CLOSURE

Jinhwan dreaded the time passing. He was in the safest place he could be, and June was with him. It would be perfect if they could just stay like that. He could just count the days and nights, and not complain. The blue in the sky was a thing of beauty before Jinhwan quickly realized it meant that the day had broken, and it would only be a matter of time before June would be gone again. June, after all, had never stayed long enough. Jinhwan had never loved the night so much.

It was the first time that they had a conversation that didn’t revolve around the mysterious entity that was June. When Jinhwan approached the subject, asking about where June goes when he disappears, June merely replied, “I didn’t even have a name until you gave me one,” and then cheekily adding, “What makes you think I’ll remember?” And so, Jinhwan just decided not to broach the subject, if not needed. Instead they talked like old friends, speaking about everything under the sun that they could think of, for as long as time allowed.

It was because of this seemingly trivial conversation that Jinhwan learned that June liked the color gray “because it’s not black or white”, and that his preferred genre was “coffee shop music”. It was because of June that Jinhwan laughed like he hadn’t in a long time. He wasn’t like his other friends. June’s friendship did not come from Jinhwan’s past, and so whatever happened in his past was irrelevant. To June, Jinhwan was just Jinhwan, and to Jinhwan, they were just June and Jinhwan. Jinhwan didn’t have to protect June from himself, didn’t feel the need to spare his feelings.

Still, June was a mystery. But Jinhwan knew better than to beat a dead horse. June could not give him the answers he needed if June didn’t have the answers himself. For now, it didn’t matter what June was. All that mattered was that he was here. Jinhwan could only wish they had more time, or even that they could be frozen in time. He honestly wouldn’t mind.

However, that couldn’t be their reality. And he knew that because June kept looking out at the sky like he was wary of the time, because the fight against the weight of his eyelids was a losing battle. June knew this too, or else he would not have asked Jinhwan to lie down on his bed so he could have some sleep. Jinhwan obliged, knowing there would be no negotiating and that he would really rather use what little energy he had left to stare at June.

June tucked Jinhwan under his duvet, making sure it was clean and flat, and already Jinhwan was feeling the louder call of sleep. June patted the duvet on top of Jinhwan’s chest, accompanied by this sweet smile on a faraway look on his face as though he was recalling a fond memory, and without much thought, he said, “My parents used to always do this.” And then as he was moving to sit down beside Jinhwan he stopped halfway, looked straight at Jinhwan and said under his breath, “I don’t remember that.”

“I didn’t remember that,” June corrected himself, and then sat down fully. He was still in his thoughts, not completely ignoring Jinhwan but not engaging him in conversation either. It just looked like he allowed Jinhwan to listen in to one of his monologues.

Jinhwan was more than happy to do just that, and he had a smile on his face as he watched June in silence. He tried to keep focus, taking note of the slope of June’s nose, the way his jet-black hair fell on his eyebrows, how his full lips curled up in a smile as his eyes traced the clouds outside his window.

“They’d read me bedtime stories, too. It’s like, I have a past now!” June turned to Jinhwan then, and his eyes crinkled, white teeth showing themselves for the first time. Jinhwan noticed the little dimples below June’s lips, too, despite the weight of his lids.

Jinhwan could only smile back as June reached for his hair and patted it twice. Jinhwan felt the desire to draw for the first time in a long while, if only to commit the look on June’s face onto paper. If he forgot things so much then it would not be wise to rely on his brain to remember. But of course, he was falling asleep as his breaths grew deeper and June’s voice lulled him like a lullaby, or a bedtime story.

With a quieter voice, June said, “Of course. If it’s a good thing then it should be remembered.” A kiss on his forehead like he was reenacting his parents’ bedtime routine on him and the words “Remember only the good things from now on,” later, and it was like June was allowing Jinhwan to be at complete ease, by himself, because he would leave.

Later in the day, when the sun was high up at an angle, and Jinhwan had slept all the sleep he needed, he woke up feeling refreshed and energized like he hadn’t in a long time. But there was a sense of rush when he felt around his bed and looked around his room for June whilst knowing deep inside that he wouldn’t be around. When he let that sink in, he rested his head back on his pillow and sighed as he looked at his ceiling.

He stared at the expanse of his white ceiling, at the two panels connected at the center by a series of nails hammered at precise intervals. If his life was represented by those nails, then he would have to assign a certain time of his life to each nail. He would go from point A to point B and so on…until he got to present day. But if he were to trace the whole line of nails like that, he would have