Three years into their relationship, Jinyoung still gets butterflies every time Dongwoo smiles at him, and something as small as Jinyoung’s hand on his shoulder still makes Dongwoo’s head spin. Radiating with love, exchanging little looks in public, fingers brushing over fingers, anyone who’s seen them would say they’re the very picture of a perfect couple. Right now, just settling in the little house they bought together in the suburbs, they’re happier than ever. Dongwoo, getting home from work early today, is preparing a nice dinner for the two of them and can’t hold back a smile of the thought of surprising Jinyoung. Jinyoung, exhausted after a long day at his office, is rushing home and can’t wait to hurl himself into the warmth and comfort of Dongwoo’s arms.

But sometimes things don’t go as planned. Jinyoung will never come home to Dongwoo and the steaming hot stew waiting on the table. Before seven, one of them will be dead.

 

 

17:01

Leaving the office now. Love you!

 

17:03

Come home safely. Love you too <3

 

 

Jinyoung grabs his jacket and waves at the receptionist on his way out. He runs down the stairs, eager to leave the cool, impersonal white-and-beige office building. Out on the street he gulps in the mild October air. It’s not quite as satisfying as it should be, filled with fumes from the busy traffic, cigarette smoke and something undefinable and putrid. His lips twitch a little. Barely a month into being a suburb resident, after more than five years living in central Seoul, he already feels out of place in the hectic city. Zigzagging thought the crowd he makes his way towards the subway station. The image of his kitchen, cosy and welcoming, makes his steps lighter. It has been a long day of tiring arguments over the phone with clients and business partners, and he has had to remind himself several times why he got into marketing. Didn’t he use to have a dream of making music? But his job offers a steady income, and he knows that as soon as he gets to cuddle up next to Dongwoo in the house it has helped paying for, it’ll all be worth it.

 

 

The pot beside him bubbles merrily while Dongwoo chops carrots. The stew he’s making is somewhat of his signature dish, and Jinyoung’s favourite. Lately, working long hours and moving, he hasn’t had time to make it because of the time it needs to boil. Their meals have mainly consisted of things that’ll take less than twenty minutes to prepare, and home delivery. Today, he had decided to not book any appointments in the afternoon and left early; a deserved treat after all the overtime he’s taken to get his own dentist practice going. The time until Jinyoung gets home will instead be spent on cooking a proper dinner for the two of them, as a surprise. It’s not much, but he’s sure Jinyoung will appreciate. He reaches a hand over to turn up the radio, singing along loudly to the song playing.

 

 

The man sitting opposite Jinyoung on the subway is staring at him with dazed, red eyes. He’s most likely drunk or high, or both. Jinyoung scowls back. Glaring even worse, the man raises his hand and with fumbling movements reaches inside his overcoat. A small bottle appears, and the man puts it to his lips. Jinyoung looks away, thinking about what he’ll do to Dongwoo once he’s home. The question is if he’ll even bother to make it to the bedroom. Absentmindedly he rolls his stiff neck and wonders if he should ask for a massage before or after he has set his more dirty plans to work.

The train slows down and comes to an halt. Jinyoung turns to the window to see if he has missed the fact that they’ve entered a station, but there’s still only the pitch black tunnel outside. There’s a scratching sound from the speakers, and a raspy voice starts speaking.

“We’re currently not given permission to continue onto the station for security reasons. We will keep you updated with any new information we receive.”

Jinyoung groans internally and hauls up his phone.

 

17:38

Might run a little late, stuck on the subway. If you just knew what I’ll do with you when I get home…

 

17:42

I can imagine. But it’ll have to wait a bit, I’ll have dinner ready when you come

 

Jinyoung smiles at the screen and Dongwoo’s sweetness. He can wait a little longer if it’s to eat dinner. Now that he thinks about it, his stomach is growling. The speakers crackle again, and Jinyoung looks up at it as if that will help him distinguish the cluttered words.

“Yes, there has been a report of a suspicious item at the station. It is being handled by security right now, and we will get back to you soon.”

18:45

Awesome, you’re the best! I’m starving

 

18:46

I know, love

 

“We’re waiting for a signal, but we’re expecting to be moving again within the next few minutes.”

And as promised, after a couple more minutes the train makes a swaying start.

 

18:50

Rolling. See you soon babe

 

 

Dongwoo puts his cell phone aside and grabs a spoon to taste the stew. Moving his hand a little too quickly from the pot to his mouth a few droplets spill from the spoon, and only then he remembers he hasn’t put on an apron. Small splashes of orangey red stains his shirt. He turns the heat on the stove down a bit so the food won’t boil over and goes into the bedroom to find a clean one.

The bed is still unmade, the sheets lying curled into a roll at one end. Dongwoo stretches them out, smoothing out the creases with his palms and goes on to fluff the pillows. Holding Jinyoung’s pillow he spontaneously lifts it to his face, sniffing it. It smells of Jinyoung. He washed his hair last night, and the scent of his shampoo still lingers on the fabric. Inhaling deeply he almost giggles at his own silliness. Jinyoung will be home in under half an hour. If he saw him standing here, smelling his pillow case, he’d laugh at him. Dongwoo buries his nose and his grin in the pillow.

 

 

The train ride home is always tedious, but today is worse than usual. There seems to be twice as many stops before his as there normally are, each stay dragging out for double the normal time. Finally arriving at his station Jinyoung hurries for the exit. As he’s passing the flower seller he stops, suddenly wanting to get something for Dongwoo. He doesn’t have much money on him and they won’t accept cards, but he finds enough coins in his pockets to buy something small. After some hesitation he picks out a single red rose, with countless petals that look velvety soft.

“For the wife?” the salesman asks him.

“Almost right,” Jinyoung answers cheerfully, handing him the money.

 

 

Dongwoo lets the rice cook, and goes to lay the table in the dining hall. The house is spacious, with more rooms than they really need. They had considered finding something smaller, but since it was still in their price range – if only just barely – they decided a few spare rooms wouldn’t do any harm. Who knows, maybe they’ll need the extra room one day. A few years down the road there might be more people living here. Dongwoo’s heart grows with a warm, longing sensation at the thought of filling the house with a little family of their own. It’s not a longing to adopt a child right away, but anticipation for when that day comes. Two or three children, at least one boy and one girl. He is actually excited to change diapers, stumble over toys and be waked early on Saturdays. In a few years. For now, he, Jinyoung and the cat is enough.

He throws an eye at the clock on the wall. It’s a quarter to seven, and Jinyoung should be home soon. Putting a few candles on the table he goes to find some matches.

 

 

With the rose in one hand Jinyoung walks quickly down the broad streets towards his house. It’s almost completely dark, but the sky has yet to turn from deep blue to black. His jacket is a little too thin for the cool evening, and he fastens his steps further. As he’s reaching a crossroad his phone buzzes in his pocket. Looking at it he notices two things: it’s a number he doesn’t recognize, and it’s 18:59 already. He’s later than he thought, and doesn’t slow down to answer his phone but hurries out onto the road.

He sees the car too late. Blinding lights are rushing towards him, and Jinyoung doesn’t even have time to think if it will hurt, or if it will be over quickly, or if he can survive it.

The car comes to a screeching stop just next to his legs. The driver waves his fist angrily at him, and Jinyoung gives him an apologetic bow before running up on the sidewalk on the other side. The phone is still vibrating stubbornly in his hand, and he slides a finger over it to answer.

A panicked voice shouts in his ear. “Come home as fast as you can. It’s your house, it’s on fire! The firemen are on their way but…”

Jinyoung has stopped listening. He doesn’t know how, but he breaks into a run. He can’t think, can’t see. All he hears is his feet smattering against the asphalt and his own ragged breath.

 

It’s all a blur. The heath on his face. Yellow and orange flames the walls. A fire truck parked in front of their lawn. Thick, black smoke blending into the darkness. His own shouts, sounding distant as if they were someone else’s. Strong hands holding him back as he struggles to get to the door. Someone holding him tightly around the shoulders. A low, remorseful voice.

“We’re sorry. “

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

Why am i doing this to myself? To Shinwoo? To Jinyoung? 

cries

Poor Jinyoungie, what will happen to him now...

cries more

Maybe i'll just have to write a sequel