December 23, 2009

Jongin and Hyunsu are now arm-in-arm; walking towards the bar that was fortunately seven blocks away (“It’s close enough to not require us a car.” Jongin remarks), both covered in expensive, sultry clothing; the man in his favorite midnight blue pea coat over his turtleneck while the woman wore a white leather coat Jongin bought her a week ago, their faces half-covered by scarves. They were laughing, envisioning how the mistimed meeting would go, throwing ideas like how Sehun would probably throw up at Hyunsu or how Sehun would probably kiss Jongin full on the mouth or how Sehun would shake his manhood at Chanyeol while doing a dance.

They had come to a mini park where Jongin knew there was a shortcut to the commercial district. Luckily, it was deserted, giving Hyunsu the liberty to dawdle. She frees herself from Jongin’s clasps and poorly mimics his prominent pirouette toward the inadequately lit grass. “Crong?” She calls him for his famous Crong impersonation. The man immediately acquiesces, knowing how much his wife was fond of it. ‘Crong’ was what she referred to him whenever she felt like acting unusually sweet or whenever she wanted him to do his adorable impression. Gracefully, she stretches out her arms, doing the “Spanish fourth” position.

“Not too shabby,” Jongin chuckles in affirmation as he willingly plunges into his wife’s whimsical folly, pirouetting intricately and taking her hand. “My swan.” He fondly addresses her. It was his term of endearment towards the woman, ‘swan’. He kisses the hand he took and for a moment, they close their eyes and marvel at the others’ magnificence, relishing the opportunity to feel as if they were the only two people in the world.

“I love you.” He says to her, his lips above the woman’s nose. “I love you.” She lovingly replies as she stared back at his divine, twinkling brown orbs. “Your eyes,” Hyunsu whispers, kissing his lips once. She kisses him again, this time the woman slightly opens and teasingly, bites Jongin’s beautiful, full lips. “Your existence.” He kisses his wife who shone under the moon, his heart swelling with contentment and gratitude knowing she is his. And only his.

After a few minutes, they were walking again until they come across a dark, deserted tunnel. They could hear the wind whip through the round, narrow walkway, giving out quite an ominous ambience, like a scene right out of a thriller.

“Well this is creepy.” Hyunsu nervously jokes, clasping Jongin’s arm.

“You said it. Let’s just make it fast.” They did, brisk walking. It was so quiet, all they could hear was the sound of their boots clacking resonated and their hearts pounding against their ears. Watchful, a protective arm slithers around Hyunsu, keeping her closer.

The woman has felt her husband tense up so she bites her lower lip and thinks of a way to lighten up the mood. “You know, I used to be scared of tunnels.”

“Oh? You’ve never told me that.” Jongin finds this amusing, imagining a young Jung Hyunsu in her summery, floral dress, ringlets and ribbons, all smiles as if she were the sun itself, trembling at the sight of a disturbing, eerie tunnel.

“My dad taught me how to overcome it,” She laughs at the memory. “When our car went through a tunnel once, he held his breath until we got to