The $600,000 he stole stayed in a cash reserve. $400,900 left of it untouched. Taken by him as payout for the 365 days of torture.

Sehun had no intention to return it.

Tears flooded down her face, but in comparison every inch of Sehun’s entire body wracked with agony. His shoulders bobbed. He struggled for air, every deepening heave a deadening, throaty cry. Eyes narrowly shut as pain tornadoed through him in the form of bombarding tears.

“I just wanted to be normal.” Sehun scrubbed at his face uselessly. “I wanted to be like everyone else. I didn’t want you to see me this way. It’s embarrassing and shameful.”

Her bottom lip quivered. Witnessing Sehun’s breakdown. Unable to move where he stood. He didn’t come to her to ask for strength and comfort. Half a room away and he seemed so alone like he’d always been without warmth.

Namjoo’s heart broke over and over for him.

So, she went to him. Slowly stretching her arm up, touching his soaked face. Blinking tears as she assured him, “It’s not embarrassing.” Pulling him into her arms and touching the back of his head, she comforted, “You just did what you felt was right.”

Touching her back, he cried, “I’m so sorry. I’m never who you thought I was. I’m so sorry.” Tucking his head against her shoulder his body shook against her; the sobs a never-ending tale of his life.

Red-eyed, Namjoo requested for a sleeping cot hours later. The nurse wheeled in a pop-up bed so thin and uncomfortable Namjoo could feel the springs when she lay down. As night fell Namjoo listened to the silence hovering in the room. Encased in darkness despite the half-moon shining through the closed curtain.

A slight turn of the head and she saw Sehun sleeping with his back to her. He didn’t ask her to go to him. He just lay alone the exact way he had so many times in his life. With no one to accompany him.

Namjoo didn’t know how long she stared, but Sehun never budged. Curled up underneath an identical blanket she couldn’t tell if he was cold or not. She wondered if he was awake. How often was he left alone, staring out at the moon, watching the stars flare and then leave him.

How many times had it killed him?

He must have been so scared.

At seventeen, Namjoo still sank into the comfort that her parents were just a way down the hall if she was scared. At seventeen, Namjoo heavily relied on her parents for safety. At seventeen, Namjoo had food on the table. At seventeen, her mom and dad still nagged her. Dress warmly in fall. Zip up your coat, you need to protect your heart and keep it warm. Take some money for lunch.

At seventeen years old, a child still needed their parents.

“Are you asleep?” Namjoo called out.

She got no answer.

Pulling the blanket further over her she continued lying on her side, watching Sehun the entire night.

After folding the blanket into a neat square the coming morning, they received a visit from the attending physician.

Sehun was free to go.

He was required back for visits with the doctor who had diagnosed him with depression. They were to pick up medicine for him before leaving the hospital. On the outside the picture appeared perfect, but the problem was not internally solved.

Thanking the doctor Namjoo glanced at Sehun. Sitting at the edge of the bed again. His long legs easily reaching the floor. One light push and he’d be on his feet, but he never moved. His head hung low. His nose nearly perpendicular to the glossy floor.

“Did you hear that?” Namjoo chirped. “Whenever you’re ready, we can go. I’ll give you a lift.”

Namjoo almost assumed he wouldn’t speak, but then he quietly asked, “Can I stay with you?” After a brief pause, he said, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Her heart welled up for him. Agreeing she led him out of the hospital. Sehun lingered several steps behind, as if he was unwilling to step back out into the world. Though the heat was almost unbearable she saw Sehun rubbing his arm like he was cold.

“Do you want to pick up some spare clothes?” Namjoo started when they got into her car.

Sehun shook his head.

“Then,” Namjoo tried, “what do you want to do?”

“I have some spare at work.” Sehun reminded.

“You should change though.” Namjoo persuaded. Merging into traffic, she offered, “I’ll drop you off first. I need to grab some supplies from the office and then I’ll be home. Ok?”

“Ok.” He complied.

Namjoo tried a smile but Sehun hardly looked at her.

Once dropped off, Namjoo sped to work. Hustling through the hallway toward her desk and threw a manual along with three sketchbooks into a bag. Without speaking to anyone she left the building. Five minutes later she skidded into a clothing department. Going from aisle to aisle, searching for comfortable clothes for Sehun.

Six bags were dangling off her arms when she finally trailed through the door. Sehun was laying down on her couch doing nothing. Just staring up at the ceiling, as if it was the most fascinating thing in her house at the moment.

“Have you eaten?” Namjoo called out, huffing as she dropped the bags onto the nearby table.  

“I didn’t feel like it.”

Searching for the clothing department bag, Namjoo snatched them and walked over to him. “I got you clothes to change into. Sorry I took a while.”

“It wasn’t long.” Sehun muttered but he never looked at her.

“Go take a shower.” She urged the bags toward him. It took fifteen seconds for him to finally move, grab the bags, and like that shuffle away. Namjoo turned as the bathroom door closed.

Patience she reminded herself. After an attempt on his own life everything Sehun ever had must feel jarred and out of place. Time would console him. She could only hope.

Namjoo started on dinner while waiting for Sehun to finish showering. Throughout the rest of the evening he rarely talked to her. Quietly sitting by himself. Gnawing on his food. Declaring he was full six minutes in. Cleaning up Namjoo wiped down the table and sprawled out her work materials. Peeking every so often into the living room where Sehun was flipping through the channels every three minutes.

At nightfall, Namjoo changed the bedsheets. Having no heart to let Sehun sleep alone on her sofa. It felt foreign even if they weren’t dating but that he’d once so lovingly held her in his arms to sleep.

Leaving her bedroom, she poked her head out to see him where she expected. “Don’t sleep out there, Sehun.”

No movement. No reply.

Retreating Namjoo returned to her room leaving the door open for him. Making herself comfortable she counted down the minutes. Went up to thirty before the lights in the hallway went off. Then Sehun climbed onto the bed.

Closing her eyes at last Namjoo breathed relief. Beginning to sink into exhaustion after staying up for him, but waking when Sehun rolled over and wrapped his arm over her belly. The weight of his head landed on the back of her shoulder next.

“The first night it was so dark I couldn’t see anything.” His voice came out muffled against her shirt. “I was so scared. I always sang myself to sleep and pretend I wasn’t alone.”

A hot tear dripped out the corner of her eye drenching her pillow wet.

“The first time I saw you, you smiled so beautifully. I’ve never knew it was possible for someone to look so happy.” He breathed into her back. “I thought if I had you, I could have it, too. But you gave me more. You always gave me more than I’ve ever had.”

His breath hitched and his warm breath pounced into her shirt. She felt the stain of his tears.

“Don’t leave me, Namjoo.” Sehun tightened his arm around her. Violently shaking from the wrath of his overdue emotions.

Clamping her eyes, Namjoo squeezed her pillow as Sehun’s pain echoed through her.

That next morning Sehun entirely changed.

From who he used to be.

From who he became after the attempt on his life.

This was her putting her life back together and losing it in one go. The carefully carried hand mirror now a trillion pieces on the floor. The kinds of things that happened after a particular life changing event.

What was once will never be the same.

None of it transpired through her when she felt Sehun’s arms around her in the kitchen that morning. Giving her a light squeeze then let go. They shared the first breakfast since breaking up. Sitting at the same side of her kitchen table. One look at the other conjuring a gleeful smile. Though Sehun had his own plate and his own spoon, Namjoo offered her spoonful to him.

“You, too.” Sehun scooped his spoon into his food and held it out for her. Opening , she graciously accepted.

They shared another smile that without asking and answering brought them back together.

“Take it easy.” Sehun her head then down her hair where his fingers combed through her hair.

“You’re still taking vacation?” Slipping into her shoes Namjoo turned around at the doorway.

“And I’ll clean.” He promised.

“Fair enough.” She beamed then subconsciously waited. Her eyes wound over him expectantly. The refrigerator hummed in the background. Partially soaking in the width of his shoulders stretching beneath the white t-shirt. Too ordinary a wear for him when she was too familiar with seeing him in a suit highlighting his slim figure.

Sehun didn’t reply. A kind of dilapidated smile on his face.

Blinking Namjoo firmly smiled. Assuming he had always done so much to lead her. Maybe now it was time for her to take the baton. Her turn to show him.

Tiptoeing, Namjoo planted a peck on his cheek. “I’ll be home soon.”

Then she left.

At work she Namjoo’s mind dove from work to Sehun at home. Curious what he was up to. This must be the first time in his life away from work. Resting. Relaxing, like a normal person. Without endless lists of duties on his plate. No need for him to extend workhours into the late mornings. Sitting alone in his gigantic office.

Of all the times he may have stared out the window, how deep the loneliness he felt. Or the hours he spent sleeping alone in his sixth-floor suite. Waking and returning to the office to repeat his cycle of life. Doing nothing but working because he had nothing else.

Sehun having nothing and no one.

Until the day he saw her.

Namjoo never understood the extent of love. That it could be so powerful.

Those months she’d spent with Sehun were the only times she’d seen him at the highest spectrum of happiness. She had done nothing but he had felt everything in one short moment with her.

Namjoo never knew it was possible that her mere existence could do something like that for another person.

Truly, she didn’t know.

How could she disappoint Sehun?

She wondered if he was dillydallying, waiting for her return. The exact way he always waited for her to come to his office. And she reminisced the delight crossing his expression always at the sight of her. Leaping out of his chair to squeeze her in his arms. Dip his face into her hair, tell her seeing her made everything better.

Rethinking it, Namjoo hadn’t been insightful enough to know. He literally meant it.

She was dense.

Packing up halfway through the afternoon, Namjoo left for home. Sehun was in the kitchen. Steam floating out of a pot on the stove. He was wearing one of her flowery aprons and looked silly. Grinning from the doorway Namjoo kicked her shoes off and joined him.

Standing beside him at the stove searching his face curiously Namjoo smiled. Tracing his fringe, she asked, “You went out?”

“For some fresh air.” His eyes were focused, away from her.

“I bet that was nice.”

Glancing at her he grinned. “It was.”

Breathing a smile, she watched him return to stirring the boiling pot of curry. Leaning into his arm and resting her head on his shoulder she wrapped an arm around him.

She shouldn’t have let one setback send her into a downward spiral impulsively.

“How is it?” she asked when he tasted the broth.

Smacking his lips Sehun’s eyes fluttered.

“Is it bland?” Namjoo wondered reaching for the spoon. “Let me taste it. I’ll help you fix it.”

“No, don’t.” he grappled for hold on the spoon when she claimed hold on it. They fought over it until she snatched the utensil from him. “I said don’t.” he sounded upset. “It’s salty. I don’t want you to eat it.”

Dipping the spoon into the curry, Namjoo led it to her lips. Carefully testing it for flavor. None of the spice came through. Blinking rapidly, she peered up at him. Sehun jot his eyes away embarrassed.

She comforted, “I’ll still eat it, ok?”

“You don’t have to.” Sehun mumbled.

“I’ll do it for you.” Namjoo smugly grinned. Starting toward the dishrack, she said, “I’ll set the table. Where do you want to sit?”

⸔⸕⸔⸕⸔⸕⸔⸕⸔⸕

Sehun opened his eyes to complete darkness. Sometime in the middle of the night. He didn’t know.

Cautiously turning he adjusted his eyes to the dark. Catching view of Namjoo asleep next to him. He waited for movement from her. Something, any sign to tell him she was going to awake upon sensing him stirring.

Nothing.

Carefully removing the blanket, he lifted his legs off the bed. Searching for ground and then eased to standing. Waiting again for some sign that Namjoo was waking.

Nothing but the soft of her breathing.

Quietly moving around the foot of the bed, Sehun touched the wall of her tiny walk-in closet. Patting his way to the door. Feeling every inch of the barrier until he touched the round knob. Twisting it open he stepped out. Leaving it a crack open he took the short walk into the kitchen.

Streaks of moonlight split in through the vertical blinds. An eerie white hue cascading across the floor of her living room. The light floated into the kitchen just barely.

Ice-cold water flushed down his throat. He allowed the cool to sink in, settle at the pit of his stomach. Placing the cup topside down into the sink Sehun left the kitchen. Not back to the bedroom but past it toward the window. Leaning into the wall Sehun pushed aside a white vinyl blind and peeked outside.

The entire world lit up magnificently. Sparkling yellow and white lights below. A mix of orange taillights zooming down the empty street to who knows where at this time. Sehun stared at the shadowy buildings. Tall, stubby, round top buildings, thin-point skinny.

A sense of nostalgia bubbled to the surface. Coming from someplace far away. Tasting the first fresh breeze that hit his tongue when he ran down the highway stretching miles out. Sceneries of nothing but gloomy trees on either side flashing by. Long time coming since he let himself remember.

Things not deserving.

And also, very long ago.

Yet ersely a part of him. Forever there. Etched into his bones.

Abruptly releasing the blind, he backtracked to the bedroom. Twisting the knob close. Easing the lock quietly into place, because he didn’t want to wake Namjoo. Returning to his place beside her he crept under the blanket, adjusting it over himself.

For a while he stared up at the ceiling. A gaping black hole. He couldn’t see anything anyway, but he stared at it. After long enough he shifted to Namjoo. Couldn’t tell if her back was to him. If she was facing him. He’d like to imagine she was in neither position.

Sehun imagined her on her back. Her head slightly twisted in his direction while her hair fanned around her head. A messy but pretty bundle of mess.

Thinking about her simply made his heart ache. He was happy.

But he ached.

Inside his chest, somewhere there it twisted and hurt.

For her.

Yet he loved her still.

***Sehun worked out to look fit and strong to make up for being weak and incapable. Sehun always asked to kiss her because he'd never been given the freedom of consent. Sehun saw the luck and happiness Namjoo possessed and wanted to touch and have it, because he never had it. She let him experience things he never did before and they were profound things he didn't want to lose. But now it's never going to be the same ;;