... and I swore I'd never write something like this...  TT_TT

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“Is this is seat taken?”

The deep baritone voice rattled him out of his reverie and he slowly lifted his eyes to the newly placed coffee cup on the opposite side of the table. Then his eyes snapped upwards to meet the owner of the voice.

The first thing he noticed was the eyes; shining with life and sparkling with buoyancy- staring at him with expectance. Then his eyes took in the rest of his face, the short cropped dark hair, his high cheek bones and well defined features.

Perfection.

“…this is the only vacant spot. Everywhere else is full” the stranger pressed, probably taking his prolonged silence as unwillingness.

It took him a moment to realize that he was staring at the man, and when he did, he quickly averted his gaze. A sweeping glance around him confirmed what the man had said; the previously barren café was now jam-packed with customers.

He gave a curt nod.

                    ~~~

It would be a blatant lie if he denied ever going back to that same coffee shop just to get a glimpse of that handsome stranger.

There was something that pulled him towards the man- Eric, he had found out his name soon after- something he couldn’t really explain in words; something almost magnetic. Lust… maybe, or maybe he just craved for some companionship after all those lonely years.

He returned the very next day, determined to speak to the other man.

But that first day was the only day he saw the man alone. After that Eric was always surrounded by people and he never got the chance to speak to him. He sat in a corner, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold, following all of Eric’s movements from the moment the man walked into the café to the minute he left with his friends.

One last day…

That was what he told himself as he went day and day again to the shop.

One last look and I’ll be gone… I’m not going to come back tomorrow… this is the last time…

It was pathetic.

It felt pathetic.

After a week of that miserable repetition he decided to give up. For good.

But that last day seemed to be his lucky day.

                      ~~~

He’d loathed his life before, he’d loathed who he was, what he was. He hated what he did. He hated every passing day and he hated every new one.

But Eric changed that.

He started to embrace every new day with hope, with happiness. He started to see his life in a different perspective. He started to love himself.

It seemed as if Eric had changed him for the better.

This was love… He thought- and was happy that he'd finally found it.

                      ~~~

He’d made a promise. More to himself than to the man he loved as he threw in a fistful of loose soil into the shallow grave.

He promised death on them as he watched the man he loved disappear under the mounting gravel.

He’d promised he’d avenge him.

Every last one of them will suffer...

                        ~~~

He never cried because tears were, more or less out of the question.

They wouldn’t change anything. Crying wouldn’t bring him back. It wouldn’t turn back time and let him right the mistakes he had made.

The only thing it would do is break him. It would make him weak.

No. tears can’t help him.

But revenge would.

                  ~~~

His hatred festered like an open wound; spreading through his body, turning him septic and slowly eating him alive. It left no trace of the man he used to be.

His volatile state was apparent to his friends and they tried to dissuade him from the war path he was trying to take, told him that hit was nothing personal- told him they’d killed Eric for purely ‘business reasons’.

But he knew better.

He’d lived long enough in the system to know how it worked. Eric was just a distraction for one of its employees.

No, the hit was not business. It was personal.

                    ~~~

In the cold confines of his room he deliberates and ponders, makes schemes and plans for that perfect revenge.

He stalks them for days, lurking in the dark shadows of back alleys and pavements. He keeps watch over them, memorizing their schedules and routines, planning the best time to attack.

He’ll strike when the time came, and they’ll never know what hit them.

                    ~~~

He’d never felt that drive before…. that rush he felt when he killed those pathetic bastards. The pleasure he felt as he destroyed their lives completely. They used to be his friends; they used to be his family. But try as he might he couldn’t find an ounce of sympathy to spare as he charged them with a gun, when he looked into their eyes as he shot them in the head or as he watched the life drain out of their bodies.

He didn’t feel himself change as his choice of weapons changed… as his priority went from ‘killing’ to ‘torturing till death’.

Bullets were too good to be wasted on such scum.  That was his reasoning.

So he switched to knives. Well versed in many varieties of weaponry, it took him little time to master it.

… where to cut to inflict the maximum pain… where to stab to make them beg and scream… What nerves to damage to maximize the pain tenfold... how to torture them so that they would plead for their own death…

No. He wasn’t evil… He was just avenging his loss.

Anger and hatred drove him to do things he’d never imagined he’d do, making him sink lower than the lowest of his ex-comrades. And he wasn’t sorry. Not even a single bit.

He had become someone void of emotion, almost inhuman, without even realizing it.

                 ~~~

He hauled himself up the steep staircase with the help of the handrail. His legs kept buckling with every few steps he took, and he felt how quickly life was draining out of his body. It was sheer determination that kept him going.

He was almost there… almost…

                  ~~~

He was finally there…

           ...in their small sanctuary.  

It was a rooftop of some abandoned building they had discovered in the early stages of their relationship. It rose above the rest of the buildings in the vicinity thus giving a clear and brilliant view of the landscape; from the busy city streets to the mountains that spread into the far horizon.

It was their small ‘get-away’; the bubble that protected them from the harsh world. They made their future plans there, talked about their likes and dislikes, about places they’d like to visit, about love and life.

They celebrated small moments of joy and gave each other comfort when sad. They celebrated what they had.

The place was small and isolated, unworthy to most of the people who came across it. But for him that rooftop was a treasure trove that held an unlimited wealth of precious memories.  

Of him… of Eric… of those perfect years…

His eyes shimmered with long-repressed tears.

It had taken him years to repay that memory Eric left behind. And now at last, it seems as if he could join him.

He crumpled to the floor as darkness invaded his vision…

               ~~~

Eric’s face flashed in front of his blurry eyes.

Smiling… happy… a ghost from years ago… Before he happened.

He reached out a shaking hand and tried to grab him, tried to touch the man in front of him. But all his hand encountered was thin air.

Just an illusion...

Eric was not here. He was not here to witness his downfall. He was not here to look after him. He was not here during his last living moments.

And he chuckled.

What a shame.

Then came his distant voice.

“Is this seat taken?”… that fateful day they’d first met in the café.

“yah Lee Minwoo… are you stupid???”… that day when he’d told Eric the truth about him… that incredulous look on Eric’s face when he asked him whether he wanted to end things between them.

Memories from another life time. When they were happy… when they were together…

And then finally…

“I’ll never let you go… you know that right?”

“I know”

And Eric had kept his word… to his dying day…

A gentle smile graced his lips as his last breath dissolved into the humid summer air…