Babel 1/?
Babel 1
disorders, CL doesn't cope well
TOP/CL, AU, PG-13
Seunghyun's heart jumps to his throat the moment he enters, heart rate accelerating at least threefold as he steps out of his boots. Doors to the shoe closet are wide open, every shoe in sight flung across the entryway in disarray. The coffee table and leather couches sit askew, the magazine rack had been emptied, and the picture frames were displaced from the mantelpiece. Seunghyun vaguely notes broken glass and ceramic littering the tiled kitchen flooring as he stalks pass and heads up the stairs two steps at a time. It's another of those days, where Chaerin is a vicious tornado ripping through the house, leaving destruction in her wake.
He gets home just in time to hear a door slam shut and to see the domestic helper round the corner up the stairs. Kim, they call the domestic helper Kim. The house goes silent after a few more violent crashes, save for Kim's pleas for Chaerin to unlock the door. She stands outside Chaerin's room, knocking and calling out desperately. Worry and exhaustion paint her face, making her look far older than her 50-odd years.
Seunghyun quickly retrieves the key and silently slips into the chaos of Chaerin's room, sending the domestic helper off with an apology and a command to clean up the rest of the house.
A small table lamp lies on the floor in a twisted mess, as with all the other knick-knacks on her night stand, her florid colored pills amongst it. Several books and photo frames share a similar fate, one of unceremonious relocation to the floor, that is. The door to the shower is wide open and various bottles and tubes lie scattered across the marble expanse of the bathroom. Chaerin sits beyond the moor of debris, crouched into a corner of the long shower, choked sobs ripping from her throat.
He feels his chest constrict and the back of his eyes sting. Seunghyun rounds the room hastily and steps in under the stream of the shower head, pulling her into his embrace. I-love-yous, its-alrights, I'm-right-heres, don't-worrys rushing forth in a low murmur. But Chaerin wouldn't have any of that. She kicks his shin, throws a punch at his chest and shoves him away. Curses tumble from her lips in a shaky half-yell, telling him to stay away and to stop being such an asshole and that she hates him. Seunghyun doesn't flinch outwardly at her harsh words, she's said it far too many times but it stings all the same.
He flips the shower off and pulls her soaked form close again, taking all the punches she throws (half-hearted as they are), stroking her hair until her struggling stills and her sobs turn into hiccups. Chaerin sniffles into his damp jacket, obstinately refusing to look up at him even as he tries to draw her chin up. He decides to let it go and instead, pulls her up with his fingers wrapped around her bony elbow. With a kiss to the crown of her head, he leads her out and into his own room, carefully side-stepping any wreckage that litter their path.
Chaerin stands stock still, eyes cast to the floor as he tenderly peels off her wet garb and washes her over with a warm soapy towel. He notices the ever-sharpening jut of her hipbones, her ribcage that is now an arrangement of sharp lines and valleys across her torso and the skin stretched taut across her sternum. Chaerin didn't look this fragile with her clothes on, but without them, it almost seemed like she'd break if she were to so much as bump into a banister. Consternation flickers across his face, but he keeps mum.
Chaerin catches the look on his face and flinches away from him, feeling immensely self-conscious all of a sudden.
"I'll... I'll rinse myself off," she mumbles, pushing him out.
Seunghyun knows Chaerin likes this particular sleepwear set, he had bought it for her on one of his trips to Japan earlier this year. Its a psychedelic print of bananas and apples on organic cotton. Now it hangs off her hips and shoulders in an ungainly fashion, her bones poking through the material not unlike the corners of a clothe hanger. It feels like Chaerin is diminishing right under his nose. Seunghyun sighs inwardly at his own hopelessness in dealing with the situation.
He blows her hair dry, fingers combing out her bleached locks. They hold a one-sided conversation, he tells her about his day, about a couple of ad productions he is working on, talks about Jiyong, Dara, Daesung and everyone else. He briefly wonders if she thought about him today, if she thought about the friends in the picture frames when she knocked them off the mantelpiece. Then he tucks her into his own bed, crouched by the side as he strokes her back until she falls asleep. It doesn't take her long, the outburst today probably drained whatever little energy she had.
The clock reads half past 8 in the evening when he steps out of his room. With a soft weary sigh, he sets off down the steps. The domestic helper is just about done with the kitchen, everything else had been taken care of. The house had been reverted to its immaculate dignity, perhaps just a little emptier than before. Speaking in hushed tones, he apologizes once more. She could leave after finishing up the kitchen and to come in after lunch tomorrow. They'd have to re-order ruined furniture amongst other things, she'd already drawn up a list for that. He thanks her with a tight-lipped smile before leaving her to execute the remaining chores.
According to Kim, Chaerin skipped breakfast and lunch today. She had half a bowl of steamed cabbage at around 4 though. The rampage started at around 5, right after the domestic helper brought Chaerin's medication up to her room. Its her third consecutive day refusing medication. Seunghyun's heart sinks a notch lower at that thought. Chaerin isn't going to make it through if she keeps refusing food and her prescribed medication.
He heads up to his study and tries to work on a few proposals. After an hour or so of pointless dawdling, Seunghyun gives up and decides to take a long, hot shower. He can barely concentrate on anything with the mayhem of grim thoughts surging in his head.
When he steps out of the bath, Chaerin is sitting up in bed, obviously crying judging by the subtle sniffling. His heart might as well have fallen right through his feet if it hadn't already. He drops his towel in the hamper and with panic rising in his chest, strides over to the bed.
Seunghyun pulls her trembling shoulders into his arms the same time she clasps his shirt in trembling fists. Chaerin's breathing grows increasingly uneven as she struggles with her tears. All Seunghyun can do is to repeatedly smooth long fingers across her shoulders and whisper comforting words into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. They sit like that in silence long after her tears recede. Her fingers worry the hem of his sleeve, pulling and scratching at the fabric in a nervous tic.
He can barely feel her breath ghosting his jaw as she leans against him, thoroughly enervated. Chaerin feels cold to the touch, as always, almost as though no blood ran under her skin. But she feels colder than ever today, despite the thick down duvet and heater running at full blast. He wonders if her heart has grown just as cold, but quashes that thought as soon as it forms.
In the privacy of his thoughts, Seunghyun counts each breath she exhales.
...385, ...756, ...837,
At 837, she shrinks out of his embrace with a subdued apology and reclines against the bed on her side, facing the windows. A dull ache settles in his heart as he, too, gets under the covers and lies down facing her back, with his arms folded against his own chest.
"Don't apologize... Goodnight," he whispers hoarsely, loud enough for the both of them. He doesn't get a response but he knows she heard him.
>