The gentle sound of water filled the bathroom as Yongguk cupped liquid in his hand and softly poured it over his wife’s bare shoulders. He could feel the boniness under her transparent skin, and he tried not to focus on her spine, that was jutting out gruesomely in her back. She shuddered as the warm water hit her skin, taking in a sharp breath. Yongguk had carefully pinned her long hair up so that it wouldn’t get wet. He had set her crimson splattered nightgown on the edge of the white bathtub.

The water was red, blood that stained her body seeping into it, dying it morbidly. He watched as the soiled water rippled against the stark white porcelain of the bathtub, slowly setting a relaxing pulse for Jieun’s eyes to follow. Her eyes were vacant and hollow, as if she wasn’t aware that it was Yongguk who was bathing her. Yongguk watched as his wife brought her knees even closer to her chest and began nibbling them. Her body jerked violently as she suppressed another coughing fit; but blood seeped from the sides of and dripped into the water. He exhaled softly, wondering why he hadn’t seen it earlier. Why he hadn’t forced Jieun to tell him. But his heart sank as he realized that he wasn’t in love with Jieun anymore, and he had disconnected himself from her so much that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. Her grey skin, sunken eyes, and frail body. He had been unable to register the signs of illness. She had suffered in silence, making Yongguk’s guilt cup around his throat, as if to choke him. His eyes burned with shame as he set them on Jieun.

“I want to go home.” Jieun’s voice seemed to crawl painfully out of the back of , and claw its way past her chapped lips.

“Yes, dear. I’ll take you home.” Yongguk repeated his soft motions of pouring warm water over her back. He knew what she meant. She wanted to return to her parents’ estate in Rouen up north. It wasn’t too far from Paris by car, Yongguk thought, and they could stop there and have a doctor help them first.

“I want to take Youngjae.” She rocked softly back and forth. The candle light illuminating her face showed a look of confusion as her eyebrows knitted together and her eyes came in focus. “Youngjae…He’s gone! Yongguk, Youngjae is gone!” Her pupils dilated in fear and her hands scraped the sides of the tub with deafening noises. They slipped and Yongguk tried to hold her down.

“Youngjae is here. Shh.. Youngjae is here.” Yongguk kept applying pressure to her shoulders, keeping her from flailing out of the bathtub. “Let me get him for you.”

Yongguk helped Jieun out of the tub as if she was made of glass. Her body was so thin he thought he could snap her with his fingers.  He wrapped a large navy blue towel over her exposed skin and sat her down on the stool by the boudoir. She followed his movements without expression, unsure how to distinguish between reality and hallucination.

Jieun nodded and turned her sight in front of her, not taking it off of the blank wall. Yongguk sat up, feeling a soreness spread through his previously crouched legs. He shook them out gently and fumbled through the darkness and into their bedroom. He cursed silently at himself for not lighting any candles in their room.

The silent air around him was making him uneasy. He strained his ears for subtle breathing or soft sighs, but he heard nothing. His fingers tingled as he approached the small blue crib, carefully avoiding the crimson puddle. He widened his eyes and bent over the wooden bars to look at his son. He reached down and felt a pillow under the pads of his fingers. A pillow that should have been at Youngjae’s side, not on top of his face. Yongguk’s blood turned to ice and his movements came to halt. Drawing a sharp breath, he removed the pillow and pressed his finger under Youngjae’s nose. Youngjae didn’t squirm or show any sign of acknowledging Yongguk. There was no air escaping his soft nose, either.

Gone. Youngjae was gone.

He had died at the hands of the one who brought him into this world. It was a disgusting twist of irony that made Yongguk’s blood boil with pure anger.  He shakily picked up his son, who weighed no more than a leaf, and brought him against his chest in vain hope that his heat would reanimate him. Sudden tears stained his cheeks and landed on top of Youngjae’s lifeless head. His breathing became shallow and he allowed himself to cry, hugging Youngjae even more tightly.

"Youngjae." His voice quivered. “Youngjae, wake up." His heart sank and a sudden grip of anger overtook him.

He was angry at himself for not spending more time with his son. He was angry that he had brought this down on him. He had lost his son, and it hurt knowing that he never took the time to show exactly how much he cared. Now Youngjae was gone and there was now way to get him back.

*

The hotel lobby was silent at this time of night. The bartender was rinsing out cups and greeted Yongguk with a tired wave. But Yongguk was too focused on getting to Himchan. He approached room fifty-one with heavy steps, taking in the white numbers that glowed yellow under the lights, before brutally opening it. The wooden cracking sound of the door pleased Yongguk as he pushed past it mercilessly and walked into the tiny room.

Much to his surprise, Himchan was sitting on the edge of the small bed, feet flat on the floor. The lights were still on and the window was wide open. A cool summer breeze flowed in quietly, gently brushing strands of Himchan’s hair from his face.

Himchan’s feline eyes locked with Yongguk’s. They glimmered with happiness and passion, but the spark was muffled when he saw Yongguk wasn’t returning his emotions. Yongguk watched as his dark eyes slowly clouded in confusion, darting back and forth across Yongguk’s body, as if trying desperately to read him.

“What have you done, Himchan?” Yongguk growled and took steps towards his lover.

“Yongguk I don’t under-“ Himchan was abruptly cut off by Yongguk’s hands clamping around his throat. His hands were slightly stained red from the bath with Jieun, adding a frightening element to his actions.

“You took him away!” Yongguk tensed his arm and pinned Himchan back on the bed. He watched as Himchan squirmed under him, gasping for air. Himchan’s fingers wrapped around Yongguk’s hand, trying desperately to pry it off. “You planned this along didn’t you?” Yongguk spat.

Himchan shook his head and tried to wriggle out of Yongguk’s grip. Yongguk felt Himchan’s abdomen heave under his arm as it desperately tried to in air. He watched as Himchan’s expression contorted in pain, his black eyes squeezing shut.

“I lost everything because of you. Everything.” Yongguk dug his fingers deeper into Himchan’s flesh. He tightened his fingers around his throat until Himchan couldn’t even make a sound. His lover stopped flailing underneath him. Yongguk watched as Himchan’s face slowly became purple; beads of sweat shined as they reflected the cheap light of the bulb. His eyes shot open, revealing crystal tears that spilled down the side of his face and stained the bed sheets below him. Yongguk watched the scene with empty eyes and an empty heart. He peered into Himchan’s eyes once again, the eyes he had adored so much, and saw Himchan slowly slipping away.

Suddenly, Himchan’s hand slowly raised itself into the air. He reached out gently and caressed Yongguk’s face. The bourgeois flinched. He had expected Himchan to try to fight him off in a final attempt; but he was surprised to find that Himchan was gently cupping his face; tears of regret slipping from his eyes. Himchan’s pink lips moved in apology or confession; Yongguk couldn’t tell, but his wide eyes took in the sight, and his mind snapped. The soft skin shocked Yongguk and he loosened his grip on Himchan’s throat. He shook his head vigorously before taking his whole hand off of his lover’s throat. He felt a tug in his stomach and crumbled to the floor, letting tears sting his cheeks. Himchan gasped loudly as he inhaled air.

“I’m sorry Himchan. I’m.” Yongguk pressed his back against the bedside, feeling the corners poking at his side. His eyes darted back and forth as if he was seeing the room for the first time. He looked at the door, broken, and wondered why. He had blamed Himchan for taking everything from him, when in reality, he had just been on the verge of taking Himchan, who meant the world to Yongguk, from himself. 

Yongguk’s ears picked up Himchan’s thick swallowing and the slight creaking of the bed as he neared him.

“He’s dead.” 

A silence shrouded the room as Yongguk’s words seeped into the walls.  He could feel Himchan’s eyes burn into the back of his neck in inquisition. Himchan shifted lightly on the bed, the sheets ruffling and filing the suffocating silence as they both contemplated what their next words would be.

“Who?”

“I killed him, Himchan.” Yongguk sighed breathily, trying to contain his tears.

“Yongguk, please, tell me who.” Himchan, his voice still hoarse, leaned over the edge of the bed, his hands hovering hesitantly over Yongguk’s broad shoulders.

“My son.” Yongguk whispered as if he was afraid God would hear him.

“Youngjae?” Himchan already knew the answer, but his disbelief pushed the words from his mouth.

“I pushed Jieun to the edge, Himchan.” Yongguk tilted his head back, letting the tears burn his cheeks with guilt, shame and salt. He felt Himchan’s soft porcelain hands graze his neck and trace his shoulders with such tenderness, he felt he didn’t deserve these kind touches. “I’m the reason he’s dead. It’s not her fault.”

Himchan’s fingers dug themselves gently into Yongguk’s skin as he massaged his shoulders. He felt Himchan’s warm breath tickle his neck as he tried to comfort his lover. “What happened exactly, Yongguk?”

Yongguk shut his eyes, the nightmare from earlier replaying vividly. “Jieun found our letters and she…snapped. She’s sick Himchan. She’s losing her grip on reality, and this just confused and hurt her. And Youngjae-“ Yongguk’s voice broke. “Youngjae suffered.” Yongguk hadn’t realized how much his son had meant to him. He had never dedicated much time to him; these instances were rare amongst the rich elite, nannies did all the work, but Yongguk still felt a sort of pride whenever he was with Youngjae.  

“You couldn’t have known how she was going to react.” Himchan murmured.

Yongguk stayed silent, refusing to look at Himchan. The gnawing feeling of regret was beginning to wash over him. He wanted to tilt back the sands of time, cut the string of fate, so that he and Himchan would have never met on that night in May.  Not meeting Himchan would have kept his life flat and passionless; but the pain and fear of losing Himchan at any moment was almost becoming too much to bear.

“We can’t choose who we fall in love with.” Himchan added silently, as if reading Yongguk’s mind.

Yongguk climbed onto the cot, between Himchan’s legs. He was not used to being comforted.  His head fell on Himchan’s slender chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat pulse rhythmically against his ear. “I’m in so much pain.” Yongguk admitted. Himchan s his arms around Yongguk, letting his warmth invade the older. Yongguk nestled his head in the crook of Himchan’s bruised neck. With timid fingers, he reached up to touch the blemished skin. Why was it that he hurt everyone he loved? He ran his fingers gently over the painful blue wounds that marked Himchan’s skin. “Take the pain away.” Yongguk whimpered; unsure if he wanted to make the painful spots on his lover’s neck disappear with the touch of his finger, or if he wanted Himchan to alleviate the hurt that consumed his heart and mind in this instant. 

Himchan kissed Yongguk’s temple with all the tenderness in the world. Yongguk looked up into Himchan’s perfect eyes as if he was seeing an angel. There was not an ounce of disappointment in his lover’s eyes. They were like two black universes that contained depthless and unconditional love for Yongguk. The older knew he was undeserving of such adoration, but he couldn’t help himself from getting lost in them.

Time became abstract as they sat in warm embrace together, listening to the nighttime sounds of Bordeaux and the occasional buzz of the cheap light bulb.

“I’m sorry.” Yongguk broke their liquid silence.  He kissed the bruise marks, shaped like his fingers, on Himchan’s neck.  “None of this is your fault.”

“I fell in love with you, didn’t I?” Himchan’s soft laugh made his Adam’s apple bubble under Yongguk’s trembling lips. “Kind of is my fault.”

Yongguk dropped his gaze to observe Himchan’s slender fingers that were soothingly his wrist. When Yongguk raised his eyes again, he noticed silent silver tears trickling down Himchan’s milk white skin.  He reached up and wiped the tears. He cupped his lover’s face, feeling the wetness of the tears on the hot palm of his hand. His opened his mouth to speak, but Himchan kissed him.

Yongguk melted against Himchan’s lips, letting his mind wander far from the little hotel room, away from Bordeaux.  A white bliss bathed his thoughts, as he felt the feathery texture of Himchan’s mouth. He let his fingers wander into Himchan’s dark hair, weaving in and out of the fine strands.  Strings of apologies formed webs in Yongguk’s mind; apologies that would never be enough to fix the pain he had inflicted on Himchan, but that he felt he owed to his patient lover. A low moan from Himchan dissolved the webs and egged Yongguk to fall deeper into the kiss.

Yongguk gently wiped Himchan’s tears, although he couldn’t keep his own from falling, their saltiness stinging his raw and swollen lips. With a gentle hand on Himchan’s trembling chest, he pushed him back on the bed. Yongguk broke the kiss, lingering for a moment above Himchan, observing his dark eyes that formed two black crescents on his face. 

Yongguk hung his head in the crook of Himchan’s neck, panting lightly. His eyes flickered over the hideous marks he had left in his blind fury. The bluish-purple tint that seemed to spread slowly across the white stretch of skin served as a bitter reminder to Yongguk. Himchan hadn’t deserved it.

Himchan tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck even more, showing how much trust he put in Yongguk. His closed eyes, like blind trust, taunted Yongguk. Without further hesitation, Yongguk gently kissed Himchan’s neck, soothingly, over the marks, as if the kisses would dissolve the bruises. But they didn’t, and they didn’t help to sew the hole in his heart from losing Youngjae. Frustrated, he trailed his kisses from Himchan’s neck to his sharp jawline, keeping the marks out of sight, out of mind. 

As if Himchan was made of glass, Yongguk tilted his chin back up to kiss him passionately. He groaned at the taste of his lover’s strawberry lips, relishing the delicate tremble of Himchan’s lower lip as Yongguk passed his tongue over it. He flinched in surprise as Himchan sank his teeth in his lower lip, nibbling gently, sending shivers down Yongguk’s spine.

Himchan’s fingers, like ice, traced the side of Yongguk’s torso, acting to the numb the buzzing feelings of shame and sadness that plagued his body and soul. He trembled at their icy touch but welcomed them and bit his lip to keep from grunting in shock. Himchan’s fingers danced over Yongguk’s hot skin and filled every inch of bare skin with their ice touch. Yongguk kissed Himchan’s nose innocently, as if Himchan’s hands weren’t roaming ersely across his chest. He smirked as he saw the pleading look in Himchan’s eyes, the same pleading look that had drawn Yongguk to him when they first met. Himchan begged for Yongguk to melt into him, for Yongguk to pour his trust in him. He desperately wanted to dissolve the pain in Yongguk’s heart. His feline eyes were wide and inviting, a warm contrast to his fingers that were now leaving fine trails of pink on his back. Yongguk felt himself give in to Himchan. His body grew tired and his mind collapsed on thoughts of Himchan, because in that moment he was the only one who mattered to him.

Yongguk took his lips off of Himchan, sliding his own fingers around the collar of Himchan’s shirt, ing it slowly. He never grew tired of the sight of Himchan’s pure white chest. He straightened his arms, to observe Himchan’s torso.

“Closer.” Himchan whimpered, not liking the distance that Yongguk had created in observing him. With strong arms, he pulled Yongguk closer until their chests barely touched.  He kept his arms wrapped around Yongguk, out of fear that they would be separated again.

Yongguk shared the same fear as Himchan. He planted soft kisses on Himchan’s chest, enjoying the smooth feel of Himchan’s skin beneath them. Himchan’s angelic eyes were fixed on Yongguk, his eyelids growing heavy with lust as Yongguk trailed lower and lower, not showing any signs of stopping any time soon.

*

Time laughed cruelly at them as it ticked by quickly, calling in the first rays of sunlight. It pointed its bony finger at the couple, and mocked their pain, as it repeatedly reminded them of their biggest fear; the fear that come morning they’d have to inevitably separate.