Remembering Sunday
[Remembering Sunday - Oneshot] *cough* I'm baaaaaaaack!!!!!!! 8D Mwahaahaha. I feel bad about leaving J.A.E.S.U. and Dear Diary~ for those of you who are stalking those fics, but I discovered this song through a friend I made in college (Woot!) and it inspired me to write this oneshot. Please be patient...but let's just say the other fics will come soon. >] Please enjoy the song as much as I did! :D (About the only American song on my iPod now...xD)
Woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes
Yunho woke up drugged. Polluted with thoughts of something wonderful and fantastic and hidden behind a blurry veil. What was it?
He sat up from the tangled, musky mess of his sheets, hair just as muddled and only one sock. A drifting yawn stretched from his bruised lips, his eyes scanned his dark bedroom as if searching for an answer with no known question. The angry scarlet-colored lights on the nightstand blinked 2:00am, screaming.
What was it?
This residue in his chest. Like something amazing had happened, but reality was too cruel to let him remember. Something too breathtaking for comprehension. Something too remarkable to define with a concept so trivial as memories.
A puzzling morning sickness of tumbling emotions-euphoria, anxiety, nausea, winded, mistaken, warmth. It made Yunho’s head reel as he slipped on his shoes and headed downstairs. Keep walking and he’ll find his answers.
Remembering Sunday
There was breakfast in the kitchen. Two eggs and buttered toast. Two cups of coffee, one half empty, the same as the house. The realization flooded him with the wafting smell of breakfast and regret.
Sunday.
The first step he took forward was slow and staggering. In a daze, wondering where the mist in his head had come from and why it was clearing now.
The second step was blind. Blinded by everything that hurt. The denial that refused to settle, the emptiness that pervaded his being, the knowledge that the toast was already cold.
The third step was quicker with a sense of purpose. The fateful stride that gave Yunho his balance and the strength to run to his climax and his descent.
The fourth, fifth and sixth led him sprinting out the front door with a slam.
Yesterday had been the best day of his life. Yesterday they met at the bus stop.
It was an average Sunday afternoon when Yunho plopped on the bench next to another young man with a drifting yawn and lazily stretched out his long legs. His eyes casually scanned the man’s pale, slender hands clutched tightly around a crumpled bus ticket, up his well-built chest and broad shoulders, over his smooth, elegant neck, and landed on his clear milky white face with the deep black eyes that held so much he never understood.
Yunho grinned warmly, eyes flickering up at the overcast skies and said, “Nice weather today.”
It was an average comment on an average day at an average bus stop. But he would soon learn that nothing was average and no day was anything short of a miracle.
The man’s name was Jaejoong, he soon found out after the dark haired, dark eyed man glanced back at him blankly, with unseen frozen tears and smiled tenderly.
“Those are my rain clouds.”
Words poured from the two from then on, hours must have come and gone as time slipped by and no one cared to go find it. The conversation so deep and carefree and gentle and everywhere and nowhere and filled with laughter, Yunho was far too wrapped up in fate to notice Jaejoong’s delicate hand tighten around the ticket as a bus stopped nearby, beckoning him to run with it, but Yunho’s smile urging him to stay. The doors closed and left. He stuffed the ticket inside his pocket just as Yunho took his hand and pulled him to another world. If only for a moment.
They learned so much from each other on such an average cloudy day.
Kindness.
Jaejoong learned how easy it was to do, yet so hard to find. Every little thing Yunho did was swathed in it. From offering a kid an extra quarter in the arcade, to brandishing smiles to a grumpy old woman on the sidewalk, looking the other way when a teenaged girl tripped on her shoelaces and hurried around the corner in reddened embarrassment and holding Jaejoong’s hand when he looked as if he were about to crumble.
Miracles.
“No day is normal,” Jaejoong had said with a dreamy smile. “There is a miracle every day. Just keep walking and you’ll find your answers.”
Yunho watched Jaejoong’s plump, red lips as he said this, marveling about how this man’s words were more beautiful than his feminine face.
A candy machine dropped two chocolate bars instead of the intended one. As the wind picked up, a small child firmly held his grip on a shining red balloon. A happily pregnant woman remembered to look both ways before crossing the street. A frazzled business man was able to hail a taxi. Yunho and Jaejoong’s first shared words.
They were all miracles.
But as Yunho held fast to Jaejoong’s cold hand, he began to wonder if the other had become too used to miracles. Jaded by the only thing that kept him grounded in whatever turmoil churned behind those black, wistful eyes, it had Yunho wishing he could help him find a new miracle to thaw his icy hand.
Freedom.
Jaejoong had never seen so much of it buried within one person. In Yunho’s bright smile and careless words, Jaejoong discovered a new world laced in unfounded trust. Every laugh was a bit of freedom with each click of Yunho’s camera.
As the two looked through Yunho’s digital camera, he began to wonder why Jaejoong kept himself so trapped. Each faded smile. It gave Yunho hope but scared him death, the story behind this man’s ambiguity.
Music.
And the love it entails.
They found a piano in the music store and enveloped themselves with it. Jaejoong’s voice poured with emotions Yunho couldn’t dare label as the other’s mild fingers danced across the keys. Every word, every note, every song held something so precious. In a trance, Yunho floated through the measures and struggled to unveil the secret behind the beautiful melodies that emptied out of Jaejoong’s throat.
“It sounds like love.”
Jaejoong stopped singing, his eyes flickering in a melancholic smile.
“I don’t believe in love.” And he continued singing.
Every song he sang felt so fleeting. Maybe that was why he couldn’t believe.
He pulls on his hand with a devilish grin
Somehow time had escaped. Somehow the sun had grown dimmer as the stars began to gleam. Somehow Yunho had invited Jaejoong to his house. Somehow Jaejoong pulled him upstairs. Somehow their clothes ended up on the floor. Somehow Yunho’s smile had been replaced by a series of desperate panting and Jaejoong’s name. Somehow Jaejoong’s cold skin had Grown. So. Warm. Somehow Yunho had lost a sock beneath the anarchic sheets and so much more.
Somehow.
But have you seen this man?
Yunho’s flying steps grew quicker, flicking up muddy water from puddles that spread larger still. He wanted another miracle. The world seemed to full of them when he was around. What happens when he’s gone? Keep walking, running and he’ll find his answers.
Knock knock.
None of the neighbors knew of a boy as dazzling as the pictures he shoved in their faces from Yunho’s camera. Of course he should have expected this. No photo could truly describe the true beauty embedded in this man’s every eyelash, gesture and utterance.
But he tried. Sprinting from door to door at 2am asking the same question and receiving the same answer. The rain pounded the ground as hard as his heart.
Who could deny these butterflies?
Crazy. Insane. Desperate. Recklessly out of his mind for this man. The feeling in his gut fluttered with so many sensations as he dashed through the rain. Jaejoong’s face fading in Yunho’s mind roused so much. Anger. Confusion. Love. Even if Jaejoong said he didn’t believe, Yunho was determined to call his bluff.
Funny how it rained all day
“Why do you want to know?”
The neighbor at the end of the block eyed Yunho warily, something shrewd hiding behind his eyes.
“I’m going to ask him to marry me.” Somehow the answer didn’t shock Yunho as it slipped passed his own rain-soaked lips.
Somehow.
The suspicion hovering around the man’s countenance melted into gentle, pitying understanding. He knew. Somehow he knew.
“I’m sorry. He moved away.”
And without so much as a “Thank you. Good bye,” Yunho tore away from the house, down the steps, darting blindly into traffic with the rain to hide his burning tears.
To find my whoever, where ever he may be
The raindrops struggled to keep up with Yunho’s flight as he raced back to that bus stop. His haven where everything began. Not even twenty four hours passed since he had tugged on Jaejoong’s slightly unwilling hand and learned and taught and fell in love with a ghost of a man. But a beautiful phantom haunting his heart, mind and soul, driving him absolutely
Crazy. Insane. Recklessly out of his mind.
This place. This wonderful, average, miraculous place. This place that held all his beginnings and hopefully no endings. Hope. Yunho could only hope as his sneakers slapped the pavement along with the droning pound of the rain.
He couldn’t leave. A world without Jaejoong was like a world without oxygen. Cherry blossoms. Birds. A place to be.
How could Yunho live without breathing, smiling, dreaming or even existing? It was impossible. All he needed was one more miracle.
Yunho stopped abruptly on one side of the street. A bus. And through the grey, hopeless rain, he saw a pair of legs disappear through the doors. And the bus rolled away.
What was it?
He couldn’t even see the identity of that last passenger, and yet, what made Yunho feel as if his entire universe had evaporated with roar of the engine as the bus vanished around the corner?
He closed his eyes tight. Keep walking and you will find your answers. Keep walking…
He stayed still. These rain clouds. Jaejoong’s rain clouds. Would they follow him? Do miracles wash away with the rain?
[Jaejoong’s POV]
Washing you out of my hair
I’ve done something so terrible. To bring him into my world would be fate more cruel than hell. A smile so bright, so true, so solid as his will never deserve the tainted adulteration of my world. I am preserving another rare bit of gold in the midst of rust. Leaving was best. For both of us. He may not understand-We may not understand, but his smile. That. Smile. I could do no less than die if That Smile became as dull as mine. Less than a day spent with him and something keeps pulling, coercing me back. Maybe it was because of that delusion. The delusion I can’t believe in. But it couldn’t be. It doesn’t exist.
But. I. Can't. Forget. That. Smile.
I’m sticking to my plan-my original plan. He deserves to stay pure. He deserves to stay pure. I can drench him in my dreary downpour no longer.
After all, these are my rain clouds.
[Yunho’s POV]
I guess I’ll go home now
Rain on me. Please.
It was an empty plea as Yunho stood at that same bus stop and the wind blew. He waited. And waited for a miracle. Another average miracle that made every day so delightfully breathless. If only he would let Yunho in. Rain on him. Just once. Soak him to the core with his dark grey drizzle and wait for the clouds to pass. It was only a matter of hope, of chance, of love. Just let the rain fall.
The rain was gone. As Yunho took the first soggy step of many in the other direction, he suddenly felt as if it would never rain again.
If the rain never came, how could the sun smile again?
I guess I'll go home.
--------------------------------------
The Yunjae love orders you to leave comments! <3
*cough* I feel like I rambled in this fic. ._. Oh, well. It's almost 1am and I have Japanese class tomorrow. 8D Maybe I'll actually eat tomorrow...
I don't own the song but I'd like to own Yunho. 8DD
Click to viewWoke up from dreaming and put on his shoes
Yunho woke up drugged. Polluted with thoughts of something wonderful and fantastic and hidden behind a blurry veil. What was it?
He sat up from the tangled, musky mess of his sheets, hair just as muddled and only one sock. A drifting yawn stretched from his bruised lips, his eyes scanned his dark bedroom as if searching for an answer with no known question. The angry scarlet-colored lights on the nightstand blinked 2:00am, screaming.
What was it?
This residue in his chest. Like something amazing had happened, but reality was too cruel to let him remember. Something too breathtaking for comprehension. Something too remarkable to define with a concept so trivial as memories.
A puzzling morning sickness of tumbling emotions-euphoria, anxiety, nausea, winded, mistaken, warmth. It made Yunho’s head reel as he slipped on his shoes and headed downstairs. Keep walking and he’ll find his answers.
Remembering Sunday
There was breakfast in the kitchen. Two eggs and buttered toast. Two cups of coffee, one half empty, the same as the house. The realization flooded him with the wafting smell of breakfast and regret.
Sunday.
The first step he took forward was slow and staggering. In a daze, wondering where the mist in his head had come from and why it was clearing now.
The second step was blind. Blinded by everything that hurt. The denial that refused to settle, the emptiness that pervaded his being, the knowledge that the toast was already cold.
The third step was quicker with a sense of purpose. The fateful stride that gave Yunho his balance and the strength to run to his climax and his descent.
The fourth, fifth and sixth led him sprinting out the front door with a slam.
Yesterday had been the best day of his life. Yesterday they met at the bus stop.
It was an average Sunday afternoon when Yunho plopped on the bench next to another young man with a drifting yawn and lazily stretched out his long legs. His eyes casually scanned the man’s pale, slender hands clutched tightly around a crumpled bus ticket, up his well-built chest and broad shoulders, over his smooth, elegant neck, and landed on his clear milky white face with the deep black eyes that held so much he never understood.
Yunho grinned warmly, eyes flickering up at the overcast skies and said, “Nice weather today.”
It was an average comment on an average day at an average bus stop. But he would soon learn that nothing was average and no day was anything short of a miracle.
The man’s name was Jaejoong, he soon found out after the dark haired, dark eyed man glanced back at him blankly, with unseen frozen tears and smiled tenderly.
“Those are my rain clouds.”
Words poured from the two from then on, hours must have come and gone as time slipped by and no one cared to go find it. The conversation so deep and carefree and gentle and everywhere and nowhere and filled with laughter, Yunho was far too wrapped up in fate to notice Jaejoong’s delicate hand tighten around the ticket as a bus stopped nearby, beckoning him to run with it, but Yunho’s smile urging him to stay. The doors closed and left. He stuffed the ticket inside his pocket just as Yunho took his hand and pulled him to another world. If only for a moment.
They learned so much from each other on such an average cloudy day.
Kindness.
Jaejoong learned how easy it was to do, yet so hard to find. Every little thing Yunho did was swathed in it. From offering a kid an extra quarter in the arcade, to brandishing smiles to a grumpy old woman on the sidewalk, looking the other way when a teenaged girl tripped on her shoelaces and hurried around the corner in reddened embarrassment and holding Jaejoong’s hand when he looked as if he were about to crumble.
Miracles.
“No day is normal,” Jaejoong had said with a dreamy smile. “There is a miracle every day. Just keep walking and you’ll find your answers.”
Yunho watched Jaejoong’s plump, red lips as he said this, marveling about how this man’s words were more beautiful than his feminine face.
A candy machine dropped two chocolate bars instead of the intended one. As the wind picked up, a small child firmly held his grip on a shining red balloon. A happily pregnant woman remembered to look both ways before crossing the street. A frazzled business man was able to hail a taxi. Yunho and Jaejoong’s first shared words.
They were all miracles.
But as Yunho held fast to Jaejoong’s cold hand, he began to wonder if the other had become too used to miracles. Jaded by the only thing that kept him grounded in whatever turmoil churned behind those black, wistful eyes, it had Yunho wishing he could help him find a new miracle to thaw his icy hand.
Freedom.
Jaejoong had never seen so much of it buried within one person. In Yunho’s bright smile and careless words, Jaejoong discovered a new world laced in unfounded trust. Every laugh was a bit of freedom with each click of Yunho’s camera.
As the two looked through Yunho’s digital camera, he began to wonder why Jaejoong kept himself so trapped. Each faded smile. It gave Yunho hope but scared him death, the story behind this man’s ambiguity.
Music.
And the love it entails.
They found a piano in the music store and enveloped themselves with it. Jaejoong’s voice poured with emotions Yunho couldn’t dare label as the other’s mild fingers danced across the keys. Every word, every note, every song held something so precious. In a trance, Yunho floated through the measures and struggled to unveil the secret behind the beautiful melodies that emptied out of Jaejoong’s throat.
“It sounds like love.”
Jaejoong stopped singing, his eyes flickering in a melancholic smile.
“I don’t believe in love.” And he continued singing.
Every song he sang felt so fleeting. Maybe that was why he couldn’t believe.
He pulls on his hand with a devilish grin
Somehow time had escaped. Somehow the sun had grown dimmer as the stars began to gleam. Somehow Yunho had invited Jaejoong to his house. Somehow Jaejoong pulled him upstairs. Somehow their clothes ended up on the floor. Somehow Yunho’s smile had been replaced by a series of desperate panting and Jaejoong’s name. Somehow Jaejoong’s cold skin had Grown. So. Warm. Somehow Yunho had lost a sock beneath the anarchic sheets and so much more.
Somehow.
But have you seen this man?
Yunho’s flying steps grew quicker, flicking up muddy water from puddles that spread larger still. He wanted another miracle. The world seemed to full of them when he was around. What happens when he’s gone? Keep walking, running and he’ll find his answers.
Knock knock.
None of the neighbors knew of a boy as dazzling as the pictures he shoved in their faces from Yunho’s camera. Of course he should have expected this. No photo could truly describe the true beauty embedded in this man’s every eyelash, gesture and utterance.
But he tried. Sprinting from door to door at 2am asking the same question and receiving the same answer. The rain pounded the ground as hard as his heart.
Who could deny these butterflies?
Crazy. Insane. Desperate. Recklessly out of his mind for this man. The feeling in his gut fluttered with so many sensations as he dashed through the rain. Jaejoong’s face fading in Yunho’s mind roused so much. Anger. Confusion. Love. Even if Jaejoong said he didn’t believe, Yunho was determined to call his bluff.
Funny how it rained all day
“Why do you want to know?”
The neighbor at the end of the block eyed Yunho warily, something shrewd hiding behind his eyes.
“I’m going to ask him to marry me.” Somehow the answer didn’t shock Yunho as it slipped passed his own rain-soaked lips.
Somehow.
The suspicion hovering around the man’s countenance melted into gentle, pitying understanding. He knew. Somehow he knew.
“I’m sorry. He moved away.”
And without so much as a “Thank you. Good bye,” Yunho tore away from the house, down the steps, darting blindly into traffic with the rain to hide his burning tears.
To find my whoever, where ever he may be
The raindrops struggled to keep up with Yunho’s flight as he raced back to that bus stop. His haven where everything began. Not even twenty four hours passed since he had tugged on Jaejoong’s slightly unwilling hand and learned and taught and fell in love with a ghost of a man. But a beautiful phantom haunting his heart, mind and soul, driving him absolutely
Crazy. Insane. Recklessly out of his mind.
This place. This wonderful, average, miraculous place. This place that held all his beginnings and hopefully no endings. Hope. Yunho could only hope as his sneakers slapped the pavement along with the droning pound of the rain.
He couldn’t leave. A world without Jaejoong was like a world without oxygen. Cherry blossoms. Birds. A place to be.
How could Yunho live without breathing, smiling, dreaming or even existing? It was impossible. All he needed was one more miracle.
Yunho stopped abruptly on one side of the street. A bus. And through the grey, hopeless rain, he saw a pair of legs disappear through the doors. And the bus rolled away.
What was it?
He couldn’t even see the identity of that last passenger, and yet, what made Yunho feel as if his entire universe had evaporated with roar of the engine as the bus vanished around the corner?
He closed his eyes tight. Keep walking and you will find your answers. Keep walking…
He stayed still. These rain clouds. Jaejoong’s rain clouds. Would they follow him? Do miracles wash away with the rain?
[Jaejoong’s POV]
Washing you out of my hair
I’ve done something so terrible. To bring him into my world would be fate more cruel than hell. A smile so bright, so true, so solid as his will never deserve the tainted adulteration of my world. I am preserving another rare bit of gold in the midst of rust. Leaving was best. For both of us. He may not understand-We may not understand, but his smile. That. Smile. I could do no less than die if That Smile became as dull as mine. Less than a day spent with him and something keeps pulling, coercing me back. Maybe it was because of that delusion. The delusion I can’t believe in. But it couldn’t be. It doesn’t exist.
But. I. Can't. Forget. That. Smile.
I’m sticking to my plan-my original plan. He deserves to stay pure. He deserves to stay pure. I can drench him in my dreary downpour no longer.
After all, these are my rain clouds.
[Yunho’s POV]
I guess I’ll go home now
Rain on me. Please.
It was an empty plea as Yunho stood at that same bus stop and the wind blew. He waited. And waited for a miracle. Another average miracle that made every day so delightfully breathless. If only he would let Yunho in. Rain on him. Just once. Soak him to the core with his dark grey drizzle and wait for the clouds to pass. It was only a matter of hope, of chance, of love. Just let the rain fall.
The rain was gone. As Yunho took the first soggy step of many in the other direction, he suddenly felt as if it would never rain again.
If the rain never came, how could the sun smile again?
I guess I'll go home.
--------------------------------------
The Yunjae love orders you to leave comments! <3
*cough* I feel like I rambled in this fic. ._. Oh, well. It's almost 1am and I have Japanese class tomorrow. 8D Maybe I'll actually eat tomorrow...
I don't own the song but I'd like to own Yunho. 8DD