not to stare at anything but the cup—“you’re not exactly subtle. Your honesty is a bit intimidating, I must say. But you’ve been right to do so.”

Sunggyu sighed. “Yes, but I’m tired of that.”

He was tired of a lot of things; his emotions towards his family’s situation was far from the only thing in the list of intense feelings that made Kim Sunggyu a slave.

“Oh, Sunggyu,” Misung threw herself at him, never minding that she almost pushed the bed tray and its contents—half-full cup included—off the bed, or that her body was bent in an awkward position. “I’ve missed you so much. I am sorry about our parents, and I am sorry that I left you alone.”

She was crying, the trail of her tears wetting Sunggyu’s nightshirt. Sunggyu himself was close to that point.

“It was burdensome,” was all he could manage.

Misung squeezed him. “I know, and you’re free to never forgive me or talk to me again, but at least let me be by your side until you get better.”

“I don’t want that,” he mumbled, and, after her horrified gasp, “I mean—! I don’t want to stop talking to you or anything like that. I’m tired of keeping all these feelings bottled up and growing resentful and then pushing people away,” he passed saliva, his throat aching, “with the excuse of protecting myself.”

“That is surprisingly honest, coming from you,” Misung said, wiping her tears and seeing him eye-to-eye. “Does this mean that you forgive me?”

Sunggyu sighed. After who knows how many years of being upset at his sister, of waiting for the moment one of them would burst and of the growing confidence that a war would be fought at the Kim residence, this moment finally came.

“I do,” he said, and Misung breathed a sigh of relief that shook her whole body as if freeing her of a heavy weight. Perhaps it freed Sunggyu too.

“Thank you,” she replied, brushing his hair off his forehead like their mother used to, and deposited a kiss that touched his not-quite-feverish skin like a feather. “Now… do you want more cake?”

--

Sunggyu spent the rest of his sick days dozing off, thinking of the words he had spoken to his sister and the conversations he had come to have with the various people in his life. He awoke only a couple of times by his sister’s doing or, occasionally, his brother in law or Mrs. Jang, who helped him take his medicine.

On one of such occasions, they had a surprise for him.

“You have some visitors, Mr. Kim,” Mrs. Jang said, uncapping the bottle of the gooey, green liquid the doctor had given him. Sunggyu felt like throwing up just by looking at it. “Shall I let them in?”

“Who?” he asked, promptly interrupted by the bitter taste of the medicine being shoved past his lips with the finesse of a train hitting a bank of snow.

“The Nam siblings,” Mrs. Jang replied, blissfully unaware of his suffering. “Such wonderful kids.”

“Yes, they may come in,” he said once he regained the ability to talk after such a taste, and then proceeded to take a sip from the warmth tea the old lady had brought for him.

When they entered the room, Sunggyu expected Yein and Boohyun, perhaps even Eunbyeol, but he was surprised that the middle sibling was also with them.

“Sunggyu! Oh, how dreadful!” Yein threw herself at him, nearly in tears. The women in his life seemed to do that often these days. “We rushed here when we received the news! Mother wanted to come as well, but she and Eunbyeol are a little tied up with the wedding preparations.”

“I’m not dying,” was all he could said, the wind knocked out of him with her hug.

Boohyun peeled her away from him. “That’s good to hear. We were worried…”

He kept talking, but Sunggyu’s attention was focused on Woohyun, who skimmed through his bookcase with a hand on his pocket, the other one swinging his hat, and a jutted out lip. Sunggyu knew he had taken some of those books, particularly some from the fantasy genre, to read to Woohyun on nights where he had been particularly fitful and Sunggyu’s voice was the only thing that could soothe him.

Sunggyu wondered if he remembered them or if he considered them part of a distant, nebulous dream. Or, even, if he thought of them at all.

“…why we brought them back.” The oldest Nam concluded, unaware that he wasn’t holding Sunggyu’s attention captive like Woohyun inadvertently did. “We ended up choosing the city that your parents liked.”

He clapped Sunggyu in the shoulder, which immediately brought him back to the conversation.

“O-oh, from the postcard, right?” He asked, wondering if he had heard that last part right.

Boohyun seemed satisfied enough. “Yes, and now you have to get well soon before the wedding, so you can watch us leave.”

The oldest Nam laughed softly as Yein pinched him in the arm and pushed him away to steal his place next to Sunggyu’s bed.

“We do hope that you’re able to come. Aside from the breakfast we’re holding after the ceremony, we’ll have a ball at night,” she said, clasping her hands around Sunggyu’s. “And if there’s anything that we can do to help, please tell us.”

Sunggyu laughed softly. “I appreciate that, but I don’t think there is much to do,” he wanted to keep talking, but the medicine he was taking was known for its ability to cause drowsiness in a short period of time, so a yawn broke out of his lips involuntarily. He leaned back on his pillow. “With enough rest I’ll be well soon.”

“Right, of course,” Yein dropped his hand and stood up after helping him fluff the pillow. She looked at Boohyun, who in turn looked at his younger brother. “Then… perhaps we should go?”

She didn’t sound sure of herself when she spoke those words, but Sunggyu was not going to question or contradict her. Boohyun looked back at her, then nodded.

“It was a pleasure to see that you’re not doing so badly,” he said, patting him on the shoulder once again.

“We’ll see each other at the wedding,” Sunggyu promised, nodding them as they left the room.

Only that not the three of them left. Woohyun stood aside, letting his sibling pass by. The two Nam brothers shared a look, unreadable from Sunggyu’s perspective, before Boohyun dragged Yein away.

When they were out of sight, he approached Sunggyu’s bed. All tiredness left Sunggyu’s body; like he would be able to fall asleep with Woohyun in the same room as him. He thought of what he had said to Misung before.

A gentle lover, an intrusive thought that sounded too much like Kibum’s voice echoed in the back of his head. Sunggyu wonder if he was starting to become delusional.

“I feel like this is my fault,” Woohyun said, twirling his hat nervously with both hands. “For that, I must apologize.”

“It was not your fault,” he waved his hand dismissively. “These are the consequences of my actions and mine alone.”

Woohyun bit his lower, plumper lip. “Even then,” he added, “had I not antagonized you that night—”

“I ran away then,” Sunggyu interrupted, tired of the forced politeness and of himself. He sat up again. “So, like I said, my actions.”

Woohyun kept chewing on his lip. Then, he glanced around the room, as if expecting someone to burst in.

“You ran away that night at the party as well,” he said, and Sunggyu didn’t know if that was a joke or a reproach, but he laughed anyway, ignoring the ache on his chest when he did.

“I seem to do that a lot, don’t I?” he said, then coughed. At least his little show of introspection was not misguided. Woohyun nodded, passing him his cup of tea. Sunggyu took a sip, and stared at the man next to him.

He gave the cup back to Woohyun, who put it back in the bedside table. Sunggyu could have done that himself, but he wanted to see if Woohyun would do it for him without asking. He didn’t know what to feel when the man did so much like an automaton, like in a reflex.

“Although,” he mumbled, staring at the cup and realizing he wanted to talk to Woohyun standing face to face and without either of them ailing in some way or another, “perhaps now is not the time for that kind of conversation.”

“At least we agree on that,” Woohyun laughed, a nervous, hiccup-like sound that sounded strangely melodic. “See you at the wedding, then.”

Sunggyu nodded, but said nothing as he watched the other man’s retreating back.

It would be soon, he thought, but decided on one honest confession at a time.

--

Days later, it was finally happening. Boohyun and Eunbyeol got married.

Sunggyu played with his hat on the way to the ball at the Nam mannor, accompanied by his sister and his brother-in-law. The carriage moved in tandem with the trotting of the horses that pulled it, a fast, short-lived rhythm that didn’t help his nerves.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Misung asked, her gloved hand coming in contact with his arm. Sunggyu nodded at her, perhaps too quickly or not convincingly enough, for she huffed. “I’m not going to stop you, but think it through, yes?”

Sunggyu stared through the window. “All I’ve done these days is think. Frankly, I’m tired of my interior voice.”

He was tired of waiting, too. Of the tension on his shoulders. Of bracing himself for a confrontation that would never come. He looked back to his sister and her husband, happily holding hands as they listened to him.

--

The ceremony had been beautiful; it was bound to happen, after all, for the combined efforts of the families involved, in addition to the wealth spent, resulted in a display of splendor and fanfare. The Nam residence was covered in decorations that made the manor look as if taken straight out of a fairy tale, with every corner lightened by lamps and candles and the bigger rooms, by the chandeliers. Every spare room that could fit a table or have enough space for dancing was adapted to do so, and it seemed to be necessary, for the amount of guests had far surpassed Sunggyu’s expectations.

Far it was from the grim place Sunggyu had visited many months ago, and the thought caused a wave of nostalgia to rise inside him. Who would have thought that such splendor and joy would be possible in a place that almost became the scenario of the death of a young man at some point?

Sunggyu sighed. He was planning on leaving the city that night; his belongings were packed and stashed in the car, guarded by his driver until Sunggyu’s time at the party was over.

Of course, none of this was known to the Nams, but he had decided to leave his sister to deal with that fallout. In addition to that, Sunggyu had planned to write them once he arrived to his destination, although he figured Boohyun and Eunbyeol would be too busy on their honeymoon to learn of his departure.

Sunggyu sighed as he dusted off his trousers. Ever since that conversation with his sister, he was starting to second-guess his decision, but he had to go through with his plan. There was only one way to make him stay, at any rate.

With that thought in mind, he walked across the rooms, searching for Woohyun. And soon enough, Sunggyu found the man leaving the ballroom in the direction of the solarium, which at night was illuminated by a smaller chandelier. He recalled Boohyun saying that Woohyun often needed time to gather his thoughts at social events.

“An overwhelming number of guests,” he supplied, stepping towards the younger man and nodding as a greeting. They had already met before, but it had been when Sunggyu and his family approached the Nams to congratulate them. Certainly not a time to discuss the matters that were pressing Sunggyu.

Woohyun turned to look at him, one hand deep in his pocket and another holding a glass of sparkling wine. “It’s absolutely crowded,” he said. “I’m surprised this room was empty.”

Sunggyu glanced at the windows around them in the small room. “We could always go into the gardens if that were the case.”

Woohyun shook his head. “It’s too cold, even if it’s not dark yet. We could get sick,”—he laughed—“and I’m sure neither wants to go through that again.”

Sunggyu stepped forward to stand next to Woohyun, and looked at his profile. They were both dressed in a similar manner, but Woohyun, as the groom’s brother, maintained certain glamour that Sunggyu, as a guest, did not have. The man wore a beige waistcoat and darker trousers, no doubt matching the brown double-ed frock coat Sunggyu had seen him wear earlier that day. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was styled back.

He was handsome.

In the distance, music played.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Sunggyu said, suddenly certain of what he had to do.

Woohyun took a sip from the drink in his hand and looked at him. Expectation flared in his eyes. Sunggyu fished out the piece of thin cardboard that had been on his coat for the entire afternoon and passed it to the other man.

“A train ticket?” Woohyun asked, staring at the information printed on the item.

“The last train tonight,” Sunggyu supplied. “I don’t know if you recall, but a distant uncle manages the merchant ships my parents left my sister Misung and I. I plan on taking over so that he may retire. It’s about time I stop lazing around.”

Woohyun opened and closed his mouth, wordless. Eventually, all that came out was a mumbled, “you’re leaving?”

Sunggyu took a deep breath.

“Nam Woohyun,” he said. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend that what transpired between us was only a feverish dream of yours. Well, it was, but—For me it became something else. I can’t stay here, either, pretending to be part of this family—and forgive me for leaving the rest of your siblings out of this discussion—while thinking I need to watch for everything I say or do, lest I risk your relationships with other people.”

He shoved his hands on the pocket of his coat, ignoring his own shaky breath.

“Why do I feel like you’re insulting me?” Woohyun asked in an incredulous voice, downing the rest of his drink afterwards.

Sunggyu huffed, his temper flaring. “That’s just you. All I’m trying to say is,” he looked away, then back to him. His cheeks felt warm. “You hold my future now. You can decide what you want to do with that ticket. If you give it back to me, I promise we will never see each other again.”

Woohyun stayed silent, staring at the ticket on his hands. He turned around, and Sunggyu braced himself for the imminent heartbreak that would come once Woohyun left the room, but all the younger man did was sit down on the windowsill.

“During the day, when I was sick,” Woohyun said, after a long time of contemplation, “my family used to tell me what happened between you and I. At least, when I was awake.” He stared at Sunggyu, toying with the ticket. “I always felt mortified, and sometimes I asked them to stop telling me. I didn’t even know this man, how could I…?” He looked away. “I yearned to have my freedom back, to be out of that bed. I grew to hate my illness, and everything that came with it.”

Sunggyu clenched his teeth, reaching for the ticket. “I understand.”

Woohyun moved the ticket away from him, however. Instead, with a free hand, Woohyun grabbed him by the wrist. It wasn’t even a tug, or a pull to draw him closer. It was merely the warmth of his palm and the soft curl of his fingers, thumb pressed on his pulse point, what made Sunggyu stop.

“But then,” Woohyun continued. “Sometimes I would wake up and reach for something I couldn’t understand. A hand that, I hoped, would be there. And I would grow disappointed when it wasn’t, despite myself.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sunggyu asked. Woohyun’s hand on his wrist remained.

“I’m sorry I sent you that note, Sunggyu. I really am,” Woohyun said, his eyebrows furrowed. “I was confused and scared. I still am, sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night and I hope that you’re there, and when you’re not… An overwhelming despair comes over me. And after every argument we have you walk away, I must confess I feel the same.”

When Woohyun’s words dawned on him, Sunggyu sank to one knee and Woohyun finally let go of his hand.

“The night before you went back to normal, you asked me something. Do you remember what it was?” Woohyun stared at him, his hand retreating to his lap, holding the ticket. Sunggyu his lips, shaking, not breaking eye contact. “You asked me if, when this was all over, I would still love you the same. Do you remember or not?”

Woohyun looked at him. “Do you?”

Sunggyu stared back, letting out a shaky breath. Unable to trust his voice, he nodded.

For a few seconds, nothing could be heard except the noises in the other rooms, the distant violin and the tapping of shoes on the floors. And then, the ripping of cardboard.

Sunggyu looked down to find his train ticket broken into two parts, which soon turned into four, and then into eight. A gasp escaped from his lips as he looked back up again, encountering a surprised expression on Woohyun’s face that perhaps mirrored his own.

“Does this mean…”

Woohyun nodded, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Sunggyu and pull him into his chest. Sunggyu heard the wild thumping against Woohyun’s ribcage. That too, perhaps mirrored the beating of his own heart.

Sunggyu snapped out of his stupor and pushed the other man away, only to take Woohyun’s face between his hands and press a soft kiss against the plump, rosy lips that tasted like sparkling wine and a bit of something that was distinctly Woohyun’s in a way he couldn’t put into words. Woohyun’s own hands came to grab Sunggyu by the lapels of his coat and pull him closer, exhaling into his mouth with a relieved breath. Woohyun’s lips were as soft as Sunggyu had imagined, gliding effortlessly against his own as Sunggyu’s hands travelled from Woohyun’s face to the back of his head and lost themselves among the other man’s black curls. Woohyun made a sound that indicated he approved of the touch.

Perhaps it felt as right for him as it felt for Sunggyu, like the world had fixed its rotation after millions of years of it being wrong.

--

Sunggyu took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. He knew it was a bad habit, but couldn’t help it.

“It’s late,” a voice came behind him, and soon after, arms sneaked around his neck and down his chest. “Why don’t you leave that for tomorrow?”

“It’s a letter for your brother,” he explained as Woohyun pressed a kiss against his cheek. “I want to send it first thing tomorrow morning, otherwise it will take centuries to reach him.”

“They won’t be back from their honeymoon for another week. It can wait,” Woohyun replied, massaging his shoulders. “Let’s go to bed.”

Sunggyu left the unfinished letter on his desk and turned around. His eyes were tired, and Woohyun made a very compelling argument, although he had to admit his judgement was slightly clouded by the skilled hands kneading his tired muscles.

“What do I gain if I do as you say?” He asked, but he was already being led up from his chair as Woohyun grabbed the oil lamp from the desk.

Woohyun winked at him, guiding him out of the room. “Why, a good night’s sleep,” he said, but his smile promised anything but.

Outside, the waves roared.