Doorbell
Man of His Dreams
The following week was hell for Jaejoong. He would wake up from a fretful night, and slowly turn himself into a disheveled train wreck throughout the day, before finally collapsing in his bed, only to find that Yunho still wasn’t talking to him. It was a vicious cycle that left him more and more drained as the week went by. Dimly counting the hours until he could go to sleep, hoping from the pit of his stomach that the other would finally come back, and waking up to disappointment and pain every morning.
Every night he would think, "Maybe this is the day. Maybe tonight Yunho would finally forgive me, and he would come back."
No. He knew what a ridiculous notion that was. Yunho would have to be crazy to forgive what Jaejoong had said to him. Who would forgive him after he spouted those hateful words?
Every morning, Jaejoong would stay in his bed for a few hours after waking up, with his mind replaying the scene over and over in his head. He would think what he did wrong, and mentally kick himself. He’d think of thousands of scenarios of how it could have gone better, or what he could have done. Then he would open his journal, and re-read what had written. What he said to the other. How he pushed him away. Jaejoong would get that lump in his throat that he would force down, and the crying process would start over again.
He was in the middle of one of his crying sessions when something rang. Jaejoong stopped, listening for a moment. He hiccuped. Another ding. It was the doorbell. Jaejoong picked up his body, feeling like it weighed a couple thousand tons, when really, he lost a dangerous amount of weight for the timespan of a week.
When his feet hit the floor, the prickling cold shot up his legs and he groaned. Jaejoong had to give himself a moment for his feet to adapt to the sudden temperature change. Another impatient ring and Jaejoong sighed. Who the hell is ringing his door so urgently at this time in the morning? Jaejoong glanced at his clock. It was 10 AM. Oh well, it's early for him.
Jaejoong launched his body forward, and stumbled into the wall next to it, banging his nose in the process. He mumbled a whine, rubbing his nose and then wiping any trace of him crying while he walked to the door. Another ring, just five steps from the door. Jaejoong sighed, scratching his back and yawning as he reached for the door.
What awaited him on the other side was someone who he never expected, yet always yearned to expect. In one swift motion, Yunho leaned in and pecked a kiss on his lips. Jaejoong didn’t even register it.
“Did you just—”
“I need to leave.” Jaejoong wanted to apologise, but the anxiousness in the other’s voice sent out alarms, not to mention the fact that he just popped up out of nowhere.
“Why? Did something happen?” Yunho looked behind him, before taking a step forward and embracing him. It was quick, and not at all how Jaejoong had imagined it would be. There was no warmth in the tight touch.
“Yes, something did happen. I—” Yunho stopped, contemplation dancing on his face. He sighed, before giving in. “I’ve been found. Really found, I mean.” Yunho shook his head as soon as he saw confusion setting in Jaejoong’s face. “It’s too dangerous, so I’m leaving.”
Jaejoong took a step back, appalled at the very thought of Yunho leaving. He had finally come back. “What?” Then he remembered back at the art museum. The cuts and bruises. Yunho even looked like he was choked. Jaejoong guessed it was the same people.
“I want you to come with me. No doubt that they’ve found you.” Yunho grabbed his hands, pleading with his entire body.
“Where are you going?”
“France. Please say you’ll come with me?” Why all the way in Europe?
“Who are these people? Why are they making you run?” Yunho sighed.
“There’s not making me do anything.” Yunho looked into Jaejoong’s eyes, still pleading. “Please?”
Jaejoong didn’t know what to do. Everything was coming at him at once. Just five minutes ago he was weeping on his bed, pleading to whoever was listening to bring Yunho back. Now he’s back and asking to run away together. Jaejoong walked over to his couch and took a seat, Yunho taking the spot next to him. The other still held on to his hand, and he could see through the corner of his eyes how fidgety he was.
“How long will you be gone?” Jaejoong asked, not bothering to turn his head.
“A few months. I need to make sure they lose me.” He couldn’t do it. He has an art exhibit coming up, and he knows for a fact there’s going to be more people this time around. After his last exhibit, he gained a lot more followers on his social media, and even a few calls about when the next one was. He figured after probably the dozenth call that he actually made it in. He wasn’t “starving” anymore.
Jaejoong sighed. “I can’t. As much as I want to follow you, I can’t.” Yunho slouched, obviously hurt by his decision.
What came next was unexpected. “Why not?” That voice wasn’t the voice of someone hurt. That was the voice of someone who felt betrayed, and someone who’s trying to cover his emotions. Jaejoong wasn’t used to seeing Yunho like this, in their time dreaming together.
“Work, Yunho. Art exhibit? Ring a bell?” The warmth from his hand he forgotten was now gone, and Yunho looked like was getting ready to leave. “Where I you going?” Jaejoong stood.
“Leaving, like I said before.” The other made his way to the door, but Jaejoong grabbed his hand to stop him in time.
“No, no. Don’t leave like this! Don’t leave all mad because of something that’s not in my control!” Yunho yanked his head away.
“I’m not mad.”
“Yes, you are!” Jaejoong grabbed his hand again, pulling the other toward him into a hug. “I know you, Yunho. I know how you get mad. Now please, can’t we just talk? I miss you.”
Yunho pulled away, shaking his head. “No. I need to leave before they find me. And you.”
Then he left.
A/n: Bet you're wondering where min is, huh? Don't worry, I have nothing against him. I do, actually, have something planned for him.
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