September 13th, 2016

10:05 PM

Nights like these were good; there wasn’t any fighting or tension, and it was peaceful in the one roomed apartment. There was reason for that: he was gone. Jongin had been out of the house for the past two nights, and there was no word from him about his whereabouts—that smirking mouth stayed silent. There hadn’t been a fight the night before, he just never came home. At first Eunhye was afraid he would come back in another drunken rage, but he never did. No calls or mention of his whereabouts, just silence. Of course there was a part of her that was worried about him, but that feeling was quickly overshadowed by the fact that he was finally gone. The small woman leaned up against the counter, quietly drinking a glass of water. Her lips touched the rim of the glass, softly smiling into the drink.

But there was no way to relax in that house, that torn house. It was filled with many memories that made Eunhye’s heart turn over in warm love or dismantled connection. Everywhere she looked she saw a moment of harmony or complete disarray. This house was Jongin’s—he marked it as his own, it wasn’t theirs. The walls were lined with pictures of his life, moments that he wanted to preserve. The rooms were as cold as his icy stare when he didn’t get his way or when something was done in the wrong manner. None of it was hers, it was all his. She might as well belong to him.

Eunhye’s smile faded as she thought about that concept: was she just like everything else in that cold house, just another one of Jongin’s possessions? She turned to set the glass back down on the counter quickly. She didn’t want to think about things like that when she was feeling so well, but her hand slipped, and the glass missed its target. It fell to the floor with a loud clash and shattered into little pieces in a matter of seconds. The noise rang through the quiet house, taking away the sense of peace it held. A breathless woman stood in a state of rigidness as she looked down at the mixture of shine and liquid.

It was as simple as that, right? How something so solid and sturdy as a glass could break with one wrong step? Something that held any item to a certain carrying capacity, something that could be looked over so easily and yet be depended on so much could falter with one crack. But a glass could be molded to anyone's liking, with a little heat of course. How could a glass mimic her so easily? Eunhye’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor—just like the glass. Liquid began to pool in her eyes, and they soon overflowed. Tears ran down the sides of her face, and a rock filled . They kept coming, and she didn’t fight to keep them from pooling over for it felt good to cry. Those hours of acting built up inside of her. She kept telling herself that she was grateful that Jongin wasn’t there, that he wasn’t consuming her gaze, but she knew he was coming back. He would always come back to what was his; she was his. He had said it so many times. He wouldn’t leave without taking her down further. Their relationship—her captivity—wouldn’t end like that.

The door swung open with a light thud. A pair of dress shoes and a leather coat followed after it. Jongin was home. Eunhye reacted quickly by wiping the tears from her face and hurrying to pick up the broken glass. He rounded the corner, threw something onto the counter, and paused to look at the mess before him. She could already feel his eyes on her; a gaze that onced looked with love now stared with fire. Her breath increased, and her movements became messy which resulted in glass shards falling from her hands. With a tight grip, blood started flowing from the points of puncture. She didn’t dare look into his eyes, not knowing if they were filled with anger, pity, or happiness.   

“Pick it up quickly, and take care of your hands. I don’t want to deal with a mess,” Jongin said in a nonchalant tone. At least he wasn’t angry. Eunhye sighed softly to herself and threw away the broken shards. Many of the sharp ends dug their way into her tender skin, leaving behind little streams blood, and she winced at the stinging pain. Jongin retreated to the bathroom and the shower, leaving Eunhye clenching her hands. The peace shattered when the glass broke, now he was home. She proceeded to the kitchen sink and turned the water on slightly, soaking her shaking hands in the cold. She left them like that, watching the blood wash down the drain. The shower was still running, and no movement was heard within the room.

A pair of hands found their way around the woman’s small frame, placing themselves in hers. Jongin stood behind Eunhye, cleaning her bloodied hands. “I told you to take care of it quickly,” he said in a quiet voice. Eunhye heard no feeling in it, not of love nor hatred, but it was plagued with tiredness and weary. Her body stiffened at the closeness, feeling the contrasting heat from his touch. She turned her head slightly to look at him: his brown eyes were fixated on her hands, cleaning them of their mess. His own were rough, but held a soft manner. The contact was strange, but this action hid a distant feeling. That feeling, spreading from his touch, concealed an apology.

Jongin finished his job and turned off the water. He retrieved a cloth and tugged at Eunhye’s waist, bringing her over to a small table; there lay a first aid kit. She was confused by his actions, but didn’t question them, she just followed. He sat across from her, taking her hands in his, and wiped off the water and fresh blood. He quietly did his work bandaging up her hands. There was no words exchanged between the two, it was a thick silence. She made sure to keep still. She knew he could turn at any second, back into a man with hard eyes, but there was one thing that she liked about this moment, he never looked at her, he just focused on his work. Once finished with his efforts, he let go of her hands. A calming sense went over the stiff woman as her skin parted with his. The two of them sat quietly as he fixed up the first aid kit, and as he set it to the side, he finally put an end to the almost calming silence.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I have been for the past two nights?” Jongin inquired, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms against his chest. His eyes were finally on Eunhye’s. She kept hers on her bandaged hands, at Jongin’s work; they trembled slightly. She had to pick her next words carefully, not wanting to upset him in this abnormal mood.

“You said you would call if you ever were in trouble. Since you never called, I figured you were alright,” Eunhye said quietly, still looking at the white fabric that soaked up her blood. She bit her lip, hoping his response was positive.

“Mhhh… that’s right. I did say that. But,” Jongin paused, changing his position: he leaned onto the table with his elbows, hooking his hands together, “Didn’t you miss me?” he said with a tinge of laughter. She could almost see the smirk on his lips—the same one that drew her to him. How long had it been since that appeared?

“I... I did miss you, Jongin,” Eunhye’s voice almost cracked as she said Jongin’s name. She finally raised her head to look at him: the man sitting before her mimicked that of the man she fell in love with. A pang went through her body at the sight. She held a distracted gaze, and her statement gave him a reaction. A small laugh erupted from him, and he leaned back, running his fingers through his hair. Again, this sight of a laughing man was foreign to this woman; yet, familiar.

“You don’t have to say it like that, Eunhye,” Jongin said, rising from his chair. Pausing for a few seconds to pondering the moment, the expression of laughter soon fell from his face, and the words that came from his mouth dripped in what felt like guilt. “The water must be hot enough now. I’m going to take a shower. I will be to bed soon,” he said in a lazy tone; again, all humor was gone. He picked up the first aid kit and made his way to the bathroom. “I will be to bed soon.”  That must be his nice way of saying she better be there when he gets done.

Eunhye rose from the table with confusion and grabbed the broom, making sure to clean up any glass before she went to the bedroom. If Jongin got hurt because of the glass, she knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it. She threw away the contents and made her way to the bedroom. On her way, she saw what Jongin threw onto the counter. As she passed by, she didn’t pay attention to the assortment scattered on the countertop. But curiosity rose from within her and focus was placed back on the pile. Looking back at the bathroom, she checked to see if he was still in there—if it was safe to resolve her case. After a few moments of hesitation, she looked down to the pile. There lay Jongin’s wallet with various coins spilling from it and several crumpled up items. Eunhye furrowed her eyebrows and questioned her actions before picking up one of the papers. She unraveled the mess, reading its contents.

What if you forgive me and let me back into your heart?

I promise to look at you with only warm eyes.

Don’t let me go, I can’t see without you.

-

Forced sleep didn’t produce the results Eunhye wished for; she laid there, hoping for it with eyes tightly closed. The sound of the shower filled her ears and thoughts counted the seconds for when the water turned off, only then she knew Jongin would come. She positioned her body close to the edge, wanting to give him enough space to sleep—or rather, she wanted to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. It didn’t matter anyway, he would pull her closer once he got into bed, locking her in his prison. She just wished that tonight he would go to sleep and not want to mess around. She liked the nights where the two of them just slept; the other nights were sleepless, Jongin made sure of that.

The shower soon turned off, and Jongin trailed out of the bathroom. Eunhye heard him throw his dirty clothes onto the ground, waiting to be picked up and washed by her. He dwelled a bit in the kitchen, grabbing a bite to eat, or, perhaps, inspecting the cleanup job she had done. Anyway, he eventually made his way into the bedroom. He wore only a towel and carried two glasses of water. His hair hung in a damp mess, and water defined his tone, tanned body. He walked over to Eunhye and set a glass on the nightstand before retreating to the closet. He shed his towel and put on a pair of briefs, his usual night apparel. Then, he quietly made his way to his side of the bed, turning off the lights as he went. He climbed under the blankets and took a drink of his glass before setting it down on the nightstand. He then reached under the sheets and took hold of her waist with a surprisingly gentle manner, and turned her body around so that she was facing him. She tried to pretend to be asleep, but that didn’t fool him.

“Eunhye, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jongin breathed in a quiet, but deep voice. He kept his hand on Eunhye’s waist and shook her a little as if to wake her up. She didn’t want to push it, so she opened her eyes, placing them anywhere but his. Eunhye directed her gaze at his shadowed chest that was still wet from the shower. “Eunhye, look me in the eyes for once,” he asked, still keeping his voice pleasant. When was he going to give up this nice act? He used his free hand to prop himself up, making it so that he was looking down at her. She stared at the arm that supported his weight: the muscles poked out of his skin like a sculpture. She felt his other hand move up her waist to her chin, pulling it gently up, making sure their gazes met. His brown eyes were soft and filled with charm: again, the same that drew her to him. “That’s better,” he laughed, smirking gently, and as if the days of the past returned, so did that smirk, making a surprise appearance. He removed his hand and placed it back on her waist, rubbing it softly. His actions were strange, why was his being like this? Like he was before?

Eunhye swallowed hard and nodded, letting her eyes fall. Her attention was focused on Jongin’s hand, questioning its gentle and not on her response. “Eunhye… sincerely,” he mumbled, pouting a bit. Her eyes looked to his, and her attention went to fully to them. They still had that soft look, but held a mischievous glimmer. “Didn’t you miss me?” he teased, letting out a soft laugh.

“Jongin… I’m tired,” Eunhye said, letting her voice fall as she avoided the question. A feeling of unease started to show in her eyes. The feeling was not for the conversation, but for the demeanor Jongin displayed. It stayed silent for a few moments before he let out a heavy sigh, almost in discontent. He drew his hand up to her forehead, brushing his fingertips across her skin.

“I won’t keep you up then,” Jongin replied, letting his voice drift. His next action shocked Eunhye; the act screamed from the past. He bent down to kiss her forehead, whispering a good night.

Jongin let his back fall onto the bed, placed his head on his pillow, and looked up at the ceiling. Silence fell over the dark room, and Eunhye felt her body fall back into the same position as his. She rested her bandaged hand on her stomach and closed her eyes.

The moments passed in silence and Eunhye concluded that Jongin had fallen to sleep. But, soon enough, his voice rang throughout the room: “I wish you wouldn’t look at me with those eyes…filled with distrust,” he said in a serious, but harmless voice. “Try to love me, or at least try to pretend a little bit better,” he clearly spoke this, rolling over on his side, facing away from her. She was surprised by these words, he was acting strange tonight. The shaken woman’s eyes shot open and became aware of their senses. Those were the last words spoken that night. Jongin fell asleep first, but she stayed awake, replaying his words and actions over and over again.

“.... or at least try to pretend a little bit better.”