SECURITY

Jinhwan lifted his head up off his arms where he’d been resting it. He looked around the premises, eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness. He felt the floor with his hands where he was seated, recognizing the texture of the carpet, and the crisp, burnt bit where Mino had put off his cigarette. It came to him easily, the fact that he was in his own room, and he wondered how he got home. After all, the last thing he remembered was drinking from Seunghoon’s glass.

A sharp pain shot up in his head, materializing in a grunt that involuntarily came out of his mouth. He was about to stand up when his curtain swayed from a sudden gush of wind, allowing some light to trickle in and bring his attention to the figure that was sitting right below his window.

This was the second time that this happened in just a few days, and for others, that would have been two times too many, but unlike with Mino, Jinhwan was calm this time, like he could recognize the person before he even saw him and trusted that he was safe with this person. And maybe he did. Maybe he’d recognize him everywhere.

He held his breath and stared, maybe even said a little prayer in there, too. He thought it would break his heart if this wasn’t the person he was hoping it would be, that is, if his heart could break even more.

Jinhwan was close to convincing himself that this wasn’t it, that it was just a statue, or a mere figment of his imagination. Because, even if he could see him in the darkness, he didn’t move an inch to tell Jinhwan that he was indeed there, alive. That was, until his chest heaved slowly and Jinhwan heard him sigh.

As if on cue, a flash of lightning struck outside, casting white light on June’s jet black hair for a second. And, as if that was enough warning, rain began to pour in a harsh torrent that Jinhwan had to quickly get up to close the window.

It felt like Jinhwan had wished countless of times for June to appear again, but now that he was there, he couldn’t think of words to say. He just looked outside his window, drawing the curtains closer, and questioned if June really was there. He’d been wanting to see him so much so that there was a chance he’d just dreamed him there. But he was positive. And, despite the ongoing storm, the moment felt still as ever; the darkness enveloped him, wrapping him in silence. It was almost like he was alone, and he couldn’t dislike the feeling. These past few weeks he only ever felt safe when he was alone, and this—being alone with June—was more than welcome.

Jinhwan smiled to himself, leaving the curtains as they were and switching his bedside lamp on. Unceremoniously he plopped down next to June, and searched his face for hints of change like you would a long-lost friend.

June was doing the same. He was staring at Jinhwan, as if he was searching for something, and the latter just assumed it was because he missed him too. Jinhwan couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face, but the longer that June stared, the more he looked concerned, and this pulled the smile that Jinhwan wore upside down.

“What’s wrong?” Jinhwan asked, a hand automatically reaching out to June out of worry.

June shook his head and let out an exasperated laughter that only sounded weary.

“It’s nothing.” He took Jinhwan’s hand in both of his own and examined that too, tracing the lines on Jinhwan’s palm with his fingers.

June’s eyes started welling up, and he curled down to hide his face while still squeezing Jinhwan’s hand.

Jinhwan felt his heart break at the sight of June, and he forced himself to ignore the amazement of having felt for a pain other than his own; he didn’t think it was still possible.

“What is it, hm?” He pressed further, inching closer to the boy so he could hold him with his free arm.

“I told you it’s nothing,” June answers, his voice muffled. “I just wish you’d never know,” he adds, voice a tad quieter, like he didn’t want Jinhwan to hear.

“What was that?”

“I’m just asking: If something so horrible happens to you, would you rather just forget about it?”

June pulled away so he could lift his head up to Jinhwan, and the latter tried to not fuss over the wetness in June’s eyes so he could give him a logical answer: "Yes, of course. Why would I want to remember something so horrible?”

“Right?” June asked for confirmation, and Jinhwan nodded his head in response.

“Then forget it all,” June told him, squeezing his hand. “But don’t forget about this.”

June, staring intently into Jinhwan’s eyes, leaned closer to the boy, and the latter forced his eyes closed, squeezing June’s hand in anticipation.

He felt June’s warmth draw closer to him, followed by the light, feather-like touch on his forehead.

And then it was morning.

When Jinhwan came to, the first thing that registered to him was the soft pillow cushioning his face. He quite liked the feeling of it, of feeling like he didn’t really have to wake up just yet. Slowly he opened his eyes, and he felt the faint rays of sunlight filtering through the window land on his face, and he had to lift his head up. Maybe he needed to wake up after all.

The sense of unfamiliarity jolted him awake, and Jinhwan got up on his elbows as he scanned his surroundings, and he imagined this was what heaven would look like: just a room full of soft and white not-much-else. Because it was just that, a room so nondescript that nothing in it told a story or gave him a clue where he was. Maybe heaven was too good to be true. Jinhwan knew he couldn’t possibly belong in heaven. He also knew that heaven couldn’t smell like vomit.

One mistaken hand swipe into his sticky hair later and Jinhwan hurried to the bathroom. It was