The Fall

October 20, 2000 Somewhere in the wilderness of Washington State

"Are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Yyyyeah," Jun answers you hesitantly. "I mean, we have to be right?" His eyes shift nervously over to you in the passenger seat.

"I thought so, but we were definitely supposed to be there already…"

You flip through the stapled stack of papers in your hand, scouring the printed out MapQuest directions for anything you missed, but you swear you followed them to a T. Yet, here you are, still driving down this endless pitch-black country road, illuminated only by Jun's 1987 Honda Civic's feeble high beams, not a sign of civilization in sight for miles now.

"I think… we should turn around," Jun announces defeatedly after glancing at the dashboard. "Car's running out of juice."

"Already?? Ughhh," you groan, dropping directions to the floor as you rub your tired eyes.

"I'm really sorry," Jun apologizes, looking sheepish. This was supposed to be a fun little weekend escape, the first in your new relationship together — but it's gone all wrong already, and he feels awful.

"You don't need to be sorry, it's not your fault," you console him. "Stupid MapQuest led us astray."

"I can't believe there's wrong information on the internet," Jun laments. He slows down, checking his mirrors before he swings the car around in a u-turn. "We passed a gas station at some point — I think we should have enough fuel to get us back there."

"Fingers crossed," you reply quietly.

Jun drives back the way he came, but fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes pass without a gas station in sight. All you see are trees, tall and looming, their dark outlines zipping by as you drive past.

"Where the damn hell is this gas station??" Jun wonders out loud. At this point, you both are tired, anxious, and just want somewhere you can stop for the night. You peek over at the fuel gauge — the tank is dangerously close to empty. Your lip quivers as you try to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, but you're too exhausted and scared. You start to sob quietly, looking out the window to hide your face, but Jun notices.

"Hey, y/n, it's gonna be okay," he tells you softly, reaching over to place his hand on your arm reassuringly. "I promise."

You give him a small nod, sniffling as you dry your tears with your sleeve. As you look back out the window, you spot a faint light in the distance.

"Look!" you say, perking up as you point at it through the windshield. "What's that?"

Jun speeds up a little, bringing into view the outline of a short, long building. It has a sign, unlit, but as you approach the car's high beams illuminate its single word: MOTEL

"Oh thank god," you slump into your seat in relief.

"It doesn't look very… open," Jun mutters, not letting himself get excited just yet. He presses the brake, slowing the car as he turns it into the gravel parking lot. It's empty, except for a rusty old truck parked in the grass that looks like it hasn't been operational in years. He pulls up to the building with the singular lit lantern — the motel office, presumably. It looks dark inside, and the blinds in the door window are shut, but the crooked, hand-written sign in the glass is flipped to OPEN. You stare at each other, both of you wary of this whole situation.

"Maybe… they'll at least have some gas?" you say to Jun, doubtful, but what choice do you have?

"Well, can't hurt to ask," Jun shrugs. He turns the key and the car engine goes silent. You unbuckle, reaching for the door handle, but he grabs you by the arm to stop you.

"Wait, don't get out yet." He pops open his door and jumps out of the car, briskly walking around to the passenger side and opening your door for you. He wraps his arm around you as you get out, holding you close to him.

"Whatever you do, don't leave my side," he mumbles quietly in your ear. "This place gives me the creeps."

He reaches for the round door knob, turning it slowly — to both your surprise, it turns. He swings the door inward, peering into the dim interior. Behind the counter sits a short, balding man, his round glasses glowing from the reflection of the screen of the small tv on the desk that appears to be the room's only light source. It seems to be playing a football game of some kind, but its volume is off, leaving the room eerily silent. The man looks up, peering at you with tired eyes. He doesn't say anything — just stares.

"Excuse me, sir" Jun asks, throwing a friendly smile on as he addresses the man. "We seem to have taken a wrong turn and we're running a bit low on fuel. Is there any chance you have any gas around here? I'd be happy to pay you for it."

"In the morning."

The man's voice is gruff. Based on the grimy ashtray full of cigarette butts sitting on his desk and the stale odor in the air, you assume he's a chain smoker.

Jun looks at him, waiting for him to elaborate. The man rolls his eyes.

"I don't have any now. But I'll have some in the morning."

"O…kay…" Jun replies, still confused. "You mean like, someone's gonna bring some by, or-"

"Yeah. In the morning."

Jun would love to know what the fuck he means by that, but he also desperately wants to exit this conversation.

"Okay, well, um, do you have any rooms available then?"

"Yes."

He stares at the man, waiting for him to do literally anything, but he doesn't even move. Looking closer, he doesn't even appear to be blinking. A shiver rushes over your skin; you're not cold, but you huddle closer into Jun anyway.

"Can we have one?"

The man stares back, unmoving. You start to wonder if he fucking died when he suddenly produces a single silver key from his breast pocket. He tosses it onto the desk.

"Room 4."

Jun reaches for the key, backing away from the desk as soon as it's in his palm.

"Thanks. Do I pay you now or-?"

"In the morning."

Jun gives the man a nod, quickly whisking you away as he bounds back out the door.

"Are you sure we should spend the night here?" you whisper to him as he leads you back toward the car.

"No, not really," he admits in a hushed voice. "But it's this or sleeping in the car, and that seems like an even worse idea."

He turns the key in the trunk lock. It pops open and he quickly grabs your bags, slamming it shut and relocking it. You both turn to head to your room, but are startled by the sight of an old lady in a wheelchair sitting right behind you.

"Jesus Christ!" Jun hisses under his breath, nearly jumping out of his skin. The old lady stares past you two, her eyes clouded with cataracts. Her hair is long and scraggly, dark-grey strands hanging in a tangle over the dingy brown flannel she has on over a full-length yellowed dress.

"Never open the door after midnight," she tells you in a hoarse voice. "Not for anyone, not for anything."

Her thin, wrinkled lips purse together as she starts wheeling herself away, slowly turning and continuing on past your car.

"Safety rises with the sun," she adds, eyes fixed straight ahead at nothing. You watch her roll away languidly until Jun grabs your hand.

"We better get inside," he murmurs nervously. You make a beeline for the room marked with a rusty metal 4, noticing the number sign is barely hanging on to the wall with one very loose nail. Jun sticks the key in the door, unlocking it with a click. He pushes the door open slowly, reaching inside and fumbling for a light switch. He finds it, flipping it on — a singular, exposed light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickers to life weakly, revealing a surprisingly normal looking motel room. The space is small, most of it occupied by the single queen size bed that much to your relief has fresh-looking sheets on it. Two simple nightstands stand next to each side of the bed, and on a small table across the room sits a boxy TV with slightly bent antennas. You glance back over your shoulder as you enter, looking past Jun's shoulder, but the strange old lady has seemingly vanished.

Once inside Jun immediately turns the deadbolt and locks the chain. Two thin red curtains hang over the shut blinds; he tugs them closed, making sure there are no gaps in the window. You plop your bag down, taking your shoes off before throwing yourself at the bed and immediately diving under the covers.

"I'm sure we'll sleep great tonight," you remark with an anxious laugh. Jun kicks his sneakers off, flipping the light off as he heads to bed as well. The room turns dark, but not pitch-black — the lantern outside the motel office creates a faint glow around the edges of the curtains. As your eyes adjust you see Jun climbing into bed beside you. Your heart flutters — this is the first time you're sharing a bed with him, which would probably be making you nervous if not for all the weird shit that's happened tonight that has you nervous already.

"We'll leave first thing in the morning, provided our pal back there actually can give us the gas he so graciously offered us."

The sarcasm in his voice makes you smile slightly. You feel safe beside Jun— even if you are stuck in this creepy motel for the night. But soon the strange old lady's words start to replay in your head, making you feel uneasy again.

"What do you think she meant?" you ponder out loud. "Never open the door after midnight… what was that about?"

"I think it means she's off her rocker," Jun answers matter-of-factly, making you smile a little. "Don't worry about her. Try and get some rest."

"I'll try," you say halfheartedly.

"Goodnight, y/n."

"Goodnight."

You lay there, trying to relax, but unsurprisingly you're still decently on edge. Jun seems to be as well — he wiggles around a bit before rolling over and gently resting his arm around your waist.

"Is this okay?" he asks softly.

"Yes," you answer, snuggling into him eagerly. "This is very okay."

"Good," he smiles, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You lay cuddled together comfily, but neither of you can seem to fall asleep.

Eventually Jun's hand drifts underneath your shirt, tucking it underneath the fabric and resting his palm on your belly, rubbing your soft skin gently with his thumb. It's comforting, but also the intimacy is starting to turn you on. Jun — who is already turned on by your mere presence next to him — doesn't want to pressure you into anything, but he really likes you, and he certainly wouldn't mind getting to second base at least.

You cuddle in closer to him, you as his little spoon, not-so-subtly pressing your ass against his crotch. Jun's heart begins to beat quickly — he tries not to get a boner, but it's too late. The blood is already rushing down there, and his cock begins to stiffen against your butt. You smile, pleased with yourself that he's already this turned on at the slightest provocation.

Jun's hand starts to wander, sliding up your belly, hesitating as he feels the swell of your breast against his fingertips — but you give him a nudge, pushing his hand up and over your boob. He excitedly squeezes at it, thumb brushing lightly against your pebbling nipple. You let out a very soft whimper, but it's enough to make his cock throb against your ass. He begins feverishly grasping at your boobs, pinching your nipples lightly as he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, planting a couple kisses on the delicate skin.

"Tell me to stop if you don't want me to-" he whispers, but you shut him up by grinding against his dick.

"Don't stop," you tell him breathily.

His hand excitedly meanders to the waistband of your sweats as he continues to kiss you, slipping underneath the pants as his fingers graze over your core through your underwear.

"Fuck," he moans as he discovers the damp patch in your panties. "I can feel how wet you are already."

"What can I say, I like you."

At that he slips his fingertips underneath the fabric, groaning at the stickiness awaiting him. He strokes your clit softly, the slow rhythmic movements of his hand stirring a sharp sensation in your gut. You let out a soft hum, your ass pressing into him as your back starts to arch. He swirls his fingertips around the bud, alternating between circling your clit and plunging his fingers into your heat. Soft moans escape your lips as he fingers you, reflexively making you grind your ass harder still against his boner.

"Oh god, keep doing that," he groans. "Actually, don't," he says, pulling his hips back. "I'm gonna bust already."

This only makes you press into him more, rubbing his clothed cock between your cheeks.

"Oh fuckkkkkk," he moans, rutting against you as he starts losing his composure. His fingers continue their delicate brushstrokes against your clit, making it swell and throb as he touches you perfectly to your undoing. Your legs shake as you climax, soft moans filling the room as he works your clit through your orgasm. As your body slows you reach behind you and grab his dick through his pants, giving it long slow strokes.

"Holy shit," he mumbles, flopping onto his back as he rocks his hips back and forth against your palm. Despite your blissful daze you roll over, scooting down so your face hovers above his crotch. You undo the button, tugging the zipper down and pulling his cock out. Dribbles of precum spill from its tip; you lap them up with your tongue, prompting Jun to let out a long moan. You drag your lips around his length as you take the cock in your mouth, sucking at it slowly.

"Oh my god," he groans. "Will you…" His words trail off; you pop his dick out of your mouth and look at him.

"Will I what?" you smile at him sweetly.

"Will you please sit on my face? I need to taste you now," he pleads, reaching for your ass. You pull your bottoms off and swing your leg over his torso, sinking your pussy onto his lips as you put the head of his cock in your mouth and suck on it.

"Holy fucking shit," he groans, his voice muffled as he presses his whole face into your cunt, lapping up the sticky mess produced by your orgasm. "This is heaven."

His tongue flicks against your clit feverously as you bob your head up and down, taking his length down your throat. Jun starts babbling incoherently, unintelligible as he goes to town on your pussy. His hips start thrusting, fucking his cock into your mouth as you play with his balls.

"Baby, 'm gonna cum…"

You can barely decipher his words, but right as he says them a release of hot cum shoots into the back of your throat. His cock pulses as he jerks his hips, tongue still furiously working your clit, driving you to cum again. You gag as your body trembles atop your boyfriend, coating his face in your juices as he gives you a few final spurts of his release. You carefully pull your lips off his length, collecting all of his cum and swallowing it. Sleepily grabbing your sweats, you shimmy back into them before the chill of the room gets to you, then collapse onto the bed beside him. He tugs at your arm, pulling you back into his embrace as he takes you as his little spoon again.

"Wow," he mumbles, his voice gravelly in your ear. "That was incredible."

Hot breaths escape your lips as you try to catch your breath. "Yeah it was." Jun giggles, squeezing you lightly.

"Let's try get some sleep now," he mutters . You nod, already drifting off to sleep in his arms.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

You bolt upright, the springs of the cheap mattress creaking beneath you. You scan the room, disoriented, but then you remember where you are. Jun's eyes open reluctantly. As he clumsily props himself up on his elbows, the sound returns again.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Hey kids, I got your gasoline," the gruff voice of the motel manager calls through the door. You and Jun stare at each other — it's still the middle of the night, you haven't been asleep long. Reaching for your wristwatch on the nightstand beside you, you tap its side button, the digital display lighting up neon blue and showing you the time: it's 2:00am on the dot. Jun slowly starts to get up, but the creepy old lady's words drift through your mind again: Never open the door after midnight.

"Wait!" you whisper, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back onto the bed. "Remember what the old lady said?"

"It's just the manager though," he replies calmly. "We can get the gas and get out of here."

"Why did he tell us like five times that we had to wait until morning if he was just gonna knock on our door at 2am then?" you point out, showing him your glowing watch face. You see the gears in Jun's head turning, finally clicking as a worried look washes over his face.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"C'mon kids, you wanna get out of here or what?" the man outside the door calls to you, but the inflection in his voice sounds like he's taunting you now.

"Tell him to just leave it outside," you whisper to Jun. He nods slowly in agreement.

"You can leave it outside the door," he calls out in a raised voice. "We'll get it, thanks."

"Don't keep me waiting," the man growls at you. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. "C'mon, open the door." KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Should we look out the window?" Jun whispers, looking at you. "See if he actually has the gas?"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"I'm waaaaaaitinggggg," the man bellows, a sinister timbre overtaking his voice.

You shake your head. "If he does have the gas he can just leave it. There's no reason we need to open the door."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"You want this shit or not, motherfuckers?!" the man screeches, his voice grating and sharp as nails.

"Should we call the police?" you ask as you shrink into Jun, clinging to him anxiously. He reaches for the landline beside him, but as he picks up the handset a loud continuous low tone echoes from the receiver. No signal. He quietly hangs the phone up and wraps his arms around you.

"He has to get bored eventually," he mutters into your ear. "He's not gonna stand out there all night."

Silence fills the room, the only sound other than your own pounding heartbeat being the grotesque, wheezing breaths of the man outside the door.

"Alright, suit yourself," he finally grumbles angrily. You hear his shuffling footsteps as he stumbles away, the sound tapering off at an agonizingly slow pace before fully disappearing, plunging you back into deafening silence.

You take a sharp inhale, realizing that you've been holding your breath. You sink into Jun, holding onto him tight as you shiver, trying not to cry again.

"He's gone, we're okay," Jun assures you as he kisses you on the forehead. "C'mon, let's try and get some rest. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

He hugs you tight as you lay back down, the warmth of his body relaxing you some. You intertwine your fingers with his, holding his hand as you try to fall back asleep — it feels hopeless at first, but by some miracle, you are soon slipping off into unconsciousness again.

tap tap tap

Still half asleep, the sound filters into your dream. You aren't exactly having a nightmare, but strange shadowy imagery floods your mind's eye, and the vibes are certainly off.

tap tap tap

Hearing it again, you realize the sound is coming from an external source. You squint one eye open, staring at the dark ceiling of the motel room you are displeased to find yourself still in. Your hand is still holding Jun's as he snores gently beside you.

tap tap tap

"Jun…" you mumble, shaking him lightly. He mutters something unintelligible, flopping his head over in his sleep. "Jun," you try again. His eyes pop open.

"What is it?" he asks sleepily, but the sound returns again.

tap tap tap

He sits up, looking toward the locked door where the rapping appears to be coming from.

"Excuse me," a small voice trickles through the door. It sounds like a child.

"I can't find my mommy," the child calls out timidly. "Can you help me find her?"

You look over to Jun, his wide eyes telling you he is as unnerved as you are.

tap tap tap "Excuse meee."

Reaching for your watch again, you check the time: 4:00am, on the dot.

"Do you think that's actually a child?" you whisper. Jun slowly shakes his head, and you can tell he's thinking the same thing you are: it's the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere — where on earth would an unattended child even come from?

"Don't open it," he mouths. You nod; you weren't planning on opening the door earlier, and you certainly aren't planning on opening it now.

tap tap tap "Can you help me please?" tap tap tap "Please?"BANG BANG BANG "WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME."

The child's voice is garbled as it bellows, the growls of some horrible, angered beast breaking through the timid words.

BANG BANG BANG

The door quakes with each booming impact. You cover your ears, trying to drown out the awful sound. Jun holds onto you as he stares at the door with fright, hoping and praying whatever's out there can't break it down.

BANG BANG BANG

tap tap tap

You hesitantly lift your hands from your ears, but the banging has ceased, replaced with the light tapping again.

tap tap tap

"Can you help me find my mommy?"

The voice has returned to that of a child, but it is no less frightening. You wait, trying to reason that if the manager (or whoever it was before) had left, then whoever it is now will also leave eventually. A few minutes of silence pass, before the small voice pipes up again.

"Sorry to bother you. I guess I'll go now."

Light footsteps echo as the child appears to depart. You are once again left in silence.

Neither you or Jun are able to fall back asleep. You both lay there in the eerie silence, tossing and turning, but the effort is futile.

You keep checking your watch, growing anxious as time passes. Your unwelcomed visitors had appeared exactly two hours apart, and it's now 5:53am. If the pattern continues, you're due for another in seven minutes.

You roll over toward Jun, finding him on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. You know he sometimes sleeps with his eyes open, so you're unsure if he's awake or not, but his head turns to you.

"Hey," he whispers, beaming softly at you through heavy eyelids.

"Hi," you smile back. As freaky as this whole night has been, you've never felt truly in danger with him by your side.

He reaches over and grabs you, rolling you over on top of him. Your noses press together as he holds you tight against him, rubbing your back softly as you lay there. You give him a kiss, soft and slow. As your lips part he grins at you lazily.

"You're so pretty," he tells you lovingly. You know you absolutely look like death right now after this restless night, but Jun doesn't care. You look as beautiful to him now as you did the very first day he met you.

"It's almost morning," you tell him. "Do you think that creep-o manager will actually come through with the gas?"

"I sure hope so."

"As soon as the sun comes up, let's leave," you say to him. Safety rises with the sun, the old lady had said. And you sure fucking hope she is right.

knock knock knock-knock

"Honey? You in there? It's me."

Your blood turns to ice at the words carrying through the door. Jun's eyes widen in horror, him too recognizing the familiar voice.

"Honey? Come outside, your father and I are here to take you home."

The unmistakable voice of your mother rings warmly in your ears. A sense of relief washes over you, an instinctual reaction to her comforting nature — but still your stomach twists, because you know without a doubt that is not your mother outside the door.

knock knock knock-knock "Come on out, love," your mom's voice says, sweetly as ever, but it's all wrong. You cling to your boyfriend, tucking your head into the pillow as you try to drown out the sound, but the voice continues.

"Come on, let's get going," it calls, growing irritated as the knocking returns. "Don't you trust your mother?"

"Shhh, baby," Jun comforts you as you quietly start to cry, petting your hair and kissing you on the cheek. "The sun's almost up, it'll all be over soon."

knock knock knock-knock "You're not even going to answer the door for your own mother? How could you??" the voice mocks, its tone shifting to a deeper, unfamiliar register.

"Don't listen to it," Jun whispers.

knock knock knock-knock "Come on, honey," the voice snaps at you. "Open the door NOW."

Your face is buried in the pillow, but Jun taps you on the back. You lift your head, opening your eyes to see him pointing at the window. The curtains are still closed, but in the very corner you can see a sliver between the blinds, the faintest light of dawn peeking through. At long last, it is morning.

Suddenly, a horrid, bloodshot eye appears behind the glass.

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!!!!!!!" a furious growl screeches. But as the sun rises past the horizon, its rays beam into the window, and when you look again, the eye is gone.

"I think it left," you say, bouncing out of bed and reaching for your shoes. Jun follows suit, collecting your packed bags; as he approaches the door, he carefully pulls the blinds back, peering outside.

"There's nothing out there," he says, sighing with relief as he turns to you. "It's gone."

Still nervous as he unlocks the door, he opens it slowly, but just as he said, the coast is clear. He takes your hand as you both sprint to the car, cheering when you spot a canister of gas sitting on the ground by the back tire. He picks it up, grinning widely as the full container of liquid sloshes around inside. He unlocks the car and pops the gas tank, filling the car as fast as he can. While he does that, you look at the office, wondering if the creepy manager is inside — but you notice the sign in the window is flipped to CLOSED. You walk over to the door, turning the handle, but it's locked, and as you pull your hand away you notice a thick layer of dirt on your hand from touching the knob. You look around at the motel in the daylight, getting a good look at it for the first time. Everything is as it appeared last night — except, the entire place looks horrifically run down, dilapidated and crumbling, with overgrown weeds and ambling vines snaking up the exterior walls. No sign of the manager, or the strange old lady in the wheelchair, or a lost child or your mother. It's as if this place was long since abandoned — sitting untouched for years.

"Done!" Jun shouts, tossing the emptied canister aside as he shuts the fuel door, the tank now filled. He runs over to you, giving you an elated celebratory kiss before grabbing your hand and tugging you back toward the car.

"C'mon, let's get the hell out of here."

The day ahead of him will be a long day of wearing his idol Jun hat, but without his brothers it seems wrong. Fancalls can be fun, because meeting Carats is always rewarding, but the sheer amount of time he has to devote to this today is almost astronomical.

Jun sat in front of the phone waiting for the first call to begin. His staff buzzed around him, finishing last minute prep that there will be no time for during the long line of calls. Jun watched them, feeling sorry that he can’t help out with whatever needs done. A woman comes to him and touches up his makeup and informs him he has about five more minutes.

He slips his personal phone out of his pocket.

Junnie: long day ahead, Xīngān, talk l8r 😽

Jun smiles to himself feeling his phone buzz right as he returns it to his pocket. He can’t wait to hear about your day later, once he’s back in his apartment he keeps in China for these long stints of acting gigs.

Carats are always fun to talk to most days, today is no different. Jun got to see plenty of cats and had his fair share of odd questions to side step, admittedly not nearly as many as Vernon typically gets, but enough to tire him out.

He stretches his arms over his head, feeling almost giddy as the next call is the last one before he gets to go back to his own space and text you until he falls asleep, probably on the couch. His eyes close slightly, enjoying the stiffness of his muscles evening out, as the call connects.

A voice, a strangely familiar voice, greets him in Mandarin on the other end of the line. His eyes snap open to see your smiling face on the phone screen in front of him.

He opens his mouth to speak but the words don’t form so you signal for him to stay quiet. Any adverse reaction from him would alert staff and put a wrench in your plan and the secret you two have been keeping from the rest of the world for years.

“I just wanted to tell you, I’m so proud of you and the hard work you have been committed to for so long” your voice crackles through the ear buds, “You’re so talented and dedicated to what inspires you and I can’t wait to see what you do next, whatever it may be, I just hope it’s back in Seoul” you laugh, “Talk to you soon my Junnie”

The early morning haze was interrupted by the glow of a neon “open” sign affixed to the window of the only permanent building near the bus stop shelter.  This building never stood out to you, it was always quiet and dark when you got on and off the bus.  Every morning and every evening, without fail whoever owned the building got there after you and left before you.  The smell of spices wafted out of the door and almost made you stop before you realized this all meant that you were even later than you thought you were.  The bus you usually take was long gone by now and you didn’t even know the schedule well enough to know when the next one would arrive.  

Sighing, you accepted your fate and moved toward the shelter and squatted in front of where the stray cats always play.  A small orange kitten was playing with the weeds growing out from the cracks in the sidewalk.  You reached out to pet him, and as soon as his attention settled on you, he flopped to the side and tried to playfully bite your fingers as you wiggled them. 

You heard the bus approach the kitten trotted away toward the restaurant.  Once settled in your seat on the bus you check your watch, 7:45 am and still another 15 minute bus ride to work.  You sigh and prepare yourself for the reprimand you will surely get once you arrive.      

“You’re late.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, Ms. Lee,” you bowed your head apologetically, “I missed the first bus…I had to wait for the next one.”  Ms. Lee, the head nurse of your unit, swiveled around in her chair.  

“Well, you could have called,” she gestured to the phone at the nurse’s station, “Eunbi had to stay after her night shift to cover for you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Just don’t let it happen again,” she stood up from her chair, “Get changed,” she began to walk away and turned back to you briefly, “Oh, and Y/N?” You nodded, “I’m sure you won’t mind staying late tonight to even out the shifts for Eunbi, hm?” 

“Of course not,” you muttered, a certain dread settled in your stomach as you walked to the nurse’s changing room.  By staying late tonight you will run into the same problem you had this morning.  You don’t know the next bus after your usual one.  You shuffled into the room and caught sight of Eunbi slipping into her coat.  

“Good morning, Y/N!” She smiled at you.  

“Eunbi, I’m so sorry for making you stay late!” You slumped against your locker, “it was a total accident I missed my bus and-”

“Woah!” She laughed and reached out to smooth her hands over your arms.  “It’s totally okay, it happens, you’ve covered for me before.”  

“It’s just that…Ms. Lee,” you started.

“She’s a crotchety old bat,” she rolled her eyes.  “We all think so, no one else here is mad at you.”

“Thank you,” you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, “but I’m still covering the first 45 minutes of your shift tonight, don’t try to tell me no.”   

“Alright, alright, see you at shift change.” She smiled and squeezed your arms before leaving you alone in the quiet room.   After changing as quickly as possible you made your way back to the nurse’s station to catch up on what you missed.  

“Mr. Kang in 304 has been looking for you all morning,” Ms. Lee informed you as she pushed his file into your hand, “he will only take his medication from you if you could help him right away.” 

Your knock on the door of room 304 echoed down the hallway.  It was still early so the quiet of a hospital before a day begins was generally still intact.  You pushed through the door to see Mr. Kang propped up on his pillows, smiling at you.  

Mr. Kang has been in your care since you started at this hospital a few months ago.  You work in the long term care unit, so it isn’t uncommon for patients to form attachments to nurses here.  He was an old man, probably old enough to be your grandpa, who became a widower years ago.  A week or so before you started here he had a terrible fall at home, breaking his hip.  

“Good morning Mr. Kang!” You mustered a smile.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He smiled softly and attempted to sit up straighter.  You moved to his side quickly to help him with the pillows.  

“So,” you sat in the chair near his bed when he was settled, “I hear you aren’t taking your pills from  Ms. Lee or Eunbi?”

“Is that what Ms. Lee said?” He chuckled, “it’s not that I won't, it's just that I’m used to it being you in the morning, and when it’s not, I have trouble.”  

“Be that as it may, you still need your medication, Mr. Kang.” You informed him before moving to retrieve the medication.

“It’s a bit late now,” he started, you sighed thinking he was going to try and get out of taking the medication, “but could you take me to the big windows to watch the rest of the sunrise?” 

“Tell you what,” you begin to divide the pills into small cups, “take your pills, no complaints, and I’ll take you.” Mr. Kang eagerly agreed.  You helped him into his wheelchair and the two of you made the short trek to the back of the wing where the big windows were.  

Mr. Kang told you about how he and his wife used to watch the sunset every Saturday morning while they ate breakfast together.  These mornings were the highlight of his week, he was so happy to just have moments with his wife where time didn’t matter, just the two of them.  Every time he tells you this story, or something similar about his wife, you are struck with the fact that you never have the time to do anything like this. Since graduating nursing school your life has been scheduled out to the minute.  This morning at the bus stop was the first time in months that you felt the urge to go against that schedule.    

“It’s going to snow soon,” Mr. Kang pulled you out of your thoughts. He pointed a crooked finger at the dark clouds overhead.  “Be careful going home tonight, I remember how unreliable those buses can be.”   

The cold winter air stung your cheeks and whipped your hair.  Mr. Kang was right, it would snow today, the day you had to stay late and miss your bus.  Because of the weather the buses weren’t running on schedule, you waited for almost an hour at the bus stop and no one ever came.  You had to walk home.  

The snow swirled around you and made it difficult to see, you knew that you were almost home, or at least, it felt that way.  You were soaked and freezing to the bone, you’d be lucky if you woke up with just a cold tomorrow.  Just as the shelter of your bus stop was starting to materialize through the snow you felt your foot catch the curb in front of you. You attempted to catch yourself but there was no use, you were falling. When you open your eyes to assess the situation you realize you fell into an alleyway and were lying on the ground staring up at a few trash cans.     

Just as you decided that maybe you should just lay here and die, you hear the door of the building to your left open.  A man is yelling in a language you don’t understand, is he yelling at you? Before you had any time to think about that you felt a hand on the back of your coat, pulling you up off the ground.  

“Oh,” the man blinked down at you, “it’s you.” With that he pulled you inside.  He placed you in a corner near the front door.  “Stay there.” He instructed you and held his hands out as if he was taming a wild animal.  He backed away from you slowly for several steps then turned on his heel and ran into a back room.  You heard him rifling through things for several minutes.  

Beyond that the only sounds in the small room were the dripping of melted snow off your coat and on to the floor.  You took in your surroundings, slowly dethawing.  The room was actually a small restaurant, with tables crammed into the small space. The room the man disappeared into was near the kitchen, judging by the location of the window behind the counter.  

“You must be freezing,” he emerged from the room with a stack of clothes, “why didn’t you take the bus in this weather?” He was scolding you like you were best friends for years.  

“I’m sorry? Do we know each other?” 

“No, not really,” he blinked at you.  

“Then…” you searched his face.  

“You get on the bus when I get off,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “and in the evenings, you get off the bus when I get on.”  He held the clothes out to you again, as if to remind you why you’re in his restaurant.  “You’re dripping on my floor.” He mumbled.  

“Oh!” You gasped and began searching for a place to hang your coat. He placed the stack of clothes on a nearby table and helped you out of your coat.  

“Take them,” he gestured to the clothes with his elbow, “the bathroom is back near the kitchen, change and warm up.” You nodded at the strange man’s kindness and headed to the bathroom to change.  

You peeled your wet clothes away from your skin, grateful to be rid of them.  In the kitchen you heard pots and pans clanging and soon there was a spicy aroma engulfing the entire building.  Once you were ready you walked back into the main dining area.  The clothes he lent you were far too big for you, the sweatpants were dragging on the floor and you felt like you were swimming in the oversized hoodie, but you were thankful to be warm.  

“Have a seat anywhere!” He called through the window from the kitchen, “it’s almost ready!” You had no idea what he was making or why but you would be thankful for a warm meal after the day you had.  The chair scraped across the floor of the otherwise quiet restaurant.  Now that you could feel your toes you took another look around the space.  The neon sign that you remembered from this morning was turned off, and the windows had their blinds closed.  It was like the entire building was shut off from the outside world.  Seeing it this way from inside was strange, as it usually was buttoned up like this when you saw it waiting for the bus.  Which would make sense, you realized, if what he said was true, that you were on the opposite side of the bus schedule on a normal day.  

“I made soup,” he emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray with two bowls.  He sat the tray on the table in front of you and contemplated sitting down for a few seconds too long for someone who made two bowls, clearly for the both of you.  Finally, he plopped into the chair across from you and passed you a spoon. He moved one of the bowls from the tray so it was in front of him.  You watched as he took a large spoonful, blew on it lightly, and popped it into his mouth.  His eyes closed and he was obviously proud of the dish.  

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he stared at you.  “Do you like spice?” he asked around the soup in his mouth, sounding muffled and panicked.  You couldn’t help it, you burst out laughing.  His eyes grew wider than you had seen them all night and he swallowed his mouthful.  

“I’m so sorry,” you tried to control the giggling, “yes I’m fine with spice.  Is this spicy?” 

“Oh, yes,” he nodded enthusiastically, “it’s called Hulatang which literally means peppery and spicy soup.  It’ll clear your sinuses.”

“You didn’t poison it, right?” 

“What?” He looked at you bewildered.

“Well, you picked me up out of the trash,” you bring your spoon to your lips, “and I don’t even know your name.” You put the spoon in your mouth.  The flavor blossoms on your tongue.  

“Junhui” 

“Okay, Junhui.” You nod, “can I have a glass of water?”  He scrambled behind the counter to find a glass.  He returned quickly.  

“Is it too much?” He asked, sitting back down, “I handle spice well, so I can’t tell.”   

“No, no,” you sipped your water, “it’s good, so good.” He smiled and went back to his meal.  The two of you ate in silence until the bowls were empty and you felt warm from the spicy broth.  

“I thought you were a raccoon earlier.” He blurted out of the blue as he was clearing the dishes from the table. “The raccoons always get in my trash, I was surprised they would be out in this weather though.” He continued, “I do worry about the cats though…” 

“First snow of the year, and it’s brutal,” you agreed, “wait, you’re the one who feeds the cats!” You exclaim over the sound of the water turning on.  You follow him back to the kitchen so you wouldn’t have to yell.  

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up from his task, “if I didn’t, who would?” He moved the pot he used to make the soup into the sink.  You smiled to yourself, remembering the kitten you played with this morning.  

“How long have you been feeding them?” You asked, helping him move glasses from the side into the sink.  He smiled at you.  

“Since I started renting this building,” he thought for a moment, “Almost three years ago.” 

“That long?” You gasped, “I’ve only been living in my apartment near here for a few months.  I just graduated nursing school and I got a job at the hospital.” 

“Oh I live near there,” he nodded, knowing exactly where you were talking about, “we live near each other’s work places.” He pointed out.  

“Suppose we do,” you smiled.  

“What’s your name?” He asked, turning off the sink.  

“Oh my God,” you blushed realizing you never told him, “Y/N.” 

“Y/N.” He repeated softly as if tasting the new information on his tongue.     

It has been four days since you met Junhui at his restaurant.  You made sure to look for him while getting on and off the bus.  He always smiled at you, no time to talk so smiles do just fine.  You never did get the chance to ask him why he was still out that night.  

You rolled over in bed and checked your phone.  It was 10:40 am on your day off and you couldn’t stop thinking about the man who runs the restaurant down the street.  It would be lunch time soon, maybe you could convince yourself to make the short trip over.  To eat, certainly not to see him again.  

Without a second thought you were out of bed and fixing your hair in the mirror.  Once satisfied with how you looked, you threw on your coat and went out the door.  The walk to your bus stop is short and relatively easy.  The weather today was much nicer than the last time you found yourself inside Junhui’s restaurant.  

The bell above the door twinkled at your entrance.  You shifted awkwardly at the entrance of the building as the only other patron shot you curious glances.  

“One moment!” You heard Junhui call from the kitchen.  Soon, he appeared from the kitchen holding a tray similar to the one he brought your soup on a few days prior. He stumbled and almost dropped the tray when he saw you in the doorway. The other man in the room laughed and said something teasingly in a language you didn’t understand. Junhui glared at the man and then glanced back at you.  “Y/N, do you speak Mandarin?”  As soon as you confirmed that, no you do not, Junhui was uttering what you could only assume were curses at the other man.  He set the plates of food on the table. “You can have a seat wherever you like, I’ll be right with you!” He smiled at you.  

You selected a table near the kitchen, the other man was at a table near the only window in the building.  The two of them continued to bicker in Mandarin for a few minutes.  You smiled to yourself, Junhui seemed close with him.  Eventually, he broke away, and made his way to your table.  

“Hi,” you smiled at him.  

“Hi,” his lips broke into a small smile, “I’m sorry about him, he’s my best friend, we’ve known each other for ages.” 

“No worries,” you assured him.  

“What can I get you?” He bounced awkwardly on the balls of his feet.  He looked less tired today, his eyes were bright and his dark hair was tucked up into a beanie.  You eyed the menu he still had tucked under his arm.  “Oh!” He scrambled to grab it and all but threw it down on the table in front of you. 

“Any recommendations?” You asked, scanning the menu full of dishes. He took a deep breath and sat down across from you.  He started in on an explanation of the menu.  You struggled to listen to everything he had to say because you were busy admiring him.  He was so passionate about his recipes and the food he got to make. 

“This one is my grandma’s recipe,” he pointed to an item on the menu and looked up at you with expectant eyes. “It’s ground pork and egg basically.” 

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely,” you smile at him.  “Tell me how to pronounce it so I can ask for it by name next time.”

“Xiándàn zhēng ròubǐng,” he collects the menu and practically skips back to the kitchen with the promise of you coming back again.  You watched him go until he disappeared then you pulled out your phone to pass the time.  

“I’m Minghao by the way,” you looked up to see Junhui’s friend standing in front of you.  “I’ve heard a lot about you, I hope you keep coming around to keep him company.” He smiled at you before shouting Junhui’s name and telling him something in Mandarin.  Junhui responded from the back and with that Minghao knocked twice on your table and turned to leave.

About ten minutes later, Junhui reemerged to clear Minghao’s table. He began clearing it of the dishes left behind.  

“Did he bother you?” He asked as he passed your table with dishes stacked in his hands.  

“Oh, no!” You assured him, “he just introduced himself.” You conveniently omitted the part about Minghao letting you know that Junhui had been talking about you.  

“Oh, good,” he nodded, “your meal should be ready in about ten minutes, I’ll be back then.”      

As promised he returned with the food you ordered and a glass of water.  He set the food on the table and sat in the chair across from you.  “Taste,” he told you, he could hardly contain the giddiness he felt.  It was bubbling in his chest and he bounced his knee under the table to expel some of the extra energy he felt.  

“Have you eaten?” You asked, picking up your spoon.  

“Hm?” He blinked, “oh, no, not yet.” 

“Get a spoon,” you pointed toward the counter, “we’ll share.” He smiled widely at you and quickly retrieved a spoon.  The two of you split the meal, getting to know each other as you ate.  You told him all about your job at the hospital and your trouble with Ms. Lee.  Junhui made a disapproving noise when you told him about what happened on the day you showed up in his trash. 

“She sounds horrible,” he mumbled around a mouthful of rice.  

“She is!” You threw your hands up, “we all think so, even Eunbi, who is the nicest person there.” 

In turn Junhui told you about how he ended up owning a restaurant at a bus stop thousands of miles from where he was raised.  He was feeling stuck in the monotony of his job, which he found extremely boring, in China.  So he set out to find something new and he ended up here. He tried finding a job but ultimately decided to open up this restaurant which is like a tiny slice of home for him.

The bell above the door rang out, ultimately stopping your conversation.  Junhui looked up at the customer now standing in his restaurant.  He shot you an apologetic look, to which you shook your head and shooed him away so he could take care of the woman.  

He greeted her as you began to stack the dishes up for him.  You gave a small wave as he was getting her seated.  He glanced at you and held up a finger, as if to ask you to hold on for a moment.  After the woman is settled in he jogs back to the room near the kitchen and comes back with his phone clutched in his hand.  

“Not to be weird,” he smiled sheepishly, “but could I maybe get your number? I’d like to continue talking to you.”           

Over the last week Junhui texted you a few times, mostly to send pictures of the cats.  Every so often the two of you would update each other on how things are going.  On one occasion Junhui requested you come retrieve leftovers from him on your day off so you had lunch for the following day.

You placed said leftovers in the microwave of the staff lounge, you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your scrubs as you set the time.  You were taking lunch later than usual today so you figured it was Junhui checking in on how the food reheated after he finished up the lunch rush.  The screen lit up with text messages and notifications as you pulled it out.  

Junhui: today sux 

Junhui: this guy just came in DURING A RUSH and screamed at me that there wasn’t a table

Junhui: i hope the congee tasted okay reheated 

Junhui: can’t talk more. people are the worst!! 😾

The microwave beeps, making you jump.  You opened the door and sighed, you knew that there were bound to be days where things got to be too much for him.  You were no stranger to bad days, even when you’re passionate about what you were doing.  It was one of those days when you met Junhui, you knew how he felt.

As soon as your shift was over you were flying out the door.  You wanted to make it to the convenience store on the corner before your bus came.  Your left shoe felt like it was coming untied but you didn’t stop to check, no time.  Filling your arms with jelly snacks, ramen, and a few drinks you made your way to the checkout.  

You made it to the bus stop with your haul as the bus was arriving.  Letting out a sigh of relief you paid your fare and found a spot to sit.   Feeling a buzz in your pocket you pull out your phone once more. 

Junhui: if i see another person today i might lose it 

Junhui: [Attachment: 1 Image]

You smiled at the picture, it was taken from the window of Junhui’s restaurant.  The neon sign is shut off and the blinds are drawn already.  Perfect, this meant that he was more than likely waiting for the bus already.  You could just grab him and drag him back inside.

Junhui was not at the bus stop.  You walk to the front door and turn the knob, it was unlocked.  His forehead was resting on the counter, he looked silly hunched over it like that.  He let out an annoyed groan hearing the bell above the door.  

“I’m closed,” he mumbled against the counter.  When he didn’t hear you leave he snapped his head up, “I said I–oh, hi.” His tone softened immediately when he saw you standing there with a plastic sack held out in front of you.  

“Hi,” you hazarded a few steps toward him, “is it safe? Or are you gonna bite my head off?” 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled airily, “it has been…a day.” 

“I know,” you nodded, “I come bearing gifts.” You hold up the sack again, as a peace offering.  He held out his hands, looking slightly childlike.        

“Show me the haul.” The two of you go through the small store bought feast in the bag.  Once he saw the cup ramen at the bottom he trotted to the kitchen to put some water on the stove to boil.  

You set aside two sets of chopsticks as Junhui plopped the noodles into the pot.  He told you all about the people he saw today and about while he was grateful for the business some people could just be so draining.  You agreed, you loved your job but some patients were just too much to handle at times.

You watched as he tore open the flavoring packets with his teeth.  He sprinkled it over the noodles in the pot, but you were still fixated on his full lips.  You know that Junhui is handsome, it’s hard to miss.  But should you have been staring so intently? Probably not, right?  

That was what you thought until he turned and held your gaze for several moments.  He seemed to be just as frozen as you were, his eyes flicked to your lips and for a second you swore he was going to kiss you.  

“Ramen’s done,” he said, barely above a whisper.   

The day had been uneventful.  Your job was monotonous and boring, and to make matters worse you hadn’t heard from Junhui in several days.  You still saw him smiling at you from the bus stop but he seemed like he had been avoiding having a real conversation with you since that day you thought he might kiss you.  

You watched the city speed by out the window of the bus and wondered if you had done something wrong.  Did you read him wrong? Maybe he didn’t like you at all, you’re just some weird person that showed up in his trash one day.  That day wasn’t all that different from today, it was snowing again.  You were surprised that there was this much time between the first and second snow this year.  

Your fingers wrapped around the cord as you alerted the driver that your stop was up next.  You gathered your things and prepared for the cold walk from your stop to your apartment.  Junhui was standing in front of the bus stop shelter, you knew it was him by his height and the way he shrank into himself to look at his phone.  The blue light caught his features in a way that made him look almost dreamlike.  The brakes on the bus squealed to a stop, making him look up from his phone.   

You expected him to brush you off with a smile, just as he had every day for the last week.  However, he just stood there, waiting, until the moment your feet hit the ground in front of him.  

“Happy second snow!” He beamed at you.  You smiled up at him, just happy that he was talking to you.  “I’m sorry about the other day.” 

“For what?” The bus stop was clearing out quickly, no one was worried about whatever reconciliation was happening between the two of you.  

“I didn’t kiss you when I should have.” He stated plainly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He moved closer to you and cupped your cold cheeks in his warm hands.  Soon his mouth was on yours and you felt so warm that it could easily have been summer.  He somehow made all of the ice melt away and it was just the two of you in the world for this moment.  You wrapped your arms around his waist in an effort to bring him closer.  

He broke away from you and searched your face, “Date me?” He breathed.  

“Date you?” You whispered, your breath turning into fog that he breathed in as he connected your lips to his once again.  This kiss was more urgent, like he was trying to convince you to say yes.  

“Yes, me.” He mumbled against your mouth, “please?” 

“Like right now?” You reach up to kiss him again.  He hummed into your kiss.  

“Like right now, tomorrow, for the rest of your life if you’ll have me,” he swept his tongue across your bottom lip, which made you shiver.  You accept his tongue into your mouth for only a second before he breaks away again.  “Was that too forward? I just really like you.” 

“No, it was cute.”  You assure him.  A blush crept across his cheeks, already pink from the cold. 

“Cool,” he grinned, “So?” 

“Oh sure,” you rolled your eyes, “but could we maybe date inside, I’m getting cold.” He grabbed your hand and tangled his fingers with yours.  He began to drag you back toward the restaurant where this all started.