Spilled Milk

Kai/Oc (Oneshot)

"You're always screwing things up!"

Glass shatters on the wood floor, tiny pieces of cinnamon toast crunch and milk sweeping past their bare feet.

"I- I'm sorry..." Soohwa stutters and crouches down on bruised knees, dainty fingers reaching out to gather the pieces of the broken cereal bowl.

Their moments aren't always like this. Only on some days.

Mornings after the nights he returns home late and tired, if he returns at all.

The recently debuted singer is a busy man now, and he doesn't have time for love. Kisses are long gone and the halls of their tiny apartment are absent of laughter. His side of the bed is always made and his clothes are missing from the closet.

It's rarity for him to be there, so Soohwa says nothing and obeys. She takes the harsh treatment with a unwavering smile and reminds him that she loves him.

Jongin frowns, watching the petite girl cutting her fingers on slivers of shattered glass. Little droplets of scarlet mixing with white, and it reminds him of blood on snow.

With a click of his tongue, he reaches out and pulls her onto her feet. "You'll hurt yourself, idiot."

She looks down, chestnut irises trained on the floor, and quietly whimpers, "I'm sorry."

Moment later he sets her up on the bathroom counter and patches up her bleeding fingers.

And, when he turns away from her to return the first aid kit to the emergency cabinet, she leans her forehead against his back and whispers that she's "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

But, what did she do wrong? His temper lately is so short and he goes off at random, unable to control the insults that leave his lips, like it's the most natural thing to say to someone that you love. Yet, still Soohwa bows her head in apology and takes the blame for everything. She excepts the criticism like praise and smiles at him.

"I love you."

But, Jongin can't say anything. The words gets trapped in his throat and he leaves her hanging, the way he always does. "I know."

What more is there to say?

When the confession won't leave your lips, and you start to take as a sign that maybe you don't anymore.

And four crisp, winter days later those words are lost forever. They're drowned out by screaming and the sound of metal crunching into metal in a sickening sound. And, all that Jongin can remember is an agreement over the cell phone, as her car speeds just a bit too quickly over the icy concrete. Voices are raised and his bellow resounds against her ears.

"Why cant you ever do anything right?!" And she tells him in a pleading tone that she's trying.

The traffic isn't her fault, he knows, but anger overpowers all the lives and breathes, and he tells her she's useless.

A remark that he never recovers from, even for years past that day, as a piercing scream resounds through the receiver, shrilling against his ears. And, her life becomes punctuated by the sound tires screeching and a car horn blaring, and ---CRASH!! ......and then static.

Scarlet splatters over white, angry blotches of crimson on ivory, and paints the world in red. Blood on snow.

Six years later, Jongin counts the falling snowflakes with disdain and frowns, cursing them silently.

He finds that the thick, winter coat he'd worn this morning, provided little protection from the freezing wind. It practically blew through him as he stood over the plain, grey headstone. He rubs his gloved hands together and adjusts his scarf. The smoke of his cigarette clouding the air, like a puff of breath. He inhales and the icy, winter air burns him to the core. Had she been this cold that day?

"I love you."