The thing that got to me the most: his voice. Hearing his real voice in person, not as an artificial sound and not through some cheap earphones, was remarkable. I felt as if my emotions were spiralled into a violent wave, and even after all these years I never even fathomed what those emotions were. One thing I knew, though, was that my heart—overwhelmed—was thumping hard in my chest and everything around me seemed to melt away.

“You’re still a cry-baby,” Hanbin teased. Ah, there it was again. His voice.

I couldn’t help but smile at his response. Truly, he was someone who said things as transparent as they were. His honest humour being one of his greatest virtue. Hanbin was born with a talent to drive a situation into the direction he wanted. To turn a serious one into something as light-hearted as it seemed right then. Still, I had this strange sensation in my chest that didn’t remove the anxiety I felt.

Before I knew it, he was beside me, patting me on the back like a child. Hanbin reached out, held my hand and told me, “Let’s go, Hayi.”

“Hey, you two!” Jiwon said. “You better not run away and miss the ceremony. I’ll kill you.”

Hanbin chuckled.

. . .

Still holding hands, Hanbin and I walked along the corridor that connected all of the rooms together, we basked in this wonderful silence for a long time, and that in itself was more than enough for me. He kept squeezing my hand every now and then, and it made me wonder what my cold hand must have felt against his. His hand was still as warm as it was when it last held mine—the day we ran from the rain. It was an innocent feeling. Of course, I’d feel my heart beat with the force of a thunder whenever I realized it, but at the time, I was hardly thinking about the warm hand that was holding mine. I was thinking about the two of us. I was thinking about the man next to me. I was thinking about Hanbin.

How those two years of waiting came down to that very moment. Hanbin was finally next to me.

And then we halted to a stop.

I paused to look at him, and he only stared back with those unwavering eyes of his.

“I’m sorry,” Hanbin began ever so quietly. I tried to speak, but I felt the words catching in my throat. What could I possibly say next? Where the hell were those words that I had locked up inside of me for so long and why weren’t they coming out of— “I really missed you.”

I could only stare back at him. I realised then how two years was plenty enough to change a person. Stood in front of me, was not the boy who I had last seen at the bus stop. Instead, a man that was taller than he already was before; his hands were bigger, face more handsome, his voice deeper than I ever realized it to be; maybe he even turned out to be a better person than he already was. That made me wonder how those two years had affected me, as well.

Hanbin looked disappointed with my reaction. “It’s starting soon, they need me back over there since I’m Jiwon’s best-man, after all. I’ll walk you to the venue,” he said, his voice altogether too composed. Hanbin clamped his mouth shut and started walking again.

I could tell that all kinds of thoughts were whirling around in his head. I kept silent for a while and walked by his side.

“What you did was really unfair, you know?” I finally said.

There was a pleasant spark of surprise in Hanbin’s eyes. A mischievous smile graced his lips, and my memories suddenly jogged back to how I first met Hanbin; how he’d flash that same smile whenever I dropped by with the school folders.

“Hayi,” he returned, with that childish grin of his—unchanged, even after all these years. “I’ll make it up to you.”

. . .

Not long before I entered the venue, the ceremony began.

It reminded me of the first wedding I’d ever been to, my uncle’s, when I was about seven. Everyone dressed formally, the preparations, the pink rose petals on the carpet, the music, everything else—it was a wonderful day. As a little girl, I used to wonder what my next wedding experience would be like. It was surprising, really, because not once did I ever stop to think that the second wedding I’d go to would be my best friend’s.

Taken aback by Hanbin’s sudden return, I couldn’t seem to focus at all or remember the wedding in a lot of detail. All I could really recall apart from the pleasant atmosphere was the anticipation on everyone’s faces before the bride walked in. Hana was very beautiful with her white dress, so beautiful that all the guests became overwhelmed when they saw her, arm-to-arm with her father.

Jiwon smiled throughout the entire thing.

I kept on thinking that Jiwon’s smile must have left a favourable impression on everyone who hadn’t seen him smile like that, because by the time the ceremony ended I heard people all around talk about how handsome he was. I guess it was fair to say that people seemed happy.

Nevertheless, it was an emotional day for some, too, especially for Hana’s family and Jiwon’s mother. They kept crying almost every minute. Tears of joy. Or maybe tears of letting go. I wasn’t sure, but the expressions on their faces really were no joke. I couldn’t grasp how expressions could be intense and gentle at the same time, but they were.

It was a very beautiful evening.

. . .

Soon after the ceremony ended, all the guests headed to the reception. It was a huge place, orange carpeted; decorated with violet flowers, each hung across the white walls; a white aura in the room rivalled that of the chandeliers above; the venue had large, round tables with white cloth all around, and on each table there were name cards.

On the table with Jiwon’s family’s name cards, there were two more: Hanbin’s and mine. Feeling a little awkward, Hanbin and I sat down with Jiwon’s cousins. There were about eight of us in one big table. Occasionally, Jiwon’s cousins asked us about various topics, or if we were feeling hungry, but most of the time they were quiet and spoke only amongst themselves, leaving us to do the same.

Hanbin and I talked. Nothing deep—especially nothing about what happened during the two years we were apart—just a few casual conversations about how the food tasted like, or what songs we liked to listen to every now and then.

“Oasis?”

He shook his head, nevertheless still smiling. “Their music freakin’ bored me. I felt like I was listening to the same song throughout their whole albums.”

“Champagne Supernova was a good song, though.”

“True.”

Throughout the night in the wedding reception, everybody listened as people from all over the tables gave their speeches for the bride and groom. Though everybody’s speeches were genuine and heartfelt, the guests got the most laughs out of Jiwon’s high school basketball team who told embarrassing stories about Jiwon.

“To think this sort of guy is getting married,” his friend concluded, “is really beyond me.” Arousing even more laughter from the crowd.

Soon, after the first dance, the dancehall was available for everybody to use.

“Reminds you of western movies, doesn’t it?” Hanbin started off, as we watched everyone in the place. “You know, when they go to prom and stuff.”

To be honest, it was a funny sight. We both sat in a daze, watching an incredible variety of people dancing with each other. Families, old people, couples, a few drunks.

“I heard you left town, too,” Hanbin added shortly after. “You went to London.”

 I looked at him. “I wanted to study English.”

“You always wanted to, I remember. You’re not staying here for good?”

“Are you?” I replied with a scoff.

“Neither.”

Silence.

“I almost gave up on you coming back,” I suddenly said. I had no idea what got into me at that time, but I ended up looking down after feeling my face burn up all of a sudden.

He simply kept quiet, waiting for more words to pour out of my mouth, even though I had no idea what I was about to say next. Luckily (or not), my voice was a step ahead of my thoughts. “That year we met, and became friends with Jiwon. The folders. That list. I was about to put it all behind me.”

He looked into my eyes for some time. “Why didn’t you?”

Just then, a great song started to play. A slow song called Have I Told You Lately by a man called Van Morrison. This song, funnily enough, was my mother’s favourite back then. I could only reminisce on my childhood, watching my parents dance to that song in the living room as they talked and talked and continued talking. Chanhyuk and I would quietly watch them from the staircase—when it was way past our bedtimes—hoping they wouldn’t see us from the corner of their eyes. We’d sneak in a few giggles here and there, and pull faces and whisper to each other, “How cheesy!”

But what I remember really thinking about back then, was how nice it must have felt for our parents to have somebody to dance with and talk to after dealing with all the hardships that went on during the day.

It was my first memory of realizing what love truly meant.

And yet not once had I thought about that memory ever since. Heck, did I ever even realize that memory existed until the same song started to play. Without me knowing, I must have held it close to my heart because hearing it after such a long time was enough to stir something inside of me.

A feeling.

Maybe it was happiness.

Hanbin stood up and reached out his hand and shouted over the music, “Dance with me!”

“I don’t know how to dance.” But almost out of reflex I still gave him my hand and stood up.

“Well, me neither.”

. . .

Having seen plenty of movies about what was meant to happen next, we tried our best to imitate those scenes. We danced. His hands on my waist, while mine on his shoulders, and then step-step, step-step.

We danced. And we talked.

Like they always have been, Hanbin’s eyes were in focus, his movements composed. Bringing his mouth to my ear, he whispered, “So, why didn’t you? Why didn’t you forget about me?”

“Forget about you?” How the hell is that even possible? I wanted to tell him. “That’s not what I meant. I thought that you weren’t coming back—and that even if you did, it wouldn’t be the same. I meant I was ready to move on. From those days and our trio. From you.”

“So, why didn’t you?” he repeated, without missing one beat.

“I was curious,” I replied. “Especially when you left like that.”

We were quiet at that. I let my eyes wander around the place to where Jiwon and Hanna could possibly be. But I couldn’t find them.

“I didn’t want to hold anyone back,” he suddenly confessed. “Not you, not Jiwon—not me. I was always scared of doing just that. Even though I wanted to live in the city so badly, there was always this gut-wrenching feeling that it wouldn’t be everything I’ve dreamed of; that I’d always want to return to you guys—that I’ll always be holding both of you back.”

“But it isn’t true.”

He shook his head. “Would you still have went to study overseas if you knew where I was, or what I was doing? Would Jiwon still drive around the country, going on business trips ever so much, if he knew the same thing?”

I only kept quiet.

“The three of us,” Hanbin continued. “We were getting so dependent on one another. I mean, one phone call from you or Jiwon, and I’m sure I would’ve taken the train back to this town in a heartbeat. In that perspective, we were holding each other back, Hayi. It was going to destroy us in the long term, and the only way I could have stopped that was to lose in touch for the meanwhile.”

Jiwon kept saying the same thing to me but I finally got it now. All this time and it was Hanbin himself who made me understand.

“You sacrificed yourself,” I said.

He looked at me. I looked at him. “I didn’t. You don’t underst—”

“For two years, you left me and Jiwon together, while you were alone this whole time. Just to save the goddamned trio, Hanbin. You did what you did to Jiwon back then. You hurt yourself so that others can breathe,” I cut in. Then, I had no idea why, but tears simply started to moisten my eyes again. I tried holding it back, and I was thankful I succeeded this time. I swallowed, and added, “Your way of doing things is really awful, you know?”

“I know. But,” he whispered. “It wasn’t all that selfless of me.”

I stayed quiet.

“I hope I don’t look pitiful to you, Hayi. That’s why I wrote you a love letter,” he said, smiling.

I scoffed, and buried my face on his chest.

And then he held me a little closer. I held him a little closer. And we kept dancing. It was the one time in a long time that I really wanted the clock to stop, and just to be there for a long time.

“Hanbin, thank you.”

. . .

You didn’t even say goodbye. Traitor. Sent 8:39am

I figured I’d leave you two up to it.
And I’m saving all of my attention for my cute wife. (*≧▽≦) Received 8:39am

Cheesy... Where are you guys headed to? Sent 8:40am

(~￣▽￣)~ Europe. Received 8:40am

What’s with the emoticon overload, Jiwon? Sent 8:40am

Hanna hates it when my messages are too blunt. ＼(>o<)ノ Received 8:41am     

Hanbin and I have been telling you that for ages…
P.S. Hanna hates nut-filled chocolate bars, too. And sharing drinks with people. Sent 8:41am

Really? (」゜ロ゜)」I mean I knew about the drinks, but not the nuts…
Looks like you know my wife better than I do. ⊙︿⊙ Received 8:41am

Haha. Have fun with this trip. Tell Hanna I said hello.
Keep in touch, alright? Sent 8:41am

We’ll send you some pictures every now and then.
See you and Hanbin in two years’ time! ー( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ Received 8:42am

One more thing.
Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say it in person. I’ll say it when I see you next time.
In two years’ time.
Thank you. Sent 8:42am

. . .

In the end, after Jiwon’s wedding, I only got to spend four days more in my hometown. My parents were more than okay to let Hanbin stay in Chanhyuk’s bedroom for those days we had left. My mother even teared up the first time she saw him again and insisted Hanbin to stay with us for the meanwhile. This time, he couldn’t refuse that offer.

As before, Hanbin and I lazed about in my house in the morning, mostly playing video games with Chanhyuk and Soohyun, and binge-watching any television series we thought was worth seeing. I was glad. Two years, and we still got along as well as we did before. Maybe even better. So for those remaining days, we let ourselves become as carefree, almost even childish, as two people could get because we knew very well that once those four days had passed, we were back to—as Hanbin called it—“the borderline between adolescence and adulthood.” Not knowing what to do, but at the same time being expected to know exactly what to do.

However, whenever the night took approach, it was a different story. Those nights, I suppose, contained deep conversations. We took long walks through the forest when the fireflies and the stars in the sky were at their brightest. And what those nights consisted of: mainly talking, gazing at our surroundings and even more talking. It was the first time the two of us had ever gone walking together or talked at such length.

We talked about all sort of things.

He told me stories that had happened to him in Seoul. At the time, Hanbin was thinking of quitting his radio show as he didn’t like the thought of it becoming too commercial, but then he received a plentiful ‘thank you’ letter from a boy. A letter about how the radio show somehow stopped the boy from doing something stupid. So Hanbin kept it on air.

“For the boy?” I asked him.

“For the ones like him, too.”

And in exchange, I told him about things that went on in London. Compared to Hanbin’s life as a radio host, I never had anything special to say, but I did tell him about the amazing people I met.

There was something gentle and wonderful whenever it was just the two of us.

The scary thing was that during those moments, I never expected four days to happen so quickly.

But it did.

. . .

Saying goodbye to my family once again, Hanbin and I took the train to Seoul—our journey lasting us up to seven hours. Between that seven hour journey, the two of us were surprisingly quiet. Our conversation seemed to revolve around generic things. So afterwards, I just got on with reading my book, while he dozed off and listened to music through his earphones. Neither of us seemed to mind.

It was really nice sharing the silence on a train ride at night. When we were tired of the conversation, and it was okay to just be alone with our thoughts and the journey ahead.

We were that comfortable with each other, we didn’t have to talk.

We arrived in Seoul at daytime. I called my parents to let them to know that I was an hour into boarding my plane. It was a short conversation, mostly consisting of my father’s nagging and my mother’s I-love-you’s.

For a while, Hanbin helped me with the luggage, where we scrolled across the busy roads that connected the train station to the airport, and then we parted ways when we reached the airport.

“I’ll see you soon, Hayi.”

“I think I can get back here around December,” I said as I was leaving. Hanbin gave me one last, heavily padded hug with his coat on, and kissed me on the forehead.

“Goodbye,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Goodbye.”

And that was that.

Hanbin and I did not need to predict the future anymore. We learned from our mistakes, and realized how much the future was slowly corroding the more we seemed to talk about it. There was no need to wonder where time would take the two of us, or what would possibly happen in two, three, or four years. All we knew was that we were going to see each other again in three months’ time.

And that alone was plenty enough for us: we were happy.

I’m happy.

Autumn has no more posts.

. . .

sweet disposition // 

i'm stoked i've finally finished this! as i mentioned before, i'm a person who usually starts what they can never finish, so finishing this is kind of a big deal for me, considering i gave up continuing this story several times along the way（πーπ）

i'd like to thank you for reading until the end! i won't forget the encouragement you've given me, it truly gave me the motivation needed to complete this. i had so much fun writing for this (and making it up as i go), as well as reading the things you guys share with me!

thank you!

it's a goodbye for now.

with love, cas. 

start: Oct 24, 2014
finish: Apr 29, 2015