Kim Junmyeon was one of the geniuses in the medicine field, living in Seoul, the heart of Korea and engaged with the girl of his dreams, Hwang Miyoung.

One night, he was having one of his late, tiring night shifts, he dreamed about his older brother, Kim Heechul.

Junmyeon used to be close with the elder when they were both young, but Junmyeon had begun to distance himself when the elder had come out of the closet. Their relationship had gotten worse after Junmyeon left their hometown, Haeundae-Busan, for Seoul to further his studies and plan to reside there, intending to never come back to his old life. For five years, Junmyeon had not once paid a visit to his old town, even during Chuseok, claiming to new friends that he is a Seoul guy. He did call, twice, thrice, he can’t remember, and he had never asked his mother to speak to his brother. If he was asked, he would never admit that his brother admitting he was a homoual had affected his life greatly.

In the dream, both he and Heechul stood on top of a green hill, taking cover under a huge tree. There was no sky, clouds, wind, sun nor moon. Instead, everything was blindingly white except for him, his older brother, the green hill and the huge tree. And Heechul had been acting out of character. The man looked serene and silent, wearing the exact clothes as the last time they had fought. It lasted for a minute, Junmyeon thought, they both just stood there while staring each other and in a blink, Heechul was gone. The older was nothing but a black shadow with blinding white behind him as Junmyeon recalled in his mind again. Regretfully, Junmyeon had not uttered a word even then.

            His shift would end in an hour or so and he was at one of his rounds with a senior physician when his phone vibrated. At first, he was determined to ignore the call but the annoying vibration just would not stop. Taking his cellphone out with mind set on rejecting the call but only to dismiss it as soon as his mother’s number showed up on the caller ID. There were a few unread notifications and missed calls as well.

Suddenly, his gut churned badly as he sensed something had gone wrong and promptly answered the call. His mother's sobs and sad whimpers greeted him on the other line. This instantly made his assumption confirmed – something is definitely wrong. His senior did not seem to be upset that he was answering a phone call in a middle of doing rounds but looked mildly curious. After all, it is a general rule that cellphones are strictly prohibited when doing rounds. This is to prevent any sort of distraction in case emergencies occur. To avoid further distractions, Junmyeon bowed and let himself out of the ward.

“Junmyeon-ah,” she choked. “Your brother,” more sniffles. “Your brother, Heechul.” Junmyeon was getting impatient. He knew what he was about to hear was not going to sound good. “Heechul died.”

            The device once held in a firm grip, loosened in his hold and slipped from his grasp, crashing down the floor and smashed to pieces. Just in time with his knee touching the sickly white tile floor. Around him, patients, doctors and nurses alike gasped in surprise. They surrounded him like bees to honeys; questions of 'are you alright, Junmyeon-shi?', 'what's wrong?' and 'are you unwell, Dr. Kim?' were thrown at him. But he can't hear anything, or see anything.

            His brother, His caring and loving brother has just... just... He can't even say it. The elder was eight years older than him and Junmyeon knew that was a huge . But Junmyeon never felt it. Before the fight broke out, Heechul and him were more friends than brothers. Heechul was always there to never make him feel left out. The elder was healthy, often laughing loudly and playing pranks. And more than anything, Junmyeon felt utmost guilt that the last time he had seen Heechul was not a good day and Junmyeon would always remember the pain, the hurt, anger and disappointment engraved on the elder’s beautiful face.

            But most of all, Junmyeon was sad that he did not remember how Heechul’s smile looked like.

            Screw him and his pride, Junmyeon wretched.

+

            He immediately booked the earliest flight to Haeundae-Busan the next day and thankfully, there was exactly one vacant seat just perfect for him.  At the duration of the flight, a shadow of where Heechul’s figure should be with blinding white behind the scene never left Junmyeon’s mind once as he closed his eyes. 35-minutes flight never felt like an eternity like it was then.

            There was a huge crowd surrounding Heechul’s grave. It seems like the whole town were there mourning after Heechul's death. There was the mute florist, the old owner of the retail shop his mother frequented to, the village police officers, the neighborhood kids now all grown up, family friends, their teachers and others that Junmyeon didn't recognize. Junmyeon could only look down to the ground with shame. These people were more accepting of Heechul’s uality than he would ever be despite their blood relations. Junmyeon willed himself to do anything just to prove of his acceptance.

            After the funeral had ended, most of the others had left while some decided to gather at his parent’s home situated above the small hill with vast green covered the area. Junmyeon was enjoying the view over the hill alone. He was nearing himself towards the hillside when he was approached by a Chinese, tough looking man who he didn't recall ever seeing before.

The man held out a large hand, “the name is Hankyung.” His voice was stern with an obvious accent and with a body like that, Junmyeon was more than intimidated but instead, he was fixated on the other’s eyes. The other's eyes were soft and...gloomy.

            Not wanting to seem daunted and most definitely scared, Junmyeon accepted the handshake. As expected, Hankyung's grip over his hand was firm and sturdy. A clear sign that the other has a personality of straight to the point and no funny business. “Kim Junmyeon. Pleasure to meet you.” If they were in a different situation, they would be friends instantly as Junmyeon admired people like Hankyung a lot – leadership qualities.

            “I couldn't say the same,” a second after that was said, a heavy punch had landed on Junmyeon’s cheek, courtesy of Hankyung. Of all things Junmyeon expected to happen with the Chinese man, he never expected that right hook. Well, he did deserved a punch or two or maybe five after what had happened but certainly not from a foreign stranger.

            “What the hell was that for?” Junmyeon cried out but regretted it at the last moment as the pain on his split lips intensified. He managed a whimper before two hands fisted on the collar of his suit.

            “That was for being an of a brother to Heechul hyung.” Hankyung hurled the body to the ground. With one hand raked through his short hair, Hankyung took out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lighted one for himself and another for Junmyeon and put it gently in between the latter's lips. Feeling satisfied, he sat next to Junmyeon's lying form as the two of them enjoyed the deathly drug.

            After long minutes of contemplating, Junmyeon caved in. “I do deserve that.” The split still hurt but not as much as before. Junmyeon was sure that there was a giant purple bruise on his left cheek then. It was going to be a to cure later but like he said, he deserved that.

            “You really do.”

            Junmyeon looked to his side and studied the other's handsome features. The other was staring off into space, to the blue of the skies to be exact, day dreaming perhaps, with smokes occasionally leaving his mouth. The tough man looked serene and peaceful. “If I may ask, what is your relationship with my brother?” the question was out before it reached the filter of his brain. In depth, he knew the answer to that judging from the ferocity the man used to attack him. But he needed confirmation somehow. It seems like it was the least he could do – getting to know Heechul's... lover? The man who was the center of Heechul's universe, the man who received Heechul's unconditional love, despite his love for everybody, the man who Heechul loves more than everybody.

            “We are each other's lifelines.”

            Hankyung's short answer caused the cigarette from Junmyeon's fingers to tumble to the grass. Junmyeon remembered the time when he was Heechul’s lifeline and he was the elder’s. He thought he could not get any hurtful but it did then. And he had no one else to blame but himself.

The orange lights at the end flicked like fireflies in the black skies of the night. The stars always seem to be prettier in Haeundae-Busan than in Seoul. It was one of the things Junmyeon didn’t realize he had been missing all the while in Seoul. In the end, Junmyeon relented, “I can accept that.”

            This earned a small smile from Hankyung. “Finally you accepted it, huh?” the man glanced at Junmyeon, smile still in place. His shoulders lifted as if all the burdens in the world had dissipated for him.

From that, Junmyeon realized two things at once.

First, each person carries these lifts on their shoulders but for people who are considered to be out of the norms, there will always be an extra burden for them. Junmyeon felt pity for these people. People who were labeled as social-freaks and abnormal like his brother.

            How much must it have been they have wished to be treated as a normal?

             Second, he came to know that he was the cause of the burdens that the other has been carrying – his brother has been carrying as well.

            Hankyung stood up and crushed the half-used cigarette under his foot. Seeing his companion standing up, Junmyeon thought he might as well stood up too. The former took out something in the form of a white envelope from his pocket and handed it to Junmyeon. “Here. It's from him.”

            With complete understanding, Junmyeon assumed that 'him' referred to his brother. Junmyeon took the letter from Hankyung's hand in curiosity. The envelope was crisp and no writings on its front or back. But it held a slight weight. Not knowing what to say, Junmyeon could only utter a 'thank you' while his eyes remain enthralled by the object. He was shocked to say the least that at the moment of his brother’s last breath, the elder still remember to write him something.

            “Make sure to read it,” Hankyung was clenching his fist as he said this. It was as if he was trying to say something more but couldn't find the courage. It was quite an irony for a man who signifies strength like him. “He put a lot of effort in that.” That was his last words to Junmyeon before he went back inside the house and left.

            Junmyeon stared at the letter momentarily but ended up stuffing it inside his trousers pocket. He had enough remorse and mourning today. He would read it tomorrow morning, first thing, before he flew off to Seoul tomorrow afternoon. Then he inhaled the sweet air of the countryside before he went inside to the gloomy atmosphere of mourning death.

+

            The weight was too much to bear. He couldn't even dare himself to open his eyes with the assurance that the morning light would only make his headache even worse. It was as if a ton of bricks were situated above his head and the delirious thrums of annoying percussion instruments kept banging into his ears. Aside from that, outside was a beautiful morning.

            Junmyeon made a vow to never drink again but knew it would be broken soon enough. Last night, the shots just constantly came and swallowed easily down his throat with a slight burn. Doing this with a great hope that the letter and his brother's last wishes would be gone in a 'poof!' like Junmyeon had never read it.

            Because of the letter too that Junmyeon had to cancel his flight back.

            And the neat and cursive writings in black inked pen on a piece of white paper took a run down in his thoughts over and over like a broken film reel.

Junmyeon-ah,

How are you feeling? I hope you are just peachy since you're studying to be a doctor and all.

It will be funny if a doctor gets sick right? Hahaha that was ridiculous of me.

But doctors are human too. They can get sick as well.

So I hope you have been taking care of yourself well.

My dongsaeng, I know that we separate in such bad terms last time.

So, don't beat yourself over it. Just to clear things up, I'm not mad at you.

I can never be mad at you.

After all, this hyung of yours is the one who betrays you.

As your hyung, your role model, I should not be this way.

But Junmyeon-ah, I want you to forgive me for this fault who is me.

And I know it is selfish of me. But the thought of you not forgiving me just makes me want to die.

Well, technically I am dying. Silly me, I can even joke when I am close to Death's door.

Will I die not knowing you forgiving me? Will I die knowing you not forgiving me at all?

I will never know.

But I give that to Faith.

And hereby I trust the letter to Hankyung to hand it to you.

By now, I am sure you have met him. He is a nice man, Junmyeon-ah.

A mechanic at the south of our village. He was a thief the first time we met.

I realized he stole my heart the moment our eyes laid upon each other.

Despite my sickness, he stayed by my side through and through.

I feel guilty for making him, loving the old sick fool like me when he can have a better life with a beautiful wife and children.

But at the same time, the egoist in me wants him to be with me even just for a moment.

He teaches me the feeling of being loved.

It is nice being at the receiving end of one's affection.

Along with this letter I asked of a favor from you.

I entrust you, my dear dongsaeng, someone who have been dear to me as well for these past years.

He has no one to be his guide, his parent, his brother or his friend.

This heavy guilt inside of me is increasing day by day at the thought of leaving him behind.

Take care of him as a brother if you may.

Our parents already have too much in their hands especially by having us two as their sons.

Deeply, I ask of you please don't cast him aside.

He has so much to learn. A foreigner in this country.

I believe that Zhang Yixing will be safe in your hands, dongsaeng.

Sincerely, Heechul-hyung.

            A cold touch on the back of his palm caused him to open his eyes slightly. The figure in front of him was somewhat a blur. But he could make out that it was definitely male with skin as pale as the shirt the other was wearing. There was black blotch on top of the latter's head which Junmyeon dumbly guessed that it was the other's hair. The sudden moving part of the other came into Junmyeon's line of focus. It was red and soft-looking. He was assured that those lips would feel soft beneath his fingers.

Junmyeon tried to decipher whatever the unnamed male has tried to inform him but the sudden bout of thinking made him very dizzy. He groaned in annoyance and seconds later, closed his eyes again.

            The other sensed that Junmyeon not going to wake up soon, he shook the lying figure fervently until a grumble could be heard from the said figure. Suddenly feeling scared, he put a glass of clear warm water and a packet of aspirins on the side table and walked to the corner of the room to sit with knees bundled up to his chest, long arms wounded around them. Not daring to make a sound, he merely observed silently the lying figure. Said figure groaned for the second time, a hand instantly reached out to his own forehead trying to relieve the pain for sure. Moments after, the male watched how Junmyeon got up to a sitting position with much effort, not bothering to help but to only remain silent.

            As Junmyeon’s vision became brighter and much clearer, and the pain has subsided a little, he glanced around the bare room in which he soon acknowledged that it was unfamiliar to him. With a frown, he looked down at himself and noted that he was not in which he was gladly thankful for. Seriously, that wasn't the time to sleep around especially not two days after Heechul's death. At the thought of his brother, Junmyeon exhaled a sigh that’ll worth a century filled with world's burdens.

            Just then, he felt the hairs on his body stood on end as he sensed someone was watching him from the lone corner of the room. There, Junmyeon saw a boy and his hangover pierced into his mind like hot waves.

            He groaned in pain and the boy immediately ran towards him to give him a glass of water from the bedside table. Not caring if it's harmful or not, Junmyeon took a large gulp. With slightly trembling hands, the boy popped an aspirin into Junmyeon's mouth carefully so as not to choke the latter. As Junmyeon felt the bitter taste slide down his throat, he chugged down the water in one shot and slammed the glass not so gently.

            After Junmyeon fully regained his breath, he turned to look at the boy standing awkwardly at the side of the bed. His calculative gaze swept the standing figure up and down before he spoke, “Zhang Yixing is it?” Junmyeon inwardly winced at the slight malice in his own tone. He could see the boy flinched momentarily.

            Yixing, as Junmyeon confirmed, only nodded his head. The former didn't trust him to open his mouth without sounding stupid in his messed up Hangul. Ever since Junmyeon had regained his composure, Yixing found the dull patterns of the floor are much better to look at than Junmyeon's intimidating expression.

He liked it better when Junmyeon was fast asleep.

            Junmyeon could remember bits and pieces of last night's events. Last night was mostly consisted of his sudden passion for the bright-colored drinks but before that, he was completely sober. He briefly recalled that he had Yixing accompanied him last night. They didn't talk much. Yixing was quiet, a bore and non-drinker despite coming of age. This left with Junmyeon downing his sorrows and resentments for being a guardian to some 23-year-old-Chinese-Hangul-illiterate boy.

            Well, he did mention that he was willing to do anything if it could compensate his inconsiderate behavior towards his brother. Junmyeon never noticed that 'anything' is such a big word which circumcise to basically everything. And it didn't even cross his mind that baby-sitting for your whole life was included in that one small word.

            With a sigh, Junmyeon grumbled a “Morning,” in which Yixing blinked a few times in confusion before smiling (eyes adorably crinkled at the corners with a dimple on the side of his cheek, Junmyeon grudgingly noted), for the first time since they met and replied, “Good morning!”

            'Good morning indeed.'

+

            Junmyeon's notice of two days leave elongated to two weeks instead. From those two weeks, it took him five days to persuade one Zhang Yixing to move in with him to the city. The boy was just so persistent. Countless times Junmyeon has threatened to leave the boy for Seoul but it fell on deaf ears.

Junmyeon couldn't understand Yixing sometimes, or usually. It frustrated Junmyeon to no end. If the boy refused to go to Seoul, there was no way Junmyeon would be able to take care of former. His work, friends, life and not to mention his hot girlfriend were all in the city. He has nothing in the village except for his family and memories that are best not to be indulged in.

            After days of relentless persuasions, Yixing reluctantly agreed but not before Junmyeon gave his word to allow him pay a visit to the village every end of the month. Junmyeon wondered where the strong-headiness and stubbornness came from. After all, Yixing gave Junmyeon the impression of a passive boy and a little submissive.

            The day that they left, on their way to the big city with Yixing getting excited as it was his second time riding a plane, Yixing muttered, “Thank you. And I'm sorry,” before closing his eyes to take a nap in the midst of their 35-minutes journey.

Junmyeon gazed up in surprise from his Easy Scientific Terminology to the sleeping raven-haired next to him. He stared for uncounted minutes and concluded that he didn't deserve Yixing's thankful grace as of yet and not quite sure what the other was apologizing for, but at the same time not daring to voice out his curiosity. Putting that aside and adjusting Yixing's jacket that was covering the other’s face gently, Junmyeon proceeded with his reading.

+

            The colorful and blinding city lights intrigued Yixing. Blast of music of catchy pop songs and sound of human existence created a dull ring to his ears. He wasn't sure whether he was comfortable with it or not. The difference with the surroundings in the village was exhilarating. And he wasn't used to it. But the warm presence beside him reminded him that he wasn't alone here.

            That single thought brought a little comfort somehow.

            “The lights are pretty.” Yixing's first sentence as they have arrived, in his simple Korean, caused Junmyeon to chuckle. They were standing at the heart of Apgujeong Street in the midst of the bustling crowds despite that it was already half past eleven at night. With Junmyeon's handsome stature and Yixing's huge luggage, they attracted quite a number of interested glances. But the two didn't pay any heed at all.

            “They are. But sometimes can be quite an eyesore,” Junmyeon informed helpfully. Yixing was still gaping at the glamorous city environment, barely listening to Junmyeon. Yixing observed that most of the passers-by were dressed to the nines with their sky high heels, branded jackets, top shoes and designer shirts. Their hairstyles looked nice as well. Unconsciously, he smoothed out his hair not wanting to be a fish out of water. Yixing could only pout.

            On cue, Yixing's stomach made an audible grumble. “Hungry,” the boy smiled sheepishly at Junmyeon. The latter snorted with both of his eyebrows raised to his hairline as if saying, 'Oh, really?' in a sarcasm manner.

Junmyeon wasn't in a good mood at all. First, the boy was messing his head with his damn apology, second was being ignored by the same boy and third, he was constantly reminded that he was taking care of a ing 23-year-old. Junmyeon acknowledged that Yixing was incapable of comprehending any Korean but the simple and basic ones. But any sort of acknowledgment either a nod or hand signals or something from the boy would do Junmyeon just fine.

            Sighing, “Come on. Eat at my place.” Yixing looked at Junmyeon for a second or two before smiling happily, understanding dawned upon him. Well, Junmyeon did try.

            “Okay.”

           Junmyeon wondered if guilty of food poisoning would put him in jail. Have to check on that later.

+

            Yixing hated Junmyeon's flat, or apartment. Whatever. He still couldn't differentiate between the two. The place was spacious and painted in sickly white. Even the modern furniture was in white. It made Yixing painfully thought of an asylum. Junmyeon's flat gave off the same feeling as that place – cold and horribly alone.

            It has been three weeks since Yixing last moved here and he rarely saw Junmyeon lounging about. The man often left in the wee hours of the morning only to come back late at night a couple of days later. There was a time when Junmyeon didn't come back for four days straight and Yixing was burdened with worry. But he would never admit that.

            It was like living with a phantom.

            Even if Junmyeon was in one of his off days (Yixing still couldn't caught hold of Junmyeon's working schedules just yet), he would only be home for two to three hours before he left again.

Because of this, Yixing suffered from extreme boredom.

Every day he was left to his own devices – cook, eat, cleaning, study Hangul, sleep. Sometimes Yixing would go out and explore but not that far. The idea of being lost wasn't that far-fetched in unfamiliar surroundings.

From the exploring, Yixing would buy a few cheap trinkets to fill up the empty vanity in his new room. There are miniature shoes he bought from the souvenir shop across the apartment block, a couple of antique mirrors each in gold and silver, palm-sized snow globes and his most favorite was a well-carved mahogany music box. The box displayed a pink swan glued expertly above a crystal surface, twirling around in circle until the music stopped.

            To say, that Yixing was happy, not really. Junmyeon seem adamant in not acknowledging Yixing's presence. Clearly the man was still in an adapting phase but until when? Would Yixing have to wait a year? A couple years? Three years? Yixing was a human being too. He has needs – needs to be recognized, entertained, praised and etc. But Junmyeon didn't seem to get it.

            'One more week,' Yixing thought to himself. ‘A week more to go back.' He stared silently at Junmyeon's broad back from the dining table. The man was watching some weekend variety show while Yixing munched his breakfast. 'Then, perhaps, maybe I'm not going to come back here again.'

            “Want to go out?”

            Yixing choked on his cornflakes. Junmyeon was unfazed by this and his eyes remain glued to the screen. The man chuckled lightly when the people in the screen erupted with laughters. Yixing inwardly seethed at the other's nonchalant attitude. He was gasping for God's sakes. Who knows if his trachea was blocked? And to think Junmyeon was a future doctor. Weren't doctors supposed to be kind and caring?

            After Yixing's gasping subsided, he waited momentarily before Junmyeon brought up the invitation again as if Yixing wasn't choking to death moments ago. “You want to go out?” This time Junmyeon turned back from the screen to look at Yixing. Yixing stared back at him with equal intensity, trying to find any hidden motives. Yixing found it strange that Junmyeon wanted them to go out together. It was a first, truthfully. Resigning, Yixing murmured an agreement before standing up and cleaning the mess he made.

            If Yixing stared a second longer, he would see Junmyeon's crinkled eye smile at him for the first time too.

            Two weeks after, Yixing came back to Seoul from the village for the first time feeling that he has not missed anything.

+

            A beautiful woman came one day while Junmyeon wasn't home and Yixing didn't know what to do. It was awkward. And Yixing really hated awkward situations. The woman was staring at him from head to toe. It reminded Yixing of a drunken Junmyeon, Heechul-hyung and 'good morning's. Yixing took note of his old white shirt and cargo pants compared to her yellow mini dress and fancy jewelries.

            “Who are you and what are you doing in Junmyeon's apartment?” she questioned with a snooty expression on her face. It was obvious that she didn't like Yixing one bit.

            Yixing failed to grasp the second part of her question but thankfully managed to understand the first one. “Yixing. Zhang Yixing.” They were both sitting on the expensive Persian sofa across from each other. Her posture screamed confidence and luxury while Yixing knew he looked timid and pathetic. “W-want, coffee? J-juice?” he stuttered.

            “No, thanks,” the woman frowned. She concluded that this Zhang Yixing was undoubtedly not a Korean. Not Japanese either judging by his accent. So she was only left with, “You're Chinese?” There was no mistaking it.

            Yixing nodded, eyes not daring to look upward from the ground.

            “How old?”

            “23”

            '23?' she inwardly gasped. What was Junmyeon doing living with a Chinese guy? Was Junmyeon into doing charity cases now since they don't seem to be related? And as far as she remembered, Junmyeon didn't have any Chinese friends. Feeling unsatisfied, she asked, “Where's Junmyeon?” Junmyeon’s got some explaining to do.

            “Out. Don't know where,” Yixing answered as best as he could without sounding impolite. Although, he noticed a few seconds letter he had missed the honorifics. He mentally hit himself on the head. Well, you couldn’t blame him for the lack of human interactions to practice his Korean with.

            The woman took in the absence of honorifics in Yixing's speech but decided to not be bothered. “How long have you been here?” Her eyes roamed around the area and aware that everything looked the same as the last time she was there, making sure to look at the photo frames one by one.

            Yixing tried to decipher her question slowly, running through his brain on what word defined which before answering (silently hoped that it was a correct answer). “Six weeks.” His palms started to sweat. The living room was silent except for their voices which irked Yixing tremendously, and to think that he was used to the silence by then.

            “More than a month, huh.” She rummaged through her tote bag and let out a black wallet, a black wallet that the owner could only have been a male. She placed it on the coffee table. Yixing traveled his gaze to her red, manicured nails with interest. They were long, resembling talons and looked bloody. But the woman’s voice snapped him out from his thoughts, “Give it to Junmyeon, understand?” Yixing nodded, eyes fixated to his lap while he fidgeted with his fingers. “Tell him that Hwang Miyoung stopped by. I'm leaving.”

            'Hwang Miyoung?' Yixing wondered. 'Is that her name?'

            She stood up as she smoothed-out her dress and arranged her long tresses. Yixing thought she looked like those girls in the books that Heechul-hyung made him read. What was it called? Fairy... something? Although those girls don't have long, red finger nails. Witches do have it though. His train of thought was broken as she spoke again, more to herself than to him, “Troublesome jerk. I should have just called.”

            As soon as she left, Yixing ran to the closet and grabbed an air freshener. Next thing was the whole place smelled of fresh lemons instead of the suffocating perfume just a while ago. He sat back on his previous position and contemplated on what had just happened. It didn't take Yixing a wild guess to know her identity. He was sure Junmyeon has an intimate relationship with her judging by the fact that Junmyeon didn't come home last night, and the night before that.

            Yixing stared at the wallet laid innocently on the coffee table.

            And somehow, he felt like crying.

            He locked himself in his room, leaving the object there for Junmyeon to find it himself when he comes back.

+

            Yixing only came out of the room a few minutes past midnight. He was planning to take a couple of hours nap but it somehow stretched to eight hours. And because of that, he felt restless. His bone felt like jelly and he somehow stink since he didn’t took a shower since yesterday.

            It was dark outside his room. After all, he missed his usual routine to switch on the lights just half an hour before the sun sets. So, that also meant Junmyeon didn't come home tonight again. 'He must be at her place then.' The sudden thought of that woman made Yixing glanced towards the coffee table and the wallet was still there, left untouched.

            For some reason, he was incredibly pissed off. Yixing refused to mull over the reason. He wouldn't admit it was jealousy just yet. He and Junmyeon have barely conversed at all. There were a few factors that Yixing concluded to be the cause of it. The main factor was of course the language barrier. But that seem to be a really lame excuse for two people who don't have the mutual feeling to get to know each other. Yixing believed that actions were by far the most interactive way to communicate with each other compared to words anyways.

            The other factor that contributed to this whole ordeal was Junmyeon rarely made an effort to start a conversation with him. It was always Yixing. With his limited Hangul, Yixing would always try his best to initiate a chat with the older man using such phrases like “Morning!”, “Want breakfast?”, “Drive safe”, “How was your day?”, “Have you eaten?” and “Goodnight!”

            Yixing tried his best. But Junmyeon would always reply in ‘one words’ which made Yixing frustrated. Sometimes Yixing wondered if it was one of Junmyeon's talents or something. If his mood was relatively good during the mornings, the older would muttered, “Morning,” with a bored expression on his face. On most times, Junmyeon would just hummed in acknowledgment with a tinge of annoyance in his tone. But there was a time when Junmyeon was obviously in a bad mood but Yixing greeted him anyways and ended up being ignored.

            It left Yixing depressed the whole part of that day.

            The sound of door opening and closing broke Yixing from his reverie. He was in the middle of pouring milk into a glass in the semi-opened kitchen when Junmyeon came to his view looking extremely tired. Yixing was surprised the man came back home. He was so sure that Junmyeon would not be returning for the night. Still remained in surprise, the two have a staring match for a minute before Junmyeon lost the eye contact first and dragged his feet towards his room with not as much of a hello. Feeling upset, Yixing called out, “Junmyeon-shi.”

            Junmyeon stopped on his tracks and turned to look at Yixing. His face showed that he obviously didn't want to entertain any of Yixing's silly questions but the man merely sighed. “What?”

            “Hwang Miyoung came this afternoon,” Yixing wasn’t sure if the woman was a noona or younger but Junmyeon's shocked expression at Yixing's mention of the name just confirmed Yixing's suspicions that morning. He wanted to inform the man that 'It was okay. She stopped by to return your wallet' but instead the thing that came out was, “Who is she?”

            Junmyeon was hesitant to answer Yixing's question. Earlier that late afternoon, Miyoung attacked him with barbed questions as soon as he answered her call. She demanded to know his relations with Yixing, how long was Yixing going to stay with him and such. Honestly, the questions tired him out and gave him a headache. And there was an emergency in the hospital forcing him to work extra hours. Now, all he could think about was his soft, fluffy bed. But his day wasn't over yet when he came home to a curious Yixing. “She's my fiancé,” he answered with a sigh.

            Yixing didn't understand. 'Fiancé?' That was his first time of hearing it. He was absolutely sure it wasn't dictated in his One-on-One Hangul book. He wondered if the word meant a good thing or a bad thing to him.

            Seeing Yixing's deer caught on the headlights expression, Junmyeon explained, “You know the word girlfriend?” Yixing nodded after hearing the familiar word. “It means the same to fiancé,” Junmyeon continued garnering Yixing's full attention. “But fiancé is a higher level than that.”

Now, Yixing was confused again. “Higher level?” he asked.

Getting annoyed, Junmyeon exclaimed, “Take it this way Yixing-ah. She is a long-time girlfriend, understand?” and with that Junmyeon left for his room.

            Meanwhile, Yixing was in a state of shock. His grasp on the glass unknowing shaking. He was staring at particularly nothing. Like this, one phrase kept making a repeat on his – long-time girlfriend. Yixing was spot on regarding Junmyeon's relationship with Miyoung but he didn't know that hearing Junmyeon himself confirming it would turn him into this.

            It was a bad thing then, he concluded.

            Yixing didn't know when he started to feel this way. And he was truthfully scared. He once had felt it with a dashing man named Kris who claimed to be Canadian (Yixing snorted) but it went wrong and the other had left him. From then on he was assured that he would never felt it again. But Yixing was horribly mistaken. In the end, Yixing left for his room too and remained awake the whole night.

            And the black wallet lay forgotten on the coffee table until morning came.

+

            There were eyebags that goes down to the top of his cheekbones the next morning. He managed to catch only 2 hours of sleep. By six in the morning, Yixing caved in to the state of consciousness and decided to take a shower first before going grocery shopping. Fortunately, the 24-hour convenience store was just right across their lavish apartment.

            As Yixing stepped out of his room, he was greeted by the usual silence and he couldn’t help but glanced at the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. The door was closed and obviously the occupant was also missing. This shot down Yixing’s mood instantly. He hoped that Junmyeon would have a much deserved rest today and Yixing would prepared something nice for him as soon as the other showed up.

            Perhaps he should bake a Chocolate Strawberry cake as well as Yixing’s way of apologizing for being intrusive to Junmyeon’s personal life last night. His eyes strayed towards the coffee table on reflex.

            The wallet’s gone.