Pulsatilla | Chapter 3/?
Pulsatilla
Author: love_cassiopeia
Summary: A complete mess was what Jung Yunho became after his beloved wife’s death. Trapped in a permanent state of isolation and loneliness, Yunho summons his knowledge on biology in hopes of recreating his wife in the form of an artificial human. However, the experiment goes terribly wrong and instead creates a male who has all his wife’s looks and qualities, one who he eventually decides to name ‘Jaejoong.’ Coping with the idyllic memories Jaejoong brings back of his wife, Yunho tries his best not to fall in love with his creation, knowing that the love he brings along is not the real thing-or is it?
Rated: PG-13 - NC-17
Warning(s): NC-17 material, language
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing(s): YunJae
Chapter 3: Désolé
Definition: The Pulsatilla is a deciduous perennial flower native to Europe and Asia that grows in the leftover nutrients of a dead plant. It is usually grown to replace another plant. It is capable of curing diseases and may be used in remedies.
D é s o l é
*
Although Jaejoong clearly wasn’t human and was constructed out of pure imagination, he was still considered prey in the presence of alcohol. The scientist responsible for creating him did not comprise him with any parts of machinery, neither did he equip him with a full-on living, beating heart. The goal of the scientist from the very beginning was to make sure his creation looked and felt the exact same as a genuine human.
He had a mind, used to store memories. He had eyes which were responsible for recognizing individuals amongst the vast, infinite world. He also had Seulki’s genes, ones which ran throughout him, making sure he would act and look similar to her at all times.
What the scientist didn’t know was that nearly resembling a human, the boy was also exposed to the symptoms and confusion that a regular dose of alcohol or drugs could easily bring along. He had the same structure as a human-the same tendency to act unwisely with alcohol in his body.
The older man he met only hours ago at the nightclub was resolute to lead the boy as far as he could go into his trap; after all, there was no reason denying that the boy was extraordinarily beautiful. The man’s apartment wasn't very far away; only three blocks, to be exact. From the very moment Jaejoong began to dance with him, he could feel that the man was remarkably desperate, holding a suspicious look in his eyes that spoke a thousand words (all based on the subjects of desire and one-night-stands, of course). Despite the warnings, Jaejoong couldn’t impel himself to leave, for the sensation of dancing within the multi-coloured lights with a taller man was just too amusing to ignore.
And alcohol. A part of him had fallen within its palms powerlessly already-there was no use fighting it.
For a moment, Jaejoong imagined himself as a real human. He felt weak, vulnerable-capable of defeat. He knew that if he really was actually fake, then he would be evidently invincible in a human’s game.
With the man leading him up the stairs to his room, Jaejoong remembered a single detail that nearly escaped his grasp during his few hours at the nightclub. He remembered a man with an angry face, tall and handsome, yelling at him in an unpleased tone.
“Yunho.” Jaejoong instantly blurted out as soon as the man began to unlock the door.
“Yunho?” The older man asked, curious. “Who the hell is that?”
Jaejoong shook his head, knowing that the memory of the man was still rather vague in his mind. He chose to ignore it, but the constant picture of the distinctive male kept returning to him, time after time.
He could still remember the last trail of words he told him before he left him at the nightclub that evening.
“Stay here. I’ll pick you up soon.”
If that was the last connection he had to the man, he certainly wanted to grasp onto it as tightly as possible.
“Do you mind if I use your phone? I uh… just need to talk with someone for a quick second, if you don’t mind.” Jaejoong pleaded. There was a part of him that desperately needed to get in contact with this man. Although his mind refused to remember any form of lucid information on him, his body propelled him to the task before his mind could react.
“Sure.” The older man surprisingly agreed, disregarding any chances that the phone call would be of any importance. “I’ll go get the condoms.”
Influenced by the alcohol that remained in his system, Jaejoong was unsure of what the man had meant. Ignoring the thought completely, he picked up the phone fervently and without much thinking, began to dial a number.
He had to get in contact with that man-Yunho, his name was.
Having no idea how he acquired the number, he was relieved to hear the typical monotone of the other line, telling him that he was connected. As the call followed through however, he practically died of impatience waiting for the man to pick up when in reality, only the answering machine would respond.
‘Hello, you have reached the residence of Jung Yunho. I’m afraid that I am unable to pick up the phone right now. Please leave your name, number, and message after the tone.’
Still drowned within the alcohol he consumed, he didn’t have a clue what to do from that point on. With a hesitant tone, he left a concise message informing Yunho of where he was, what he was doing, and what he was getting himself into. After his terse message concluded, Jaejoong hung up the phone and waited for the older man to return with his condom-whatever that was.
The man returned instantly with a small package in his hands and impish smirk on his lips. He did not hesitate to push Jaejoong onto the sheets, taking off his clothing one piece at a time, and lastly, removing his own clothing.
“I have yet to ask of your name.” The man clarified as he met his hungry lips with the boy’s. “I want to know your name so I can mutter it when the time comes.”
He wasn’t sure what the man meant, but knew that it was impolite to ignore his question. “Jaejoong.” He uttered. “Jaejoong is my name.”
The man smiled in response and started to caress the boy’s body in ways he’d never been touched before. The feeling was quite erratic, but he couldn’t deny it, it felt rather thrilling as well.
And somewhere within his consciousness, he considered that what he was doing was horribly wrong. But after the way that man, Yunho, spoke so furiously to him earlier today (almost as if he thought he was worthless), there was a large portion of him that desperately needed this.
In the end, he only wanted to be loved.
The scientist, Jung Yunho could lucidly remember his wife to the last detail. He remembered the delicious meals she used to make, the gestures she habitually made with her graceful body, and the loyalty she held within her altruistic soul. Looking back on the days when she was still alive, he couldn’t help but admit that every single part of her was faultless. Even though she had foolish habits and occasionally made idiotic mistakes, Yunho couldn’t help but cherish every one of those mistakes and embrace them with his all of his heart.
A habit of Seulki’s that set her apart from everyone else was her cautiousness and obedience. Whenever she was out-even at a grocery store-she would make a call to Yunho, informing him of where she was and what she was doing. This way, he was always in the know of where she was, making the relationship between them rigid and suspicion-free.
Now, with Jaejoong as her replacement, he wondered whether he would share the same characteristics or not.
But he needn’t to pay any attention to him now, for both Seulki and Jaejoong were in the past. He had abandoned Jaejoong at a nightclub earlier that night, telling him that he would return to pick him up in a few hours. No matter how inane his actions were, he just couldn’t find the strength to break the news to Jaejoong. With the same exact face as his wife’s, he just couldn’t bring about the courage to tell him that he just didn’t want him in the end.
He never wanted to see dejection on that same face ever again.
After abandoning the boy at the nightclub, Yunho didn’t immediately return to the apartment. He strolled around town in his vehicle, stopping at various grocery stores to purchase a few more packages of ramen and some taste-lacking frozen foods. He considered that now, since he was on his own once again, it would be best to let the microwave do the cooking for him. For goodness' sake, he didn’t want to poison himself by eating his own cooking.
It was around eleven-thirty when he returned to his penthouse. He had killed quite an amount of time today, either by thinking over how to disperse of Jaejoong, or by sulking and regretting his decision of abandoning Jaejoong. A fraction of him was glad to be back home, and yet, another fraction felt rather lonely, being within a secluded penthouse with no company whatsoever.
At first, he was rather pleased with the property he claimed after purchasing the expensive and luxurious penthouse for him and his wife. Now, however, he considered that perhaps living in a college dorm would be better than having to live within all this empty space.
As he unlocked the door that night, he instantly heard a gentle reverberation from the nearby answering machine on the marble counter. Setting down his groceries on the small kitchen table, he entered the living room and retired onto a sofa, pressing the button on the answering machine that would play the awaiting message.
He predicted that perhaps the message was from his co-workers or boss, and then lay back onto the sofa, unprepared for what the real message intended to carry out.
“Saturday, May 19th, 10:30 PM.” The answering machine announced. And then, without warning, a familiar soft, sweet, innocent voice engulfed the dark living room, nearly making Yunho jump up in alarm.
“Uh… Yunho, it’s me Jaejoong-that’s what you named me this morning, right? I know you told me that you would pick me up from the nightclub this evening, but you never showed up. Is everything all right? I hope you’re not hurt or anything…”
Yunho’s mind paused, taking the time to replay the occurrences which happened earlier today. How the hell did Jaejoong acquire his home phone number?
The message continued. “Anyways, just to let you know, I met a guy at the nightclub. We had a few shots of… what was that drink called again? Oh yeah, I remember, soju. He was nice enough to take me back to his apartment tonight. I’m waiting in his room right now while he went to get the condoms-what are those again? Never mind me… I hope you’re okay. If you ever decide to pick me up, I’m at 41901 Seoul Terrace apt. C-5 right now. I hope to see you soon.”
He didn’t know whether to scream spitefully or to stay utterly silent after Jaejoong’s message concluded. He couldn’t care less where Jaejoong was and what he was doing at the moment, but it was the mention of condoms that completely detained his full attention. Hearing the perpetuating slur in Jaejoong’s monologue, he understood entirely that he was under the malicious influence of the large amount alcohol he had consumed earlier. And now, he was in the apartment of some dirty pervert-one who probably thought Jaejoong was far too pretty to be a guy-most likely waiting naked in the guy’s bedroom for condoms to be delivered!
Just what the hell had he gotten himself into?
Only now did Yunho understand why Seulki could not tolerate a single sip of alcohol. She had once notified him in their first days together that she would be unwilling to drink a single shot of beer or soju, despite the circumstances or the persuasion of her friends. Then she informed him of an incident that occurred after a night of drinking and dancing. She told him that for the first time in her entire life, she was unable to think.
Perhaps that was the same case with Jaejoong. Perhaps his mind was as damaged just as much as Seulki’s in the company of alcohol.
But how the hell did Jaejoong manage to remember his name? How the hell did he discover the phone number without even being told of it in the beginning? And how come he chose to contact him about his whereabouts, just like Seulki once did?
Maybe he had not made a mistake after all. Maybe Jaejoong was the exact carbon copy of Seulki.
After listening to the succinct yet meaningful message, he left his position on the sofa and paced around the living room, trying to make a sensible decision. Would he leave Jaejoong be? This was what he wanted all along, wasn’t it? To abandon him and never have to see him again? But the innocence in Jaejoong’s voice, the naïve words; he couldn’t find a nerve in his body that wanted to ignore them.
Jaejoong was getting himself raped.
Yunho felt extremely culpable, leaving the boy by himself within the immeasurable world, and then ultimately, letting him fall to the hands of evil. He had the appearance of a man in his mid twenties, but in reality, he was only born yesterday. Was it considered humane to let this boy be raped on his second day alive-for him to experience the unwanted pleasure and pain?
Nevertheless, he wasn’t a boy.
In spite of whether he was human or not, Yunho comprehended that the boy shared his wife’s exact face. If the man he met at the nightclub were to sleep with him, then he would be sleeping with his wife as well. It took him a while to realize the disturbing detail, but he had to admit sooner or later that it was completely factual.
He just couldn’t-no, wouldn’t-allow his wife’s replica to lay convulsed, under an unknown man. He just couldn’t take it, imagining an expression of passion and rapture painted upon Jaejoong's face as another man lay upon him.
With that irksome thought in mind, Yunho lectured himself for waiting around and trying to make a decision while his wife was being raped at the very minute. Changing his facial expression immediately, he left his apartment and tumbled down the stories, trying to remember the address Jaejoong had comprised within his short message. Upon arriving at the parking lot, he immediately jammed the key into the ignition and sped off as if traffic regulations didn’t exist anymore.
At a time like this, he couldn’t dare to care anymore.
As he steered the wheel to his destination, he could almost feel his body shaking wildly within his seat. He couldn’t tell if he was frightened or just plain blameworthy. It was almost as if he himself had rendered his wife helpless and put her straight into the arms of an unknown man.
Despite whether Jaejoong was his wife or not, he could not find himself noticing any significant differences between the two. Surely Jaejoong was male and had a dissimilar body and voice, but he couldn’t deny that a part of his wife still continued to exist within this boy. Even if it was only the slightest amount, he knew he had to save her from the utter corruption and chaos of this fickle world.
He forgot to lock his car door when he arrived at the apartment building-a beautiful woman (or in this case, a man, considering Jaejoong didn’t exactly turn out with round hips or breasts) could cause a man to forget many things, they say. Having no time to hesitate, Yunho ran up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. His mind was fogged with anger-it was either caused by himself or by the man who lay above Jaejoong this very instant. He had to watch where he was going, for his aggravation and regret nearly blinded him.
As he reached the room number Jaejoong indicated from his message, he felt unconditionally auspicious that Jaejoong had executed every single trait and characteristic of his wife’s faultlessly. If he didn’t make that phone call earlier tonight, then he might’ve rotted here for the rest of his life… and then gotten himself lost within this endless labyrinth of a world he didn’t belong to.
Fuelled by his anger, Yunho banged stridently on the apartment door. Just who did this guy think he was, taking advantage of this pure, innocuous boy, dominating over him like this?
Fifteen seconds later, a man who looked as if he was in his mid-thirties came to the door, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and his facial expression informing Yunho that he had just gotten out of bed. The man rubbed his eyes jadedly, not very satisfied with the fact that a stranger had come knocking on his door a few hours after midnight.
“Bastard!” Yunho immediately gave the man an infuriated punch on towards his jagged cheekbone. “What the hell have you done to my wife?”
The man stared back in complete confusion. “Wife?” He questioned. “What do you mean, wife?”
Knowing that such words weren’t mean to spoken but was brought out by his anger, he knocked the man aside and ransacked the house for Jaejoong. He paused as soon as he arrived in the murky bedroom which now smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and the familiar scent of lavender which Seulki often carried after a shower. There, Jaejoong, lying wide-awake with a bleak expression on his face, displayed a naked body only slighted covered with a few blankets.
“Yunho…” The boy spoke with his naïve, pristine, honey-like voice. “You finally came to get me.”
Wanting to punch himself for what he had done, Yunho wrapped the naked Jaejoong in a series of bed sheets (his clothes were nowhere to be found) and attempted to leave the apartment as quickly as possible. The two them rudely brushed passed the older man-who now had a bruise and look of utter bafflement on his face-then soared down the flight of stairs as swiftly as they could. It was difficult for Yunho, now knowing that the man had already entranced into Jaejoong. Having that thought in mind, he understood that the single penetration was enough to make him abhor himself for all eternity.
He used up his entire bank of energy in order to haul the boy into the passenger’s seat of the car. The perplexity on Jaejoong’s face notified him that he was surprised Yunho had come to rescue him. It almost appeared as if he was dissatisfied that he couldn’t stay in the older man’s apartment any longer.
“I’m so sorry.” Yunho declared as soon as he situated into his seat. Then, almost with teardrops on his face, he drove away into the dark, cryptic, enrapturing city of Seoul.
So, after reading through this chapter, I’m sure you guys don’t necessarily hate Yunho anymore, but of course, I’m sure half of you still think that he’s either a coward or an idiot. But it’s okay, you don’t have to hate him anymore-everyone has a little bit of coward/idiot qualities, right?
I’ve been really busy nowadays, and therefore I haven’t been able to keep up with fic-reading or fandom. I’ve also been having quite a lot of dreams (not necessarily good ones) about Mr. A (for the people who know who he is), so I’m really glad that I have a fic to come back to where I can purge all my frustration and emotions.
Thank you to the people who have been following me and feeding me comments! Keep up the good work!
-Cindy
Previous chapters:
R é s u l t a t | A l i é n é | D é s o l é
Want more? For a list of chapters and stories, please don’t hesitate to visit my fanfiction archive