I parked at my house’s garage, turning the humming of the engine off and looked at the petit male sitting silently on the passenger seat. He had stuttered his name to me back at the cemetery, and now that I take a good look at him, he was beautiful. Kyungsoo had fallen asleep somewhere along our venture to my place, exhaustion finally caught up with him. His eyes are a bit puffy from all the crying he had done, his cheeks slightly flushed and mouth slightly agape from his sound sleep. Shaky breaths would escape him now and then; his lungs must have not yet recovered from too much sobbing it has done. I slowly reached over and placed my hand on his shoulder slightly shaking him awake. He whimpered for a while before finally letting his eyes flutter open. He looked around in confusion at first, trying to piece together what had happened and why he ended up in a car parked on a stranger’s house. And as if everything had finally made sense to him, he looked at me, and I wasn’t surprised at the way he practically pressed his back on the car door with a horrified expression away from the hand I had reached out for him.

“Jongin?” he breathed. And I could only shake my head.

“Kai.” I replied.

“You look exactly like him.”

“I know.”

As to why he opted on whispering everything he wanted to say, I didn’t know. I was more worried about how confused he actually was, and how terrified he was probably feeling. He must have been thinking that I’m some kind of Jongin’s ghost, out to hunt everyone dear to me and say a proper goodbye. With a sigh, I got off of the car, quickly going to Kyungsoo’s side of the car and opening the door for him. He jumped slightly, now moving a bit away from me, as if he was scared to make some kind of contact, and I would be lying if I said that the gesture didn’t hurt.

“You were in no shape to speak earlier when I asked where you live so I could drive you there…” I started softly, imitating the hushed tone Kyungsoo had been using since I woke him up. “So I decided to go to my place instead. You can crash here for the night if you’d like, there’s no problem with it.” I offered, thinking I shouldn’t beat around the bush lest I scare Kyungsoo more than he already appears to be. He gave me a weak nod with an equally weak thank you that surprised me. He made a slight move inside, probably letting me know that he wanted to get down from the car. And already getting the hint that he didn’t want to be anywhere within touching zone with me, I smiled at him before walking to my front door. I inserted the key, unlocking and opening the door. I left it open for Kyungsoo and ventured my way inside, turning every light on. I threw my keys at the table when I felt Kyungsoo hesitantly entered the house, I gestured to the couch, silently sending him the message that he’s free to feel at home. I went to the kitchen, checking if I had enough resources to make dinner for two.

===============

I sat quietly on the couch as Jo-… Kai turned a corner and disappeared to what I assumed to be the kitchen. I rested my head on the backrest, letting out a hearty sigh because I felt drained. I scanned the unfamiliar room, now and then spotting a few handmade sketches either hanging on the walls, or neatly framed and displayed on top of the tables and cabinets. What caught my eyes was the medium sized frame holding a picture of two identical men smiling; the only indication of their difference was the shade of their skin. I stood up from the couch and walked my way closer to the framed photo, hands unconsciously reaching out to grab it.

Holding onto the cold and hard edge of the frame, I carefully lifted the photograph off the small table, skimming my eyes on the two identical faces that are smiling at me. I ran the fingers of my free hand over the picture, enjoying how I could finally see Jongin’s smile again, how I could see what he looked like.

“Hey…” a voice snapped me back into reality and I turned my head to its direction. Kai was standing just by the end of the couch, holding two plates that were full with what looked to be our dinner. I continued to stare, wondering how much of a resemblance Kai had to Jongin. Resemblance wasn’t even the right word to describe it… copy would be most likely. My hold on the frame unconsciously tightened. Because the more I look at Kai, the more my brain was telling that Jongin was alive.

And it hurt.

Because Jongin was dead.

“I made dinner… it’s not much because…” Kai started, cautiously walking his way towards me. I automatically took a step back, because a part of me still couldn’t believe the face I was seeing, and part of me was utterly confused about everything. And maybe because Kai had noticed, or maybe because he just doesn’t care that much, he stopped by the middle of the couch and placed one plate on the coffee table and stepped back. “I’ve always lived alone since Jongin died and I’ve never been one to be good at cooking, but I hope you’d like it anyway,” He said as he continued to walk backwards, to probably where the kitchen was.

And I didn’t know what it was that got into me, maybe because somewhere at the back of my mind I wanted to get closer to Kai, or maybe because I felt embarrassed that I’ve been pushing away the person that’s been nothing but helpful since I pathetically broke down a while ago, but I found myself saying “Can you eat with me?” before I could even register what it was that I said.

And for a moment, Kai stared at me blankly, as if he thought that he’d heard me wrong. Then his expression had changed into that of confusion, his head slightly tilting to the side as if contemplating if it’s really okay for him to dine with me. I found the latter thought to absurd, we were in his house and it was supposed to be him asking me if I could eat with him. But because I was already feeling embarrassed enough seeing as he already drove me to someplace he deemed safest, and did his best to make me dinner, I uttered an equally embarrassed “Please?” as I placed the picture frame back on its place and made my way to the couch, sitting directly in front of the plate Kai had left on the coffee table.

Feeling no movement from Kai, I slowly turned my head and looked at him, waiting. And as if sensing that I did want to eat with him, that it was okay for him to be near me – because really, why wouldn’t it be? – He made his way to the couch, placing his own plate on the table and sitting at the end of the couch. I looked down at my plate, silently grabbing it and the chopsticks and dug in.

“Thank you.” I breathed.

“You’re welcome.” He replied.

We ate in silence, nothing but the sound of our chewing and the clanking of stainless chopsticks on porcelain plates. I could feel Kai glancing at me every now and then, maybe thinking if I found the taste of his cooking okay. I wanted to reply, to tell him that dinner tasted great, but remembering how Kai looked like, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, afraid to end up staring at the almost too familiar pair of brown eyes. Because no matter how much their similarities were, it was unhealthy to let myself believe on the lie that Kai was actually Jongin.

Because Jongin’s already dead.

And though that fact has been drilled into my brain, I couldn’t find the right sanity to believe and accept it. If I had, I wouldn’t be bothering to walk every single day to Jongin’s grave. I wouldn’t be staring into space wondering why I had to meet Jongin, fall in love with him when I would just be heart broken in the end, because he’d be taken away from me too soon. And seeing such a familiar face after longing for gave me a strong wave of pain surging to every inch of my being. Because as much as I was happy to see Jongin’s face, the heavy impact of reality was still on top of everything and is screaming that Jongin‘s already dead. That he’s never going to come back.

And it hurt because I didn’t want to believe nor accept it.

Because I was afraid, of how much it would hurt when I finally did.

===============

I watched at how Kyungsoo suddenly froze and unconsciously started to play with everything on his plate. Maybe it was my cooking, or maybe because of my presence, or the memory of my face? I noticed how much he was trying his best not to look at me. It wasn’t like I was offended… more like I was hurt, because not only was he trying to avoid having to touch me, but he’s now refused to look at me. Was he that hurt of seeing Jongin? Most people would be ecstatic to see the face they longed for. But Kyungsoo was different, instead of being happy; I never failed to notice his pained expression everytime his eyes would accidentally land on mine.

And it hurt.

Because for the first time, I was starting to hate the face that I shared with my brother.

Because I never thought it’d be giving such a pained expression on someone.

“Are you done?” I asked Kyungsoo softly. Jumping a little in surprise, he almost looked at me but decided against it and gave me a nod. I slowly reached out my hand – because I still haven’t forgotten how he didn’t want to be touched by me – and retrieved his plate, stacking it neatly on top of mine. Kyungsoo didn’t make a single move, and finally my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

“You know Jongin?” I asked, and a small nod was all I got as a reply.

“How?”

“We… we were classmates at High School.”

“You were one of his friends?”

A hesitant nod was given. And feeling as though he still wasn’t ready to open up to a complete stranger, I decided to leave the matter for now. I was about to stand up to start doing the dishes when he asked, “Are you Jongin’s twin brother?”

I shook my head, “I’m older by two years.”

“Then why do you look exactly like him?” he asked, and the look of utter confusion and being broken were what dominated his eyes when he looked at me. Like he was begging for any clarification that somehow he’s just imagining things; that I looked different from what he was seeing. And I couldn’t help but feel something inside me twist in pain.

Hey Jongin…