I should have known that it was a bad sign when I woke up, two days later, to rain pelting against the panes of my window. I dashed towards my closet and tugged out the outfit I had chosen yesterday, and then ducked into the bathroom across the hall to run a hot shower. The warmth was especially invigorating, peeling the layers of cold that had settled against my skin when I dashed down the hall with bare feet. I spent an hour getting dressed, humming slightly as I tugged at my hair with a brush and ironed it.

Jaehee was gone. Where? I had no idea. My roommate was a mystery of sorts: she could be friendly one minute and cold and indifferent in the next. Despite living with her for a year, I had yet to understand her. She was a closed book, that girl, and I sensed that she didn’t particularly like anyone trying to prise her open without her consent. I decided to ask her later, and even then I wasn’t even sure if she would deign to tell me.

I strapped on my watch as I was halfway out of the door. It was still early; the soft pattering of the rain against glass had woken me a little earlier than I intended. However, I didn’t really care. I wanted to be there before Sehun arrived, present his gift to him before he could say a word otherwise. I remembered to grab my umbrella just as I was about to close the door, and whimpered when the thick slab of wood decided to slam me while I was still halfway out. Somehow, I managed to extricate myself from the mess, and then proceeded to thunder down the hallway towards the elevators.

The apartment complex the university had rented for their students was located near to the campus, though not exactly on it. It was a short enough walk to reach the overhead pass that would lead to main headquarters and an even longer walk to reach the lecture halls and cafeteria. Thankfully, the bus stop was nearer to the complex, so I managed to not get myself entirely wet as I darted into the open doors.

I was about to shake my umbrella out, but then remembered that I was in an enclosed space and quickly sat down, hoping to dispel the stares of disapproval being directed at me. I managed to keep myself invisible throughout the ride, melting into the steel walls and worn, ageing seats as I watched people come and go at their stops. I dozed off a little before we reached town, only realising it when the bus started to heave and shake as people filed out. I joined the crowd, brushing my bangs out of my eyes as I kept my umbrella close, and my bag, closer.

The restaurant that Sehun and I agreed to meet at was one of the most sensational dining places in town. It wasn’t saying much, compared to the larger ones in the city with five-star distinctions, but it was classy enough to go to on dates –though the prices do land quite heavy blows to your wallet. I always felt guilty when Sehun decided to take me here, but I decided that today was special, and the gift that I had brought for him would compensate for his generosity.

I found him sitting in one of the booths as usual, sipping a cup of coffee, eyes hooded and contemplative. There was another cup across from him, mine I supposed, as it was still untouched, but our table was empty of dishes. I cocked my head curiously; Sehun was usually a very big eater (although his lean frame certainly didn’t account for his appetite). 

He looked up when I came, but didn’t stand like he usually did to hug me. He merely smiled slightly and cocked his chin towards the empty seat in front of him, as if giving me permission to something that had been mine all along. I sat down cautiously.

“Not hungry, Sehun-ah?” I asked softly, accepting the cup he nudged towards me, and warming myself up from the cold drafts by taking a sip.

“No, I’m not going to be long.” A long, suffering sigh. “I’m just here to talk.”

I set down the cup cautiously, leaning back as I eyed him warily. There was something I didn’t like about that tone, something that implicated heavy weights being set against fragile shoulders which couldn’t wait to relieve it. Sehun was partially avoiding my eyes, his face set into one of his famous poker faces that I’d always hated, but had gradually come into acceptance with. It was the face he had on when he wanted to hide something, when there was something he wanted to say but was contemplating whether or not he should say it.

“Look, I’m very happy. You’re one of the best things that had come into my life, and you certainly made it better when things could have gone for the worst. But...” He tapped his fingernails against his cup as he contemplated his next words. “I don’t think I could do this anymore.”

I reeled back. “What do you mean?”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Crashing waves and angry rain pattering against cold, hard glass; I decided that the expression was fairly appropriate to describe the sudden jolt in my heart now. “Sehun,” I said, speechless.

“You’re a good girlfriend; you stick my side and you’re always there, but I’m not a good guy. I don’t think I deserve you.” Despite that it was meant to sound apologetic, there wasn’t a hint of remorse in his tone.

I glared at him, long and hard, but he was expressionless as ever. “The truth, Oh Sehun,” I finally said, my voice icy and dangerous. “I want the truth.”

Sehun pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to break your heart any further.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t mean that,” I said acidly, “just as you don’t mean all the nonsense that you’ve been spouting up all this while. I want the truth. What’s the real reason that you’re breaking up with me?”

Sehun stared at down at me, but I refused to back down. The sadness had left; anger was what coursed through me now. Finally, he cocked his head, and said, in the utmost uncaring manner I had ever seen him project, “Because I’m in love with Jaehee.”

I bit my tongue from screaming out and clamped my lips together to keep my mouth from dropping open. My breathing was hard and painful; it was as if someone had forced me to inhale inside a tub of icy water. It stung its way down my trachea, scraping the walls of my lungs before spreading towards my heart.

“You know, I wasn’t anticipating this, but I’m an open person. I don’t mind you telling me that our relationship isn’t working out, but to do it during our damn anniversary, that’s really overstepping the line, Oh Sehun.” I stood up, so abruptly that it almost tipped his empty cup and upset mine.

“Wait a minute.” His brows furrowed. “What?”

I laughed. It was bitter and mirthless, and it conveyed the hollowness of my chest and my broiling anger. “I can’t even describe how much I despise you, Oh Sehun.”

I dumped my drink all over him, and tried not to cry as I marched out of the restaurant.

I didn’t realise how far I’d ran, how long my feet pattered against the damp pavement, splashing puddles and scattering droplets of water that mingled with the falling rain. I was holding my umbrella over my head, but I might as well have gone without it because the wind that gusted towards me blew sprays of water onto my face, drenching my hair and soaking my clothes. The cold iciness of the winds seeped into my bones, rooting itself into my core. My hands were numb, my lips bleached of all colour and my face was pale; the cold water seemed to bite into my skin, sending trails of icy fire down my cheeks as it mingled with my tears.

My chest heaved, both from the exertion and the crying, and I slowed my steps. With such heavy rain, the streets were as good as empty. While it was advantageous by way that I didn’t have to dodge other people, it also meant that I didn’t have other umbrellas shielding me from the rain’s wrath. I was glad that I decided to wear a sweater. The material, although thin, provided some veil of protection against the onslaught.

I shivered in my soaked clothes; if I kept at this, I’d end up with a cold.

I peered at my surroundings, trying to gauge how far I’d ran and which part of the city my legs had taken me to. The gushing rain had blurred much of my surroundings, enveloping the shops in a gray mist that washed away all colour. I squinted, trying to see past the roads, towards the signs, and then gave up and began scanning the shops instead. Those with open fronts had thrown tarps over their exposed goods, pinning them to the tables so that they wouldn’t get picked up by the wind. A familiar coffee-coloured sign with silver accents caught my eye, and I darted forwards, into the arms of EXO Cafe.

Inside was definitely warmer, and I suppressed a shudder as the last vestiges of the wind gusted through the small crack of the door. I tugged my umbrella, urging it to fold, and then laid it down carefully on the floor so that the water wouldn’t drip all over the expensive tiles. I glanced down at myself. Now I was the one dripping all over the tiles.

“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked me, and I looked up to find Chanyeol hurrying over towards me with a cloth in his right hand a spray bottle in the other. His eyes shimmered with worry.

“I’m fine,” I replied, sighing as I threaded my fingers through my hair, trying to twist the water out.

He stood there, watching me, before shaking his head and looking up. “You look like you’ve been running through the rain.”

“I did.”

His mouth opened in surprise. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, hiding my face behind a curtain of damp hair.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he said disapprovingly, and then turned and briskly walked away. I stared at him in confusion, and then stepped back against the wall, hoping to make as little mess as possible. Luckily, none of the guests were nosy enough to stare at us during our exchange, and I silently congratulated myself for choosing a cafe with polite clientele.

Chanyeol returned a minute later, holding a dish cloth.

“Sorry, this is all that we’ve got,” he said sheepishly, holding it out. Apples and pears dotted the bottom. “Kyungsoo uses it to dry things though, so I think it’ll work the same way for you. It’s clean,” he added in a hurry, before I could open my mouth to say anything. “Don’t worry. We wash everything we use here in warm water.”

Judging by the circumstances, I wasn’t in any state to be choosy, so I took it and began dabbing my face and hair with the cloth. It smelt like coffee beans and lavender, homey and inviting. I was suddenly reminded of my mother and her for lavender-scented soap.

I dabbed my arms quickly, trying not to dwell too much on homesickness.

“Here,” I said, handing it back to him. “Thanks.”

Chanyeol nodded, his eyes still on me as he automatically took the proffered cloth. The intensity of them made me look away.

“Chanyeol!” a voice called. We looked up. An employee was beckoning at Chanyeol; I remembered him to be the good-looking, soft-spoken one that all the girls seemed to adore.

“You should get back to work,” I said, picking up my umbrella and to smoothen the folds. “And I better get going.”

“Wait!” he said, head whipping towards me. “Can’t you stay for a while?”

“Why?”

“Um...” he hesitated, and then brightened and flashed me one of his toothy smiles. My heart faltered. “For, uh, coffee. Yeah, coffee. Coffee’s really good in a rainy day. It makes can make you feel warm and cosy when you’re cold. It’s not my turn to work the counter now, but I can make you some.” His voice rose a little in the end, conveying hope.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” I muttered, eyeing the other employee from the corner of my eye. He was watching the both of us, arms wrapped around his chest and his head tilted sideways. He was too far away for me to see his expression.

Chanyeol laughed. The sound rang through my ears, and somehow it managed to worm its way into my head. It was happy and joyful, the kind of laugh that you just couldn’t resist laughing along with. His deep voice had a raspy edge to it, and oddly, despite the roughness of it, it was quite pleasant music to the ears. “It’s a cafe, Hana. We’re meant to serve to coffee.”

My cheeks pinked at my stupidity and reluctantly, I nodded. “Alright then.”

“Alright,” he agreed, still grinning, and gestured towards a nearby table. “I’ll bring it over.”

“Chanyeol?” I called as he was walking away. He spun in his heels, a little too fast in my opinion, and tottered slightly in his feet, though in the end he managed to regain his balance and recollect his dignity.

“Yeah?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Can you make it a cup of mocha latte?” I asked timidly.

He grinned. “Of course, Mocha Girl.” He winked and then ducked under the counter, sidling his way around Kyungsoo and bumping aside another boy who was busy pulling the levers to work the machines.

He came back with my cup and a grin wide enough to have sent me reeling, had I not gotten used to it. “Here!”

“Thanks, Chanyeol.” I gave him a grateful nod and accepted the cup. I looked up and found him looking down at me, grin intact, if not wider. “Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong,” he shook his head. Bits of his russet brown hair fell from his cap and above his eyes. “You just said my name right again.”

I blinked; an odd cause for such delight. “That’s how I always call you in my head.” I didn’t realise what I said until the words tumbled out of my mouth.

Chanyeol’s grin was spread so wide, I was afraid that his face muscles were going to suffer a severe sprain. “Good to know.”

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “Can I just have my cheque please? And don’t say it’s on the house because I know your friend over there is going to kill you for even suggesting it.” I jerked a thumb towards the handsome boy who had called Chanyeol’s name.

Chanyeol glanced up. “Joonmyun-hyung? Don’t worry about him. He’s the manager around here, but he’s a complete softie. I managed to skip a day of work just by faking a few coughs.”

He balked when he realised what he just said, then bowed his head sheepishly. “Oh, um, yeah, could you just forget I said that? Nobody’s supposed to know.”

“Everybody does now,” Kyungsoo commented drily, wheeling a mop bucket past us. Cheeks flaming, Chanyeol whacked him on the head as he walked past.

“Chanyeol?” I called again, trying to suppress the laughter that was beginning to bubble up my throat. “Cheque?”

“Oh, I forgot! Hold on a minute.”

I handed him the money when he returned, and then proceeded to stand to make my way home.

“Wait!” Chanyeol called again. He was frowning. “Are you going home like that? All wet?”

I picked at my half-dried sweater. “Well, I don’t really have much of a choice.”

Chanyeol’s frown deepened. Then, he did the most unexpected thing possible. He tugged at the ends of his sweater, and began to pull it up.

I grabbed his wrists, my cheeks flaming. “What are you doing?!” I hissed, embarrassed. I glanced around, hoping that nobody noticed. Thankfully, given the seclusion of the table I had chosen, no one did, but Kyungsoo appeared to have taken an interest in us and was leaning against his mop as he watched our exchange.

“Taking off my sweater to give it to you,” he replied casually, as if he didn’t just cause me a mini heart attack. He managed to sense the cause of my distress though. “Don’t worry, I have something underneath.” He tugged at the sweater again, and revealed the white shirt he was wearing below it.

“I can’t take your sweater, Chanyeol,” I said, shaking my head vigorously.

“I can’t let you go home all dripping wet.”

“I’m going to get wet anyway, so why bother?”

“At least you won’t be completely soaked when you get back.”

“I have an umbrella.”

“And it’s doing a fine job, isn’t it?” He eyed my clothes.

“There’s nowhere to change.”

“We have a toilet.”

There was really no winning this argument. I reluctantly accepted the sweater he offered me.

“Just go change,” he said softly. “Don’t worry. I can live for a few hours in the cold.”

I obliged and did as I was told. Chanyeol showed me where the toilet was, and I quickly ducked in, fearing the eyes trailing at my wake.

The sweater was definitely larger, too large to even fit properly onto my shoulders. The sleeves engulfed most of my arms, and my fingers just barely peeked at the bottom when I held them to my sides. But it was warm and cosy and it smelt of cocoa and cinnamon. I loved it immediately.

When I emerged, Chanyeol was standing by the door, holding my purse and umbrella like an overzealous doorman. He grinned again when he saw me. “Glad you took my advice.”

“I’ll give this back after I wash it,” I said, taking my umbrella and purse from him, trying to hide my flaming cheeks when I noticed that almost all of the cafe’s workers were staring at me. I dipped my head in a slight bow, and continued to speed walk out of the cafe.

I was barely out of the door when Chanyeol was assaulted by his colleagues.

I didn’t know how long I dawdled on my walk back home, but my head was still reeling over the events. Despite Chanyeol’s ability to remedy my spirit and energy, he wasn’t able to do much about my heart. I still ached from the way Sehun broke up with me, and echoes of his last sentence still haunted the corners of my mind, edging its way into my thoughts. I never knew he was this ruthless and insensitive, and to say that he broke up with me because he was in love with the girl with whom I lived with added salt to the wound. I couldn’t face Jaehee yet.

Thankfully, when I got back, she wasn’t there. I tried to calm myself by busying myself in the kitchen, rearranging odd bits of our canned food in the cabinet and wiping the glasses and plates dry. When I realised that I had run out of cleaning to do, I pulled out a chopping board and began preparing dinner instead. The rhythmic tapping of the knife against the thick slab of wood gave me the leverage needed to keep myself from slipping into the dark void, though that didn’t mean I was anywhere near ready to face her.

She came in sauntering forty minutes later, while I was busy peeling apples for my desert.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said disinterestedly, dropping her purse onto the couch and kicking her feet up onto the coffee table. “How was your anniversary?”

“You should know,” I said acidly. The knife moved faster, scraping off more skin that I intended.

“And why should I?” she was giving me and odd look, as if I was a loon for even suggesting it.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I assumed that he told you.” The knife sliced the apple cleanly in half.

“What the hell are you talking about? Why would Sehun tell me what happened in your anniversary?” Her voice rose in annoyance.

I jabbed the knife onto the chopping board. Its blade quivered as I drove the tip onto the soft wood. “Maybe it’s because you’re his girlfriend.”

Silence.

Jaehee turned away, suddenly very interested in the bare wall in front of her. Her eyes bore holes into the brick and concrete, and I wondered if she was regretting this confrontation as much as I.

“How long has it been?” I asked when I realised that she wasn’t going to grace me with a response.

Silence again.

“How long has Sehun cheated on me?” My words were heavy and sharp, slicing through the still air and sending trails of coalesced mist cascading down the cold glass panes.

“Three months,” she finally replied tonelessly, voice and face void of emotion –of remorse.

I tugged out the knife. With one clean swipe, I brought it down on the second half of my apple, slicing it in two. I let the blade clatter into the sink as I scooped pieces of the fruit up and briskly walked into my room.

The sobs came before I could even make it onto my bed.