A Little Damaged.

There was a sturdy yet mellow hum of the cold city morning accompanied with faint yet blaring honks and groans of Monday people. She lazily gazed out to the open as the sky began interchanging from a golden red to a mellow orange and then to a beautiful clear blue while she began her morning stretches. Just as she did, the sliding doors beside hers opened and her half-awake neighbor began rubbing his eyes and joined her.

“Good morning,” she began to signal to him, “Had a good night sleep?”

He answered with dead beat smile and began to massage his shoulder, “Are we having breakfast at yours or mines?”

“Come over then Jongin,” she gestured to him and pointed to her elbow and began moving her fist in circular forms to indicate, “Coffee and biscuits.”

A smile crept up on his sluggish face and he quickly went inside. Soojung chuckled in amusement. It had almost been 2 years since she found out about his impairment and soon after they finally became friends; Almost inseparable.

Each morning they would start the day with their early stretches and then take in turns to prepare breakfast for each other. They would meet up for lunch and then once again take turns to prepare dinner. Even during classes Soojung couldn’t get rid of him. He would send text messages which would usually be of how boring, torturous, dull, and hard his classes were. She wished he would stop irritating her but she couldn’t help smile inwardly and reply back to his miseries. On the outside he maybe seemingly aloof, but hell, he was one lost boy.

Soojung wasn’t sure what it was. She was sure it wasn’t just friendship.  But she couldn’t decide if it was it.

She was sure he wasn’t it during the semester break when Suzy went and she was working her off to feed herself. It was a typical summer’s morning and Soojung was aching for something sweet.

“Jongin-ah,” she called out as she threw a few knocks on the door. Without a second later he opened the door and a naughty grin flew upon his face.

“Soojung-ah,” he grinned and gestured her to come in, “What may I do for you on this lovely day?”

“Cakes,” she signaled a flat palm and the other palm in a claw manner, “Let’s make cakes.”

His shoulders instantly fell and an innocently little pout appeared on his pulp lips, “Cake?”

“Yes, cake,” she spelled it out this time, “Shall we make cake? Cupcakes maybe?”

“Why on earth would you make cakes?” Jongin dragged himself onto the sofa and slouched, “Those nasty sweet things.”

Soojung frowned. She loved cakes and sweet things and she now knew that forcing him to make them was the same as digging a hole and burying herself in it. Nevertheless, she wanted cake, and cake she will get.

“You already promised that today we would cook something I want,” she pouted and ushered him to scoot over, “I want cakes.”

“Cook and bake are entirely different things Soojung,” he sighed. For one thing, Jongin was a er for her puppy eyes that twinkled while she blinked flirtingly at him. He gave up rather quickly before pulling her to the kitchen counter, “Teach me then.”

She skipped happily over to the cupboard and bought out a couple of ingredients that were needed and settled them in front of him. He tapped him bottom lip out of boredom as she gave a slight cough.

“I’m sure you can crack those eggs on your own right?” she pointed and he responded with a heavy nod as he began to crack them into a bowl, “Now I’ll leave you with the icing while I do the batter. Read the instructions of the back of the box.”

“Instructions? Psh.”

She pushed the ingredients towards him and turned to the eggs and whisked them. A little while later she added the flour and the other ingredients. She casually checked on him in between the mixing and nodded in delight as he too seemed to be indulging into baking. Once finished, she popped the cake into the oven and settled herself beside Jongin.

“Let me taste it,” she smirked and popped her finger into the icing. Her face instantly soured and she spat it all out, “What the hell did you do?”

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s disgusting.”

“Really?”

“Have you tried tasting it?”

“I don’t taste my food.”

“Jongin-ah,” she whined and threw out the whole icing. It turned out that instead of using milk, he mixed it with water and hence the sour face. Soojung liked men who could cook, which includes surprising her with tooth aching cakes and sweets. So maybe he wasn’t it.

Maybe he was it, Soojung lingered over the question during the first few weeks of the semester when she came back from classes and witnessed him at the bottom of the stairway, looking troubled. She heaved a long sigh and decided to settle herself beside the upset fellow.

“Problem?” she nudged him lightly in the shoulders as she pointed to her ears, “I’m listening.”

Like it was a natural habit, he slid his head onto her shoulders and unknowingly pouted, “My dad came over today. He said that I wasn’t listening to him again.”

“He doesn’t know?” Soojung gestured, “Why haven’t you told him yet?”

“He knows but still insists that I’m doing this to purposely annoy him. He said he wouldn’t let me undergo the ear surgery unless I agree to quit and start working with him at the company,” he continued to explain, “It’s hard enough that my classes mostly require utterly brilliant hearing skills.”

“But you can still compose music on the piano,” she signaled, “You play beautifully.”

“With music I can feel the vibrations,” he elucidated, “With voices there are resounding silence. When people are yelling or screaming, only then can I feel vibrations.”

She wrapped her hand over his head and the other rested on his hand. “You must be having a hard time,” she whispered and even though she knew he couldn’t hear, she knew he would understand that she was going to have his back.

“I miss your voice,” he grinned and nuzzled deeper into her neck, “The last thing I heard before everything went silent was your voice screaming ‘Jongin, I’m going to kill you if you don’t shut off the damned music’.”

His smiled disappeared when he slowly dampened her neck and whispered once more, “If I could hear once again, I would love to hear you laugh. I’ve never been able to hear you laugh.”

Her lips arched into a smile and a chortle escaped her lips as she recalled the last year in which she had nearly lost her voice trying to speak to him.

But then she decided he wasn’t it during mid autumn when he barged into her house and flopped onto the large yellow beanbag beside her, “Life is ing unfair.”

“Jongin,” she glowered, “Mind your mouth.” It was a known fact that she despised men who swore. Back home she despised the alcoholic smelling neighbor who used to swear every day when the paper boy threw the newspaper slightly missing his face.

He threw back his shoulder and continued to share his mid life crisis, “I haven’t even skipped any of my classical music classes and I get a ing C-.”

“Please do not swear,” she threatened him for the nth time and was sure it was more than the count of the fingers on both her hands. But then she remembered that he cannot hear and neither can he see that she was trying to communicate with him as he was too busy dwelling on his unfair life.

“I swear to God that hates me. She intentionally wanted me to fail. She talks way too fast and I can’t lip read that well yet,” he blabbered on, “Seriously someone should sue her for being so biased.”

Soojung tapped her fingers on his broad shoulders and raised an eyebrow to indicate that he wasn’t listening.

“Were you saying something Jung?” he tilted his head and flashed an ashen smile.

She could sense that he was aggravated. Who wouldn’t be? Not being able to listen in classes and getting C’s for not being able to hear the music notes was more than infuriating. Instead of getting angry, she patted his bushy hair and signaled, “I’m all ears.”

She decided that he wasn’t it because he swore, not occasionally, but often.  

During a below negative freezing winter, she once more questioned on what it was. She was standing at the front his door wrapped in more than 3 layers of clothing and a pink and white knitted scarf she received from Suzy last year complete with fluffy red ear muffs. He was having a hard time getting the right key with the thick wooly gloves and cursed the weather for not being cooperative.

“Come in quickly,’ he ushered her inside once the door swung open and quickly the heating, “This has to be the coldest winter ever. Shall we have coffee while we wait for Suzy?”

She couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering and decided to respond with a heavy nod. He wouldn’t hear anyway and she began to learn to respond with actions rather than words. The hot steaming milk coffee in tall mugs arrived not long after and both of them settled themselves on the high chair near the kitchen counter.

It was exactly how she liked her coffee; three sugars and two to one ratio of milk and coffee with extra whipped cream on top. Her fingers took a dip into the unfathomable amount of cream and them off in delight. As soon as he saw the joy on her face, he too began to imitate her by dig into his cream, dipping his fingers carefully down until it reached the top of the coffee and them off. Although it was undeniably chilly on the outside, she couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside. 

It wasn’t the fact that he knew exactly how to make her coffee that made her question whether it was it. It was the fact that having him as company was more than enough to make her smile. Maybe she was starting to fall for him.

It was a blazing hot summer when she stepped into his house to borrow some milk. She carefully knocked on the wooden door and when no one answered, she trawled in her pockets for the keys to his apartment and let herself through.  At the sight of the apartment, she once again she questioned her sanity in liking such a boy. The endless amount of shoes were messily stacked in front of the door, making it almost impossible to get through. Once she survived into the living room and joined kitchen, she was more mortified at the clothes lying on the floor and the unwashed plate’s mounting in the sink. She took a whiff of the room and quickly regretted as the smell was enough to make her question his sanity of being able to live in such chaos.

It was a known fact that Soojung was a tidy and meticulous person. Her books were alphabetically coordinated on the bookshelves and her clothes were neatly categorized by type and colour. Even with a speck of dust, she would nag Suzy all day and mumble to herself about self cleanliness. Jongin and Soojung were worlds apart.

She decided that if he was it, he would definitely have to change this atrocious habit of his. After looking around the apartment for Jongin, she finally found him sound asleep right next to the open fridge. She giggled when she saw that he had stripped to his boxers and had both his hands and legs partially inside the fridge. She gave him a slow kick twice before he blinked his eyes and turned to face her. He blinked a few more times before realizing that he was only wearing a one piece and stumbled to his bedroom, whilst tripping over the objects and clothes lying around, to slip himself into something more appropriate.

“Jung?” he drew a bashful smile after sliding into a pair of blue quarters and white wife beaters.

“Milk,” she mouthed and pointed towards the fridge, “Can I have some?”

“Guilt?” he raised an eyebrow before reaching for a glass of milk. As he gulped the last remaining drop of milk and his lips, she crossed her arms and wore on an irate expression, “What?”

She took the magnetic alphabet on the door of his fridge and began to spell the words. She waited until his face understood and let out a small laugh, “Oops.”

She heaved a long sigh and decided to retreat to her very own little abode. She was even more irritated when Jongin didn’t even have second thoughts of trying to beg for forgiveness and smiled innocently as he opened the door for her.

She opened the bare cupboards in the kitchen and slumped herself on the sofa when she couldn’t find an inch of food anywhere. End of semesters were not kind. Her money was almost finished and taking up more part time jobs was out of the question since classes were practically feeding off her time. She looked at the semi filled dry bowl filled with her favourite golden yellow cornflakes and pouted in annoyance.

“Jung?” a small but sincere whimper was heard alongside a soft knock on the mahogany door.

She gritted her teeth and decided she didn’t want to see him right that moment. The silence came between them. A few seconds later she heard a jingle of keys and the creaks of the floorboards behind her. His shadow casted over her and a pair of hands threw itself in front of her.

“Low fat milk, strawberry milk, chocolate milk, banana milk, coffee milk and even yoghurt milk,” he slowly took the cartons of one by one and situated them beside her to spell out the words SORRY with a huge heart sign written in black pen. A grin engulfed her once angry face and she quickly yelped to her feet and crushed him with a hug, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” she happily poured the milk into her bowl and began munching away, “Once you clean your apartment. I bet even vermin can’t live there.” His face could only darken and drag himself away.

Ok, so maybe she did hate him but in a way she also liked him.

Her final answer came during the end of semester when they were giving their bitter farewells. Suzy had gone the day before, leaving both of them sitting on the newspaper covered sofa in the room full of boxes.

“Soojung-ah,” he nudged her stomach, “My surgery is in three weeks.”

“That’s great. I’m happy that your father has finally stopped your suffering,” she flashed a hopeful smile. She noticed his face wasn’t that cheerful as it should be, “What’s with the gloomy face?”

“Can you come see me?”

She knew she should’ve said no. Her situation would’ve said no. But she said, “Yes.” With knowing that she would have to sweat blood in the three weeks to pay for the tickets to his hometown, she said yes anyway. A small chuckle left her lips as she slowly slipped her fingers in between his, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Jongin tore away her fingers and began to tap them slowly on her palms; and each tapped exactly matched the beat of her heart.

So maybe he swore and maybe he was awful in baking and shed his clothes like a snake. But then again, maybe we are all a little damaged, inside.