Talking in tangents
Title: Talking in tangents
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Angst
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Sungmin
Summary: Kyuhyun and Sungmin side story to tees2mai's You're having my baby.
There are sometimes when you know you have to stop. Like gorging yourself on ice cream when you experience your first heart break. Like playing computer games over and over again, even if you have completed it till you can’t count the number of times you have played with your fingers, just because you have been dumped by your first girlfriend. Like drinking alcohol, downing cup by cup on your last night as a bachelor, marrying to the perfect but wrong girl. Like going forward to help your child up, because you know there’s no use, let him fall harder, learn from it, and perhaps he wouldn’t walk a pathway as screwed as yours.
Kyuhyun admits, he hasn’t reached that point yet. It’s better to stop now than go through the motions. This has to end, somehow, some way, Kyuhyun thinks to himself, clenching his fist then releasing it. She’s using you, Kyuhyun reprimands himself, pushing away the voice that proclaims his willingness in being used, and lets the anger consume him.
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Two ladies, leaning against the bar, one with red hair, and the other, the other had black tresses that reached her shoulder blades, messy yet not too frizzy, with hints of brown in between as it catches the light. It wasn’t how she was dressed, or how she behaved, watching her friend laugh freely, throwing her head back. It was how she was smiling, almost ironically, like there was an injection of reality into it, electrical pads to shock, wake one up from the dream world.
Kyuhyun had to approach her, after being dared by his seniors to do it. He was a freshman, watching how each senior got shitfaced, had a drop too many, and did outrageous things in the club. He was surprised no one kicked the whole bunch of them out yet, or perhaps it was because one of them booked the entire room, rich kids who never knew how hard one had to earn for money.
He could feel those pairs of eyes staring intently at him, watching how he makes his moves through the glass panels. Exposed, that was what Kyuhyun initially felt, but as the night dragged by it wasn’t the feeling of being exposed, being bare in such a public place; it was sympathy, that youths waste their money here, pouring fiery trails down their throats one after another, and he was trapped in such a world.
And that was why her smile was such a fresh jolt to his almost dream-like state.
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Ever been on a train?
Of course you did.
Ever been standing right on the edge of the platform as the train whishes by and you were so glad that you didn’t fall right on the tracks at that moment, because death wouldn’t even bring about that exhilarating rush of adrenaline rush that came with the wind from the speed of the train?
Kyuhyun did, and sometimes he wished he had fallen off onto the track instead. But everyone is a genius on hindsight, everyone knows what they should have or shouldn’t have done in each of their individual pasts. He knows it was wrong to even lead Sungmin up to a classy hotel that he almost didn’t bring enough cash for just one single night. Façade’s over, no one from the club is watching anymore, yet Kyuhyun moves on like he cannot stop himself, watches Sungmin takes off each article of clothing one by one, watches like he’s entranced, pushes Sungmin down on the bed, mesmerized by every shadow cast onto the mattress.
He knows it’s wrong when he starts thinking of how he could get additional cash somewhere, if he worked as a part time tutor or something, as he watches Sungmin come out of the bathroom, all dressed up, tucking the money safely in the pocket of her jeans before genuinely, actually, smiling at Kyuhyun and leaving.
He does have a thing for women in jeans, but Sungmin is a totally different matter altogether. It’s an addiction.
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Kyuhyun did take up that part time tutoring job that his university professor offers, and it’s not that bad, 60 bucks per hour, pretty decent, Kyuhyun would say. It depends on how many hours of laboratory his professor has per week, and if there are any clashes between his own schedule and those classes listed. Kyuhyun calculates that he will probably earn about 600 per week, taking 2 hours every day.
That’s enough to see Sungmin once every week, Kyuhyun figures, and the naivety in him that he thought has disappeared way before he matured resurfaces, and he breaks into a small smile every time he receives his paycheck.
Sometimes it’s hard to find Sungmin.
It’s like finding the Queen of Cards in that Final Fantasy VIII game; she can appear in any new territory, and you have to navigate around the map in the spaceship, blindly searching for her. You are never sure of where she will be stationed at, nor will you know if she will mix the rules of her current card playing with rules of the new city. Kyuhyun has a bicycle, not that grand like a spaceship, but he cycles around the area, the city. The worst thing living in a city is that people tend to forget faces; they never know if Sungmin has been there before. But sometimes that’s a good thing too, so people don’t remember him as the guy who keeps asking for Sungmin.
He sees the surprise in Sungmin’s eyes as he pushes the door of a small pub open, meeting her eyes evenly as he watches that flash of recognition in her eyes after the initial shock.
Kyuhyun doesn’t know what he is actually doing, wooing Sungmin by paying her to sleep with him? That’s such a bad method, Kyuhyun even grimaces internally at the thought of it, but there is no way else Sungmin would stay with someone like him, inexperienced, awkward, confused youth, with all her maturity, confidence, and patience to lead him through; talk to him after every session, advise him through his problems.
Sungmin tells him not to spend on her, but Kyuhyun doesn’t see any other way to get her to stay with him. He holds the money out, every single time, and he waits for Sungmin to accept them, because that’s the reason why he’s working so hard every week, juggling studies and work, and then saving the nights to trudge through pubs and clubs to find Sungmin.
The rules start to change, Sungmin stops moving around that much, she’s always at this particular pub on Friday, with her friend Hyukjae at times, and Kyuhyun is now met with a familiar crinkling of the eye smile, not as cynical, not as realistic, but Kyuhyun swears he can almost taste the warmth in there when he leans down to press a kiss against Sungmin’s lip in a welcome gesture. The appetizer before the main course, Sungmin always teases him, but Kyuhyun thinks she never realizes how important this main course is to him then, not just in the eye-feasting aspect.
The price starts to drop, but Kyuhyun still gives the same amount over and over, faithfully, every single week.
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Okay, technically, Kyuhyun lied. It’s not every single week. There was this week where he saved up for two weeks, resisting the temptation to go down to that pub right at the corner of the street. It’s pretty accessible, just ride his bike down that street, listen to the wind whipping by his face, and in a few minutes he will greet Sungmin like an old friend, like a lover that he never has before.
He brings Sungmin to this restaurant right after those two weeks, not far away from his university dormitory, just a small one, nothing very much fancy, pressing the money into her hands for the night as he pulls her to their destination. He sees the slight raise of Sungmin’s eyebrows, and he grins to the waiter as he takes their coats.
They enjoy dinner, and for once Kyuhyun totally forgets about her occupation, cannot even remember it, even if he wills his brain to dredge up that very last bit of fact regarding Sungmin. He laughs, he clinks his wine glass against Sungmin’s during dinner, he talks, he chats, he relaxes, something he has never done in a long time. He watches as Sungmin throws her head back laughing, not in the throes of passion, and Kyuhyun mentally snaps a picture of that moment, because he knows that’s what he wants imprinted in a part of his brain, somewhere.
“Aren’t you going to bring me somewhere to have sex with me?” Sungmin asks as they leave the restaurant, out of earshot of the restaurant’s patrons. But Kyuhyun is too caught up with how the smoke seems to form as she exhales softly in the cold winter air, watches as they form pretty patterns in the night sky, and he smiles at her, uninhibited, carefree, and he temporarily forgets about answering Sungmin’s question.
That’s the first night Sungmin brings him back to her apartment.
They don’t have actual sex that night, life doesn’t always revolve around sex and all that. Kyuhyun thinks it’s equally satisfying that he wakes up to a mouthful of Sungmin’s hair, watching how the sun rays catch on the curves of her body, down the neck, the soft rise and fall of the chest (and definitely how her curves above her lingerie seem to fit so smoothly into them). Sungmin mumbles in her sleep , presses her fingers into his chest, and Kyuhyun thinks that it’s possible to wake up to this every day.
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You know when you grow up and find that adults have always been telling you lies, goading you on more and more to believe in them even when you have no, absolutely no faith in those lies they were spewing. Yet it is so deeply ingrained in you now that it’s hard to pull yourself out now. Like how everything will turn out right in the end. Kyuhyun wonders if authors of fairytales never grew up to see the true face of this world at all.
“Will be late today.”
“Come over for a while, it would be nice to have your company at midnight.”
“Can’t make it tonight, work. Watch that movie you rented with Henry.”
“Bathroom sink’s clogged, take a look at it will you?”
“Yesterday night was great. See you around.”
Because not everything ends with a happy ending just like that.
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He fits in easily into Sungmin’s life, that is what Kyuhyun thinks. He finds himself waking up every now and then on Sungmin’s couch, having being called over the previous night, just to fix a lightbulb that wasn’t working in her bedroom, or a cupboard door that was creaking at its hinges every single time Sungmin opens it to retrieve a cup or a bowl.
Textbooks, a buttoned shirt strewn over a chair in the kitchen, or a pair of socks Kyuhyun thought he has lost a long time ago can be found in Sungmin’s apartment. Kyuhyun thinks it’s a way of saying he’s making his way, slowly but surely, into Sungmin’s life, making his position here stable, leaving his own mark in his own way. He knows how it feels to sleep with a textbook on his chest, because the next day he wakes up he feels like there has been a weight pressing down, pulling him to the centre of the earth, and the only thing that comes to his mind is if Sungmin did come home last night.
Kyuhyun does everything that he thinks Sungmin might favour; babysitting Henry, Hyukjae’s younger brother. He has always find it amazing how Henry calls Hyukjae umma, and he finds it intriguing how Hyukjae actually made a deal with Donghae to have his child. Then he thinks of his own plight, paying Sungmin to make her stay with him, to invade into her life, and he tries to quell that rising panic in him that Sungmin doesn’t feel the same.
I’m willing, he emphasizes, then he stares at Hyukjae’s retreating back as she asks him to bring Henry to the park the next day, and how he has an exam the day after; his conscience is having a battle, he knows he has to focus on that examination, but it makes Sungmin happy, and he forgets why he is having this battle in the first place.
You have to stop this, you know you have to stop, it’s like an unhealthy addiction, drawing you back again and again, making you lose your priority in life. But sometimes priorities in life changes, Kyuhyun ponders, and he wonders how Sungmin has managed to climb all the way up, above his studies, his work, his friends, and even his seniors who helped him meet Sungmin that very first time round.
I’m the first guy she has ever brought back to her apartment, Kyuhyun reassures himself, squishes that part of him that doubts, that questions at the lack of evidence, that demands for Sungmin to at least tell him where she will be for the night, sucking some stranger off, or screaming, moaning some stranger’s name as she comes down in her throes of exhilaration, orgasm, when she tucks the money into a small clutch, or a wallet in her back pocket.
Sungmin is rarely home at night, but it’s normal, Kyuhyun thinks to himself. He can’t ask Sungmin to give up her job even when they are together.
Define together.
Nothing comes to your mind. Zilch, zero, nothing, because there was nothing to start with.
He fails that test. Instead of mathematical equations, he hears Sungmin, sees Sungmin, breathes Sungmin. He wonders if it’s one-sided.
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It has been a few weeks, no, months actually, that Kyuhyun went out his friends, friends who don’t offer extra benefits, friends who don’t need Kyuhyun to work to get money, just to get them to stay. He hasn’t told Sungmin anything about this small outing, and in the back of his mind, he wonders if Sungmin will worry over him, about his whereabouts and all. A friend brushes his hand over his head to shake him out of his reverie, and Kyuhyun finds that he can only muster a small smile when they enter this newly opened club in the city.
Words run dry. It’s not a coincidence, fate, or whatever strings there might be hanging invisibly in the air, connecting his gaze to Sungmin’s right at this moment. Fairytales never give you the proper words to describe this at all.
Transaction. Money. Someone who Kyuhyun has not seen before. A guy.
And Kyuhyun knows what’s going on.
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Sometimes you feel like you are a fool too, in addition to knowing that you have to stop. It’s essential to stop, because whatever you have been doing only shows how immature or foolish you had been. He recalls seeing Hyukjae’s smile, sweet, but there’s always a tinge of pity that gives his heart a painful twist. It’s like Hyukjae knows, Hyukjae knows what Sungmin’s doing to him, but she herself is powerless to stop it from continuing.
Time to break this off, Kyuhyun sighs to himself, and he rests the keys on top of the note he has written on the kitchen table, knowing that she will read it once she’s back. Back from wherever she was.
Not that he could help it.
He leaves a note.
That should be enough. For someone who has never really loved you, for someone who just uses you because you are gullible, loving her in that single, dogged way that you only knew how, that should be enough.
It doesn’t hurt, it shouldn’t hurt, because you are mature throughout all of this. Because it’s in-your-face, that she doesn’t mind you as much as you care for her.
Love wouldn’t make you cry or ask you why.
It takes one hour for him to finish packing whatever he needs to clear out of Sungmin’s apartment. It’s not his place to be in anymore, because the apartment is empty, beside the episode where Hyukjae stays over with Henry when she fights it out with Donghae, or the rare, few occasions where Sungmin is at home to stay the night, and Kyuhyun pretends not to notice the new red mark on her shoulder or collarbone, pretends that he still has her every Friday.
It takes one day for him to leave. Sometimes there are memories that he is too hung up over, and he shouldn’t be. Story of my life, Kyuhyun thinks.
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Have you ever poured red wine onto your shirt? Or a beloved dress? There’s this stain that never seems to disappear no matter how much detergent you might use, or extreme methods; there’s a stain, indelible mark, and it’s there to stay.
Scratch that.
It’s like digging a hole in the dirt, almost clay, so hard that it takes almost all your strength just to shove the shovel into that pile of mud, digging for something that you never know what you will find anyway. Even if there’s nothing except water, perhaps some worms, and more dirt, it’s hard to recover; the dirt is loose, it loses the colour it used to have, although it does seem lighter at times, Kyuhyun is convinced it’s just a trick played on his eyes. There’s no difference in colour, or if there is, it’s just the shadow casting its spell on him.
Kyuhyun quits going to clubs all together, quits going to that restaurant he brought Sungmin to frequent, quits going to any place that reminds him so vividly of his encounters with her. Avoiding, escaping, choose whatever you want. Kyuhyun thinks he really can’t be bothered with opinions of his friends when he himself is still trying so damn hard to get over someone who never really cherished him, or loved him.
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Incidences, without proper closure, take people very long to recover from.
Kyuhyun takes two years to understand.
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You think you grow up, you think you mature, you get on with life. Nothing wrong with that, Kyuhyun reasons, as he now leads the freshmen to the beach for an outing. He still drinks, occasionally, although he never agrees when his friends ask him out to a newly opened club or bar, not even if it is situated just right outside, down the road to the right. Night, sea breeze, romantic, he thinks dryly to himself, but he watches as the freshies get dunked into the cold dark water he thinks there might be fun in this after all.
There’s just a small bar nearby, overlooking the beach, and the smell of alcohol wafts by him. He never denies that it doesn’t bring back memories, because it still does, just that they are kind of fuzzy, unclear, like the haze feeling that wraps you tightly in it after a round of spirits.
Kyuhyun never understands the link between university and partying, as he watches his companions sway to the music, some clearly drunk, the sober ones still around him, making small conversations and sorts. Some of them are talking about hitting the club in city later; it’s never too late to party and drink up, isn’t it? Kyuhyun nods and hums his agreement, or whatever his response is, at certain points of the conversation, but frankly he doesn’t care. It’s like watching something play out in front of you, yet you don’t grasp the severity, the actual reality of the atmosphere, the situation, because it just spins right out of your hands, dancing its way across the bar in search of something better than you.
Yeah, Kyuhyun thinks to himself, something better than me.
It’s then that he catches a glimpse of jeans, black tresses with hints of brown, high heels that are not too inappropriate for beach wear, and that familiar laughter that strikes him every time he wakes up to her teasing him. He leans forward slightly, yet not so much as to arouse any curiosity from his friends talking about something else completely. Jeans, fitted nicely to the calves, and shoes, Kyuhyun swears that they are size 7. Weaving in and out of the dance floor, and Kyuhyun thinks he has been holding his breath.
Maybe he’s giving himself too much credit for that, but he doesn’t deny that he had stopped breathing for a while previously.
Their eyes meet, and Kyuhyun doesn’t tear himself away, he doesn’t allow himself to avert his eyes. He sees that familiar shock in her eyes when he pushed that door to that particular pub in search of her, the shock that her eyes behold when she learns that he has been waiting at the ground floor of her apartment, just to make sure she’s home, and home is the safest place Kyuhyun can comfort her and protect her in.
He manages a slight nod of his head, and she smiles. They stand in their respective spots staring at each other, one piercing gaze, the other soft, and there might be some sort of…something that Kyuhyun doesn’t know in those eyes, or he doesn’t want to acknowledge. It’s like how you push the charcoal around in the fireplace, enjoying the warmth, seeing the sparks fly up at times, and the slight ambers, glowing as they are about to fade away catch your eyes. Kyuhyun thinks that may pretty much sum up their relationship, only that the dying, glowing charcoal only comes now, very much overdue.
There’s an understanding playing in the undertones of their gazes, fitting to the soft, swaying music that the bar is playing.
Someone tugs her hand in the direction of the exit, a girl, Kyuhyun’s mind notes that fact particularly well, although it doesn’t register in his brain till quite a while later. Her eyes flashes towards her companion once, and back at Kyuhyun, before she is lost among the throng of people on the dance floor, with the sweat, atmosphere and passion, obscuring their eyes from each other.
Oh, Kyuhyun thinks intelligently. The sudden rush of memories nearly chokes him, leaving him with a slight open-mouth as he stares at the last spot he has seen her standing at. She looks fine, she looks comfortable, like she has friends, like she dealt with this properly, and maybe Kyuhyun should follow her footsteps (Kyuhyun laughs dryly at the pun) and be someone who at least, he, himself, knows.
Sungmin looks exactly as beautiful as Kyuhyun remembers. Smiling to himself, Kyuhyun thinks this might be what he is lacking all along. One final memory, to know how she looks like now, forever imprinted in his mind, and Kyuhyun exhales; perhaps that’s the closure people always talk about.
Kyuhyun raises a hand and orders another beer.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Angst
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Sungmin
Summary: Kyuhyun and Sungmin side story to tees2mai's You're having my baby.
There are sometimes when you know you have to stop. Like gorging yourself on ice cream when you experience your first heart break. Like playing computer games over and over again, even if you have completed it till you can’t count the number of times you have played with your fingers, just because you have been dumped by your first girlfriend. Like drinking alcohol, downing cup by cup on your last night as a bachelor, marrying to the perfect but wrong girl. Like going forward to help your child up, because you know there’s no use, let him fall harder, learn from it, and perhaps he wouldn’t walk a pathway as screwed as yours.
Kyuhyun admits, he hasn’t reached that point yet. It’s better to stop now than go through the motions. This has to end, somehow, some way, Kyuhyun thinks to himself, clenching his fist then releasing it. She’s using you, Kyuhyun reprimands himself, pushing away the voice that proclaims his willingness in being used, and lets the anger consume him.
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Two ladies, leaning against the bar, one with red hair, and the other, the other had black tresses that reached her shoulder blades, messy yet not too frizzy, with hints of brown in between as it catches the light. It wasn’t how she was dressed, or how she behaved, watching her friend laugh freely, throwing her head back. It was how she was smiling, almost ironically, like there was an injection of reality into it, electrical pads to shock, wake one up from the dream world.
Kyuhyun had to approach her, after being dared by his seniors to do it. He was a freshman, watching how each senior got shitfaced, had a drop too many, and did outrageous things in the club. He was surprised no one kicked the whole bunch of them out yet, or perhaps it was because one of them booked the entire room, rich kids who never knew how hard one had to earn for money.
He could feel those pairs of eyes staring intently at him, watching how he makes his moves through the glass panels. Exposed, that was what Kyuhyun initially felt, but as the night dragged by it wasn’t the feeling of being exposed, being bare in such a public place; it was sympathy, that youths waste their money here, pouring fiery trails down their throats one after another, and he was trapped in such a world.
And that was why her smile was such a fresh jolt to his almost dream-like state.
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Ever been on a train?
Of course you did.
Ever been standing right on the edge of the platform as the train whishes by and you were so glad that you didn’t fall right on the tracks at that moment, because death wouldn’t even bring about that exhilarating rush of adrenaline rush that came with the wind from the speed of the train?
Kyuhyun did, and sometimes he wished he had fallen off onto the track instead. But everyone is a genius on hindsight, everyone knows what they should have or shouldn’t have done in each of their individual pasts. He knows it was wrong to even lead Sungmin up to a classy hotel that he almost didn’t bring enough cash for just one single night. Façade’s over, no one from the club is watching anymore, yet Kyuhyun moves on like he cannot stop himself, watches Sungmin takes off each article of clothing one by one, watches like he’s entranced, pushes Sungmin down on the bed, mesmerized by every shadow cast onto the mattress.
He knows it’s wrong when he starts thinking of how he could get additional cash somewhere, if he worked as a part time tutor or something, as he watches Sungmin come out of the bathroom, all dressed up, tucking the money safely in the pocket of her jeans before genuinely, actually, smiling at Kyuhyun and leaving.
He does have a thing for women in jeans, but Sungmin is a totally different matter altogether. It’s an addiction.
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Kyuhyun did take up that part time tutoring job that his university professor offers, and it’s not that bad, 60 bucks per hour, pretty decent, Kyuhyun would say. It depends on how many hours of laboratory his professor has per week, and if there are any clashes between his own schedule and those classes listed. Kyuhyun calculates that he will probably earn about 600 per week, taking 2 hours every day.
That’s enough to see Sungmin once every week, Kyuhyun figures, and the naivety in him that he thought has disappeared way before he matured resurfaces, and he breaks into a small smile every time he receives his paycheck.
Sometimes it’s hard to find Sungmin.
It’s like finding the Queen of Cards in that Final Fantasy VIII game; she can appear in any new territory, and you have to navigate around the map in the spaceship, blindly searching for her. You are never sure of where she will be stationed at, nor will you know if she will mix the rules of her current card playing with rules of the new city. Kyuhyun has a bicycle, not that grand like a spaceship, but he cycles around the area, the city. The worst thing living in a city is that people tend to forget faces; they never know if Sungmin has been there before. But sometimes that’s a good thing too, so people don’t remember him as the guy who keeps asking for Sungmin.
He sees the surprise in Sungmin’s eyes as he pushes the door of a small pub open, meeting her eyes evenly as he watches that flash of recognition in her eyes after the initial shock.
Kyuhyun doesn’t know what he is actually doing, wooing Sungmin by paying her to sleep with him? That’s such a bad method, Kyuhyun even grimaces internally at the thought of it, but there is no way else Sungmin would stay with someone like him, inexperienced, awkward, confused youth, with all her maturity, confidence, and patience to lead him through; talk to him after every session, advise him through his problems.
Sungmin tells him not to spend on her, but Kyuhyun doesn’t see any other way to get her to stay with him. He holds the money out, every single time, and he waits for Sungmin to accept them, because that’s the reason why he’s working so hard every week, juggling studies and work, and then saving the nights to trudge through pubs and clubs to find Sungmin.
The rules start to change, Sungmin stops moving around that much, she’s always at this particular pub on Friday, with her friend Hyukjae at times, and Kyuhyun is now met with a familiar crinkling of the eye smile, not as cynical, not as realistic, but Kyuhyun swears he can almost taste the warmth in there when he leans down to press a kiss against Sungmin’s lip in a welcome gesture. The appetizer before the main course, Sungmin always teases him, but Kyuhyun thinks she never realizes how important this main course is to him then, not just in the eye-feasting aspect.
The price starts to drop, but Kyuhyun still gives the same amount over and over, faithfully, every single week.
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Okay, technically, Kyuhyun lied. It’s not every single week. There was this week where he saved up for two weeks, resisting the temptation to go down to that pub right at the corner of the street. It’s pretty accessible, just ride his bike down that street, listen to the wind whipping by his face, and in a few minutes he will greet Sungmin like an old friend, like a lover that he never has before.
He brings Sungmin to this restaurant right after those two weeks, not far away from his university dormitory, just a small one, nothing very much fancy, pressing the money into her hands for the night as he pulls her to their destination. He sees the slight raise of Sungmin’s eyebrows, and he grins to the waiter as he takes their coats.
They enjoy dinner, and for once Kyuhyun totally forgets about her occupation, cannot even remember it, even if he wills his brain to dredge up that very last bit of fact regarding Sungmin. He laughs, he clinks his wine glass against Sungmin’s during dinner, he talks, he chats, he relaxes, something he has never done in a long time. He watches as Sungmin throws her head back laughing, not in the throes of passion, and Kyuhyun mentally snaps a picture of that moment, because he knows that’s what he wants imprinted in a part of his brain, somewhere.
“Aren’t you going to bring me somewhere to have sex with me?” Sungmin asks as they leave the restaurant, out of earshot of the restaurant’s patrons. But Kyuhyun is too caught up with how the smoke seems to form as she exhales softly in the cold winter air, watches as they form pretty patterns in the night sky, and he smiles at her, uninhibited, carefree, and he temporarily forgets about answering Sungmin’s question.
That’s the first night Sungmin brings him back to her apartment.
They don’t have actual sex that night, life doesn’t always revolve around sex and all that. Kyuhyun thinks it’s equally satisfying that he wakes up to a mouthful of Sungmin’s hair, watching how the sun rays catch on the curves of her body, down the neck, the soft rise and fall of the chest (and definitely how her curves above her lingerie seem to fit so smoothly into them). Sungmin mumbles in her sleep , presses her fingers into his chest, and Kyuhyun thinks that it’s possible to wake up to this every day.
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You know when you grow up and find that adults have always been telling you lies, goading you on more and more to believe in them even when you have no, absolutely no faith in those lies they were spewing. Yet it is so deeply ingrained in you now that it’s hard to pull yourself out now. Like how everything will turn out right in the end. Kyuhyun wonders if authors of fairytales never grew up to see the true face of this world at all.
“Will be late today.”
“Come over for a while, it would be nice to have your company at midnight.”
“Can’t make it tonight, work. Watch that movie you rented with Henry.”
“Bathroom sink’s clogged, take a look at it will you?”
“Yesterday night was great. See you around.”
Because not everything ends with a happy ending just like that.
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He fits in easily into Sungmin’s life, that is what Kyuhyun thinks. He finds himself waking up every now and then on Sungmin’s couch, having being called over the previous night, just to fix a lightbulb that wasn’t working in her bedroom, or a cupboard door that was creaking at its hinges every single time Sungmin opens it to retrieve a cup or a bowl.
Textbooks, a buttoned shirt strewn over a chair in the kitchen, or a pair of socks Kyuhyun thought he has lost a long time ago can be found in Sungmin’s apartment. Kyuhyun thinks it’s a way of saying he’s making his way, slowly but surely, into Sungmin’s life, making his position here stable, leaving his own mark in his own way. He knows how it feels to sleep with a textbook on his chest, because the next day he wakes up he feels like there has been a weight pressing down, pulling him to the centre of the earth, and the only thing that comes to his mind is if Sungmin did come home last night.
Kyuhyun does everything that he thinks Sungmin might favour; babysitting Henry, Hyukjae’s younger brother. He has always find it amazing how Henry calls Hyukjae umma, and he finds it intriguing how Hyukjae actually made a deal with Donghae to have his child. Then he thinks of his own plight, paying Sungmin to make her stay with him, to invade into her life, and he tries to quell that rising panic in him that Sungmin doesn’t feel the same.
I’m willing, he emphasizes, then he stares at Hyukjae’s retreating back as she asks him to bring Henry to the park the next day, and how he has an exam the day after; his conscience is having a battle, he knows he has to focus on that examination, but it makes Sungmin happy, and he forgets why he is having this battle in the first place.
You have to stop this, you know you have to stop, it’s like an unhealthy addiction, drawing you back again and again, making you lose your priority in life. But sometimes priorities in life changes, Kyuhyun ponders, and he wonders how Sungmin has managed to climb all the way up, above his studies, his work, his friends, and even his seniors who helped him meet Sungmin that very first time round.
I’m the first guy she has ever brought back to her apartment, Kyuhyun reassures himself, squishes that part of him that doubts, that questions at the lack of evidence, that demands for Sungmin to at least tell him where she will be for the night, sucking some stranger off, or screaming, moaning some stranger’s name as she comes down in her throes of exhilaration, orgasm, when she tucks the money into a small clutch, or a wallet in her back pocket.
Sungmin is rarely home at night, but it’s normal, Kyuhyun thinks to himself. He can’t ask Sungmin to give up her job even when they are together.
Define together.
Nothing comes to your mind. Zilch, zero, nothing, because there was nothing to start with.
He fails that test. Instead of mathematical equations, he hears Sungmin, sees Sungmin, breathes Sungmin. He wonders if it’s one-sided.
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It has been a few weeks, no, months actually, that Kyuhyun went out his friends, friends who don’t offer extra benefits, friends who don’t need Kyuhyun to work to get money, just to get them to stay. He hasn’t told Sungmin anything about this small outing, and in the back of his mind, he wonders if Sungmin will worry over him, about his whereabouts and all. A friend brushes his hand over his head to shake him out of his reverie, and Kyuhyun finds that he can only muster a small smile when they enter this newly opened club in the city.
Words run dry. It’s not a coincidence, fate, or whatever strings there might be hanging invisibly in the air, connecting his gaze to Sungmin’s right at this moment. Fairytales never give you the proper words to describe this at all.
Transaction. Money. Someone who Kyuhyun has not seen before. A guy.
And Kyuhyun knows what’s going on.
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Sometimes you feel like you are a fool too, in addition to knowing that you have to stop. It’s essential to stop, because whatever you have been doing only shows how immature or foolish you had been. He recalls seeing Hyukjae’s smile, sweet, but there’s always a tinge of pity that gives his heart a painful twist. It’s like Hyukjae knows, Hyukjae knows what Sungmin’s doing to him, but she herself is powerless to stop it from continuing.
Time to break this off, Kyuhyun sighs to himself, and he rests the keys on top of the note he has written on the kitchen table, knowing that she will read it once she’s back. Back from wherever she was.
Not that he could help it.
He leaves a note.
That should be enough. For someone who has never really loved you, for someone who just uses you because you are gullible, loving her in that single, dogged way that you only knew how, that should be enough.
It doesn’t hurt, it shouldn’t hurt, because you are mature throughout all of this. Because it’s in-your-face, that she doesn’t mind you as much as you care for her.
Love wouldn’t make you cry or ask you why.
It takes one hour for him to finish packing whatever he needs to clear out of Sungmin’s apartment. It’s not his place to be in anymore, because the apartment is empty, beside the episode where Hyukjae stays over with Henry when she fights it out with Donghae, or the rare, few occasions where Sungmin is at home to stay the night, and Kyuhyun pretends not to notice the new red mark on her shoulder or collarbone, pretends that he still has her every Friday.
It takes one day for him to leave. Sometimes there are memories that he is too hung up over, and he shouldn’t be. Story of my life, Kyuhyun thinks.
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Have you ever poured red wine onto your shirt? Or a beloved dress? There’s this stain that never seems to disappear no matter how much detergent you might use, or extreme methods; there’s a stain, indelible mark, and it’s there to stay.
Scratch that.
It’s like digging a hole in the dirt, almost clay, so hard that it takes almost all your strength just to shove the shovel into that pile of mud, digging for something that you never know what you will find anyway. Even if there’s nothing except water, perhaps some worms, and more dirt, it’s hard to recover; the dirt is loose, it loses the colour it used to have, although it does seem lighter at times, Kyuhyun is convinced it’s just a trick played on his eyes. There’s no difference in colour, or if there is, it’s just the shadow casting its spell on him.
Kyuhyun quits going to clubs all together, quits going to that restaurant he brought Sungmin to frequent, quits going to any place that reminds him so vividly of his encounters with her. Avoiding, escaping, choose whatever you want. Kyuhyun thinks he really can’t be bothered with opinions of his friends when he himself is still trying so damn hard to get over someone who never really cherished him, or loved him.
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Incidences, without proper closure, take people very long to recover from.
Kyuhyun takes two years to understand.
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You think you grow up, you think you mature, you get on with life. Nothing wrong with that, Kyuhyun reasons, as he now leads the freshmen to the beach for an outing. He still drinks, occasionally, although he never agrees when his friends ask him out to a newly opened club or bar, not even if it is situated just right outside, down the road to the right. Night, sea breeze, romantic, he thinks dryly to himself, but he watches as the freshies get dunked into the cold dark water he thinks there might be fun in this after all.
There’s just a small bar nearby, overlooking the beach, and the smell of alcohol wafts by him. He never denies that it doesn’t bring back memories, because it still does, just that they are kind of fuzzy, unclear, like the haze feeling that wraps you tightly in it after a round of spirits.
Kyuhyun never understands the link between university and partying, as he watches his companions sway to the music, some clearly drunk, the sober ones still around him, making small conversations and sorts. Some of them are talking about hitting the club in city later; it’s never too late to party and drink up, isn’t it? Kyuhyun nods and hums his agreement, or whatever his response is, at certain points of the conversation, but frankly he doesn’t care. It’s like watching something play out in front of you, yet you don’t grasp the severity, the actual reality of the atmosphere, the situation, because it just spins right out of your hands, dancing its way across the bar in search of something better than you.
Yeah, Kyuhyun thinks to himself, something better than me.
It’s then that he catches a glimpse of jeans, black tresses with hints of brown, high heels that are not too inappropriate for beach wear, and that familiar laughter that strikes him every time he wakes up to her teasing him. He leans forward slightly, yet not so much as to arouse any curiosity from his friends talking about something else completely. Jeans, fitted nicely to the calves, and shoes, Kyuhyun swears that they are size 7. Weaving in and out of the dance floor, and Kyuhyun thinks he has been holding his breath.
Maybe he’s giving himself too much credit for that, but he doesn’t deny that he had stopped breathing for a while previously.
Their eyes meet, and Kyuhyun doesn’t tear himself away, he doesn’t allow himself to avert his eyes. He sees that familiar shock in her eyes when he pushed that door to that particular pub in search of her, the shock that her eyes behold when she learns that he has been waiting at the ground floor of her apartment, just to make sure she’s home, and home is the safest place Kyuhyun can comfort her and protect her in.
He manages a slight nod of his head, and she smiles. They stand in their respective spots staring at each other, one piercing gaze, the other soft, and there might be some sort of…something that Kyuhyun doesn’t know in those eyes, or he doesn’t want to acknowledge. It’s like how you push the charcoal around in the fireplace, enjoying the warmth, seeing the sparks fly up at times, and the slight ambers, glowing as they are about to fade away catch your eyes. Kyuhyun thinks that may pretty much sum up their relationship, only that the dying, glowing charcoal only comes now, very much overdue.
There’s an understanding playing in the undertones of their gazes, fitting to the soft, swaying music that the bar is playing.
Someone tugs her hand in the direction of the exit, a girl, Kyuhyun’s mind notes that fact particularly well, although it doesn’t register in his brain till quite a while later. Her eyes flashes towards her companion once, and back at Kyuhyun, before she is lost among the throng of people on the dance floor, with the sweat, atmosphere and passion, obscuring their eyes from each other.
Oh, Kyuhyun thinks intelligently. The sudden rush of memories nearly chokes him, leaving him with a slight open-mouth as he stares at the last spot he has seen her standing at. She looks fine, she looks comfortable, like she has friends, like she dealt with this properly, and maybe Kyuhyun should follow her footsteps (Kyuhyun laughs dryly at the pun) and be someone who at least, he, himself, knows.
Sungmin looks exactly as beautiful as Kyuhyun remembers. Smiling to himself, Kyuhyun thinks this might be what he is lacking all along. One final memory, to know how she looks like now, forever imprinted in his mind, and Kyuhyun exhales; perhaps that’s the closure people always talk about.
Kyuhyun raises a hand and orders another beer.