The End
the end
suyin | drabble | pg
She tries to deny it; tries to say words over and over, telling herself of the opposite. And for a year or so, she’s sure she has started to believe them too.
She sees picures of him-in his blue soccer uniform, lips quirked in a pretty smile, eyes full of laughter, and in a wig, looking so much like her-and accidentally reads that headline about him weaping while recording a song about love. Then she hears the new piece he’s written-recognizes the very words she’d told him many, many times when she’d had enough.
And realization hits.
It’s official-Kim Junsu is the bane of Zhang Liyin’s life.
She just can’t stop thinking about him.
Even now, with this wonderful man holding her hand as if she’s the most precious treasure in the world, she yearns for the one person who has broken her heart one time too many.
“I have an idea,” the man beside her says, getting her attention.
“Hmmm?” she responds.
“Let’s get married,” he continues.
Liyin shifts in her seat, pulls her hand off of his, and looks at him straight in the eye. Her wits are in shambles, and she takes a moment to get her bearings straight.
“What?” she asks, clarifying.
“I said, let’s get married,” he repeats.
“No,” Liyin answers.
It’s the man’s turn to stare at her. It takes a minute, or so, before he shakes his head, laughing.
“That’s it?” he inquires. “No yet, or I’m not ready for marriage yet?” he adds. “Just an outright, no?”
Liyin doesn’t answer. The man stands, he slides his hands into his pants pocket. He shakes his head.
“Well, I guess, that’s it then.” He exits, door closing shut behind him.
She realizes her one-worded answer means so much more-even to her.
The tiny Chinese-born singer cries for a bit. It’s just a short bit, bedroom door locked in a pretense of her not being there. She doesn’t even answer it when Ara knocks.
The very next day, she sends all her former fling’s gifts back-keeping them wouldn’t be fair, at all.
Junsu never asked her to marry him. It was an unspeakable and unbroachable subject between them. But then, he had been in his early twenties, and she’d been even younger. Marriage was something neither of them thought of-she tells herself. Only, she knew she was lying to herself.
She wanted him to ask her. She wanted it so much that it had hurt when she learned he’d seen someone else during that one break they’d had. But, she figured, it was her fault. So when she heard that song-that beautiful, beautiful song, she couldn’t bring herself to back away.
Still, she yearned to hear the question.
But it never came.
Now, a couple of years later, she thinks, she knows why. And, somehow, she’s thankful he never asked.
Truly, walking around in the dead of the night has it’s perks. One can think clearly. Reminisce. Hope. Because, as much as Jang Riin looks happy, she knows she’s incomplete.
And she knows exactly what will complete her, she muses, stuffing her ungloved hands into her jacket pocket. She exhales loudly, watching the mist of her breath as she makes her way by the side of the river. She keeps her head bowed.
Junsu, she thinks, never asked her to marry him-he probably knew, even then, that he needn’t ask. Only, of course, they both had to wait.
Liyin wishes, oh how her heart wishes, that he still is.
Biting her bottom lip, she suddenly realizes that there’s a form standing before her. And as she lifts her head, his familiar muffler lets her know his identity without needing to see his face.
“It’s too late for you to be out like this,” Asia’s brightest star says, matter-of-factly. Then, Liyin sees him craning his head and looking behind her. She does too, turning to see what he is seeing. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.
“I-” she tries to begin, but words elude her. She takes one hand from her pocket and hides her blush behind it.
“Riinie,” Junsu calls.
“I don’t have-it’s been a while.”
The love of her life-yes, she only realizes or admits that he, in fact, is-shakes his head but laughs. He takes the thick leather glove off his right hand, yanking hers from her face and slipping the same into some warmth. “Riinie, when will you ever learn?” he asks, taking her other hand from her jacket pocket.
Kim Xia Junsu holds it tight, fingers entwined as if they’ve never been apart. And he tucks them into his pants pocket, his lips quirking into a sly yet contented smile.
Their wait has come to an end.
suyin | drabble | pg
She tries to deny it; tries to say words over and over, telling herself of the opposite. And for a year or so, she’s sure she has started to believe them too.
She sees picures of him-in his blue soccer uniform, lips quirked in a pretty smile, eyes full of laughter, and in a wig, looking so much like her-and accidentally reads that headline about him weaping while recording a song about love. Then she hears the new piece he’s written-recognizes the very words she’d told him many, many times when she’d had enough.
And realization hits.
It’s official-Kim Junsu is the bane of Zhang Liyin’s life.
She just can’t stop thinking about him.
Even now, with this wonderful man holding her hand as if she’s the most precious treasure in the world, she yearns for the one person who has broken her heart one time too many.
“I have an idea,” the man beside her says, getting her attention.
“Hmmm?” she responds.
“Let’s get married,” he continues.
Liyin shifts in her seat, pulls her hand off of his, and looks at him straight in the eye. Her wits are in shambles, and she takes a moment to get her bearings straight.
“What?” she asks, clarifying.
“I said, let’s get married,” he repeats.
“No,” Liyin answers.
It’s the man’s turn to stare at her. It takes a minute, or so, before he shakes his head, laughing.
“That’s it?” he inquires. “No yet, or I’m not ready for marriage yet?” he adds. “Just an outright, no?”
Liyin doesn’t answer. The man stands, he slides his hands into his pants pocket. He shakes his head.
“Well, I guess, that’s it then.” He exits, door closing shut behind him.
She realizes her one-worded answer means so much more-even to her.
The tiny Chinese-born singer cries for a bit. It’s just a short bit, bedroom door locked in a pretense of her not being there. She doesn’t even answer it when Ara knocks.
The very next day, she sends all her former fling’s gifts back-keeping them wouldn’t be fair, at all.
Junsu never asked her to marry him. It was an unspeakable and unbroachable subject between them. But then, he had been in his early twenties, and she’d been even younger. Marriage was something neither of them thought of-she tells herself. Only, she knew she was lying to herself.
She wanted him to ask her. She wanted it so much that it had hurt when she learned he’d seen someone else during that one break they’d had. But, she figured, it was her fault. So when she heard that song-that beautiful, beautiful song, she couldn’t bring herself to back away.
Still, she yearned to hear the question.
But it never came.
Now, a couple of years later, she thinks, she knows why. And, somehow, she’s thankful he never asked.
Truly, walking around in the dead of the night has it’s perks. One can think clearly. Reminisce. Hope. Because, as much as Jang Riin looks happy, she knows she’s incomplete.
And she knows exactly what will complete her, she muses, stuffing her ungloved hands into her jacket pocket. She exhales loudly, watching the mist of her breath as she makes her way by the side of the river. She keeps her head bowed.
Junsu, she thinks, never asked her to marry him-he probably knew, even then, that he needn’t ask. Only, of course, they both had to wait.
Liyin wishes, oh how her heart wishes, that he still is.
Biting her bottom lip, she suddenly realizes that there’s a form standing before her. And as she lifts her head, his familiar muffler lets her know his identity without needing to see his face.
“It’s too late for you to be out like this,” Asia’s brightest star says, matter-of-factly. Then, Liyin sees him craning his head and looking behind her. She does too, turning to see what he is seeing. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.
“I-” she tries to begin, but words elude her. She takes one hand from her pocket and hides her blush behind it.
“Riinie,” Junsu calls.
“I don’t have-it’s been a while.”
The love of her life-yes, she only realizes or admits that he, in fact, is-shakes his head but laughs. He takes the thick leather glove off his right hand, yanking hers from her face and slipping the same into some warmth. “Riinie, when will you ever learn?” he asks, taking her other hand from her jacket pocket.
Kim Xia Junsu holds it tight, fingers entwined as if they’ve never been apart. And he tucks them into his pants pocket, his lips quirking into a sly yet contented smile.
Their wait has come to an end.