captain’s log / day after christmas

Hanbin places the cup down on the table and grins at the figure sitting opposite him. The café is packed, and the souls around him speak in a language he isn’t familiar with – but the only thing that matters to him at that point of time is the presence of the boy facing him, and the aroma of freshly brewed Arabica.  They spend a few hours in the quietude of the chilly morning, basking in raw freedom. They then find themselves sitting shoulder to shoulder in a bus as it drives by buildings, mostly with glass as their façade. Hanbin smiles at the reflection of their smiling faces and leans against the boy’s narrow shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh flowers mixed with the crisp texture of cologne. The road trip resumes as the bus continues on a straight road, and Hanbin drifts off to sleep as the boy beside him reaches over to grab his hand, their fingers interlocked.

Jinhwan wakes up with lines from the stack of papers imprinted on his cheek. As he blinks at his watch on his left wrist, he barely contains his squeal and peels himself off the surface of the glass table and rushes to ensure that he was presentable before leaving the room with his coat. As he rushes towards the ward, it dawns on him that its been days since he had proper sleep as a result of his reluctance to return home. He didn’t like a home empty when he returned after a day of work – he had grown used to having the sound of the water kettle on, the droning of the ceiling fan set to the highest speed on a summer’s evening and the air-conditioner wheezing as a result of its old age on a winter morning. He didn’t feel home because of the absence of rhythms written with a knife against the chopping board, he didn’t feel home because of the emptiness permeating the room as he smelt nothing but the musty scent of old wooden furniture – he didn’t feel home because his sister wasn’t around, because he was alone. He rubs his eyes and stifles a yawn before pushing the door open, inhaling the piercing scent of rose air fresheners – at least he wasn’t all that numb. Yet he pauses in the middle of the room and tilts his head to the left; he had never seen such a scene before. He then decides that he must’ve gotten the time wrong, but the sun is shining relatively brightly as it shines in from the translucent window panes, casting shadows on the pastel pink hospital floor. The clock on the wall facing the bed reads nine in the morning, yet his patient lies curled up in a ball on the bed – and he isn’t frowning, there’s no hint of discomfort. Inching towards his patient, he then eyes the Christmas card which is still standing on the table silently, its strength wavering from the wind from the air-conditioning. Jinhwan lets himself fall onto the chair beside Hanbin’s bed with a soft thud and groans as he notices that he had forgotten to bring his clipboard along – but he feels as though for once he doesn’t need it; there’s no need to scribble things down in capital letters reminding him of ways to help Hanbin feel better, there’s no need to classify his notes under urgent and groan at 3am in the morning about how he feels like Hanbin deserves better because it seems like he’s found what he needs. Jinhwan can’t help but smile, his lips curling in all the right angles to paint a genuine soft grin – and chuckles ensue. He watches as the boy’s lips curl similarly, and perhaps if he were to be awake at the moment, the line, which connected them both would illustrate a parallelogram of ataraxia. Jinhwan spends an hour curled up on his seat, observing the manner in which Hanbin’s dry lips had always been tilted upwards on the left end, and how his teeth showed faintly through his slightly parted lips; and it dawns on him that this boy is beautiful. And he truly does deserve the world, regardless of how hackneyed this thought was. He should’ve been given the finest of roses, fragrances – he should have been blessed with a peaceful environment to compose, to write. He should’ve been left to indulge in beautiful reveries.

He should’ve been-

“A blotch of pastel amongst the grey skies.” Jinhwan finds himself muttering softly, and the boy shifts from his original position to lie on his back. Jinhwan’s eyes widen as he watches the boy bring his left hand up to rub his eyes before barely opening them. He turns to face the doctor and in that instant, he grins.

“Hey, I said that line before.”

“Oh, you’re awake.” Jinhwan flusters and pushes his legs off the chair, letting off a loud thump. Hanbin grimaces at the sudden sound and pushes himself off his bed. As he does so, Jinhwan can only swallow hard and take deep breaths while helping him up.

“Good morning,” Hanbin smiles slightly as he sits up and blinks at the doctor next to him, his line of vision pausing as he observes his shoulders for a few seconds – afterwhich he smiles with greater vibrancy, “That line earlier, I said it once before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Christmas Eve. When you wound up sleeping on the chair and all.”

“Oh.” Jinhwan stutters and swallows hard, “Well did you sleep well? It’s the first time you slept past 6am- and you were smiling in your sleep.”

“I didn’t have the nightmare but instead I had a pleasant reverie. A little dream in Thailand where I was accompanied by the boy in the dream. We went places, spent time in a café but he never spoke; yet his presence of was sufficient. It was as though I finally met a dream I didn’t want to wake up from and as I heard your voice and woke up, I could literally feel myself holding onto the scenes in the picturesque evening.”

“The boy’s identity?” Jinhwan finds his fingers lingering on the side of his coat and he tightens his grip for no reason.

“Oh you’re going to be surprised.”

Jinhwan stays silent and merely blinks at Hanbin.

“It’s you.”

AN: happy new year!! and thanks for sticking around, and final update will be up before 010115 ends!! have a great 2015 ahead!