our love to admire

mamihlapinatapei: the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start, for @rigorxmyn

He’s not sure why he wants to be so selfish when it comes to Junmyeon. It’s usually a feeling he can suppress, with much ease and without a second thought. But with him, he always wants to ask for more than he gives; ask Junmyeon to take a look a him too, before he takes a look somewhere else. It’s incredibly selfish of him to ask him to remain here, but it’s at the tip of his tongue and it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous because it would make Junmyeon unhappy, and even so, a small part of his heart wished he would just do that. 

(To just stay, with him here.) 

Somewhere in the corner of their small world here, in this very apartment that they both occupied, things had changed and only one of them ready for that conversation.

Mikoto looks for Junmyeon’s gaze, and when he meets it, all he does is watch. He looks at the way his lashes flicker, blinking a few times. In between the blinks, he watches his eyes look left, then right, then back at him again. He follows them, but they end up elsewhere, like the coffee cup besides them, or the half-open window behind him.

It’s not something Mikoto hadn’t known, but it is loud and clear with Junmyeon’s gaze. Their eyes weren’t looking at each other the same way: Mikoto watched the other with much intent and Junmyeon simply avoided it all. 

Mikoto is the one to end his agony. 

“I think, you should do it.” Mikoto says, all in one breath. 

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to tell him. But it feels right, in it’s own way, and when he looks at Junmyeon’s eyes, he’s more certain of it. 

“You should go.” This time, it’s with a smile. Mikoto tries his best to not make it so wistful; he tries to light the room with it even if it’s not at all how he feels. He’s been doing that more lately too, and so has Junmyeon. The lies keep piling up, even though they’re white and never mean to harm; they still take up space and will soon become something they can’t just look away from. 

“You said it yourself, it’s the next move for you.” His words aren’t faulting Junmyeon, or shifting the blame on him. Rather, it’s quite the opposite – it’s an attempt to assure him, and then re-assure him. It’s the only thing he can do here in this moment, for both Junmyeon, and for them both. Maybe they’d start something later, but the time wasn’t now. At least, not for Junmyeon. 

He says this like he is reassuring Mikoto that he’ll be ok out there by himself when in actuality he is self soothing, make it seem as if he knows what he is doing by faking self confidence. And sure in a way, he does know what he’s doing. Moving isn’t new to him because every few years it’s a new process of either moving to a new unit or to a new continent. Ironically, moving is the easy part for him. 

The hard part is the fact he hasn’t known what to feel since he received the acceptance email just a week ago. He reread it and despite his skepticism there’s one feeling he can’t hide try as he might: 

He does wants this. 

Joonmyun knows this and Mikoto can read him regardless of how carefully guarded he is.

“It’ll be the second step to achieving my childhood dream. I got the degree and if I can stick with this internship— then — oh, and then getting the required number of AXP hours will be a breeze and after I’ll be able to take the ARE (architect registration examination).” Joonmyun blinks. Oh, he’s talking too much with both his hands and his mouth again. To save face, he shrug and tries to keep a level head by looking at things from a business point of view. “It’s just the start of a new chapter, I guess.”

Really, he had sent the application in as a whim- an act done so he could tell Joel that yes, he was working towards finding internships. And no he isn’t planning on staying in Seoul forever. Even if he doesn’t get a callback he’ll stay until lease is up which is til the end of summer, sometime in August then he’ll move back to Margate. He’ll figure out where to go from there. Perhaps he’ll look up places with Brian over facetime later, he vaguely remembers his best friend mentioning that he was nearing the end of his own degree too. See Joel? Adulting isn’t that hard. Kiss the kids. Give Jina my love. I’m hanging up now.

But then the email came and that changed everything. It looks like he’ll be bypassing Margate altogether and heading straight to LA. It’s exciting. It’s terrifying. It’s not exactly new but it feels like it is. It’s bittersweet because when new doors open, old ones close and in this case... will he lose Mikoto in the process? And it’s at this thought that makes him look up and reconsider.

If he goes through with this, works towards getting his certification in America... that’s just it. “You know... essentially I’ll be stuck there for work, right?” Joonmyun says to Mikoto as he stares at him like he can find the answers to all his problems in his brown eyes. But it’s a valid point of concern: if he moves away then where does that leave room for Mikoto? Could he move with him? What about Mikoto’s own field of study? No, he can’t even put a label on whatever is going on between them much less ask Mikoto to come with him when Mikoto has worked this hard already. 

“Are you headed to sleep?” 

It’s become their morning greeting of some kind, as Mikoto begins his day only for Junmyeon to come to close his. 

“Mmm… hm?” 

Junmyeon lifts his head, gesturing for Mikoto to repeat his words again. Instead of doing so, he lets Junmyeon’s mind catch up, already knowing he’d process it better not hearing a second time. “Yeah, I’m going to now…” Junmyeon’s voice fades. 

Mikoto can tell he’s quite tired, because Junmyeon’s the one to lock eyes with him. Their gazes hold for a full minute, before a laugh steals him, and it ends up being Mikoto to break. Before the other can get any further, Mikoto slips an arm beneath Junmyeon’s legs, lifting him up too easily – the motion habitual to the both of them, a little too much. 

“Let me walk…” Junmyeon says, while his arms do the exact opposite. They wrap around Mikoto’s neck, once again, habitually. 

“If I do, you won’t brush your teeth before you crawl into bed, Tom.” He’s not sure when hyung had turned into Junmyeon and Junmyeon had slipped to become Tom. But everything felt easy, and everything came easily that he rarely needed to second guess anything; at least here, in the space of their own. “I won’t make you shower, so let’s just brush our teeth.” 

Junmyeon mumbles something under his breath and Mikoto pretends not to hear it, even though it colors his ears red for a passing moment. 

He seats Junmyeon at the toilet seat, before squeezing toothpaste onto the toothbrush. He kneels to get to the other’s level, his thumb gently opening Junmyeon’s mouth and immediately laughing at the strong smell of caffeine. “I thought we promised our dentist that we were going to try to be better on our enamel…” Mikoto’s words are chastising but his tone is warm, trained in the voice he only used with Junmyeon. 

Soon enough he’s bringing them to Junmyeon’s room, placing the other into the bed. “Good morning, and sleep well, Tom.” Midnight’s already making home next to him, as she buries herself into Junmyeon’s side. Midnight and Mikoto exchange glances. Their conversation is short, and Mikoto decides to fall back. He loses to her every time, and this too, is habit.

( Usually.)

Brian, his best friend, will gladly attest to this claim and recount stories of their junior high years back in Margate. And often, on multiple occasions, makes the claim that Joonmyun is the one who set is biological clock to better suit his schedule and he hasn’t been able to break from it since. Joonmyun will counter that Brian is an early bird because his parents own a cafe bookstore that opens 6 AM on the dot Monday - Saturday in order to carter to those who get up early to drive out to neighbor cities for work, school or other means.

Regardless, it’s how he’s wired for whatever reason.

He’s always been this way. As young kids in obscure corners of numerous continents while their parents dug for ancient artifacts at the first sign of light Joonmyun was being pestered, shaken, pinched, and poked at by his older and persistent brother until he begrudgingly got up. Joel, ever the optimist refused to let the day go to waste when there was so much to experience back before the days his work and kids made him understand that staying in bed was in fact a luxury — the catch was Joel’s practically none existent sense of direction and that’s where Joonmyun came in. And some days, sleepy eyed as he spread out a map and Joel did research on the area of newfound interest it was hard to be mad when there’s so much promise in the upcoming day.

And that optimism carried over to a place as quiet and mundane as Margate even after Joel moved on to college, or his parents were busy at the museum in Atlantic city or elsewhere, and even when Brian would be busy counting out change behind the counter at his parents shop. Sleeping in simply wasn’t an option when adventure awaited in his own backyard.

Fast forward several years and to their shared apartment college days. This is why more often than not Mikoto would wake up to his housemate either punching in buttons on the coffee maker or sat hunched over, cutting shapes out of cardboard to assemble scale models of structures he’d could only dream one day would be more than just paper and discounted glue.

Most days, it’s impossible to tell if Joonmyun had been asleep at all.

On other days, he’s already gone by the time Mikoto gets up but there’s remnants of himself scattered throughout the apartment. Abandoned pencils and pens, empty cat food tins on the kitchen counter, charcoal vine that gets crushed under Mikoto’s shoes and even the empty space where Joonmyun’s favorite jacket usually hangs tells a story of its own.

Yes, even now old habits don’t change. Blame it on his biological clock or his upbringing but whatever it is refuses to shut off and give him peace of mind and so he stirs, turning over slowly in the bed. His hand feels around for his phone while slowly coming into consciousness. The phone reads 6:01 AM. He’s only been asleep for roughly two and a half hours and in that short increment of time that it takes for the phone to turn black he’s already gone through a mental checklist of things that need to be done. Acting on habit, he moves to get up but there’s a shift and that’s when he remembers— Mikoto.

Actually, the shift he felts was Midnight who stretches and yawns before jumping over Joonmyun’s side to go curl up against Mikoto’s chest, rubs her head underneath his chin and purrs at him loudly then goes back to sleep. The whole scene makes Joonmyun tsk in disbelief and murmurs about how disloyal his own pet is though he does so with a small smiling pulling at his lips. 

Midnight may start off on his side of the bed but by the time he wakes up, Midnight usually has switched sides at some point in the night to sleep with Mikoto instead. The fact even his cat secretly favors his boyfriend makes Joonmyun wonder if he should be concerned about this unspoken competition given he remembers the days Midnight would hide from Mikoto or swat at his ankles in retaliation for bringing not one, but two dogs into her home. Though he suspects the main reason for Midnight’s change is because Midnight and Mikoto both share the common interest of sleeping in. And let’s face it. Mikoto is warm.

The sheer fact that he gets to wake up to Mikoto is concrete proof he hasn’t dreamt up the past two years and that in and of itself is an adjustment but he’s been given this right and trusts him enough to share this space. And in return he’s allowed to brush the hair away from his eyes or kiss him before the morning sun or Jina or Joel or whatever else gets to steal them away from one another.

la douleur exquise: The exquisite pain of wanting the affection of someone you know you can never have.

wanderlust: A strong desire for or impulse to wander or travel and explore the world.

dēsīderium: An ardent desire of longing, particularly for something once had; grief for the absence of loss of something or someone.

pikit mata: 'with eyes closed’; how you accepted the fact of something against your desires must be done.

sigurista: Someone who makes sure that everything goes as planned; the kind of person who will not act unless he totally feels sure that the desired result would be obtained.

velleity: A wish or desire to see something done, but nit enough will to make it happen or actions meant to pursue it.

sehnsucht: 'the inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what’; a high degree of intense, recurring, and often painful desire for something, particularly if there’s no hope to attain the desired or when its attainment is uncertain, still far away.

koi no yokan: 'premonition of love’; the sense one can get upon first meeting another person that the two of them are going to falling love. This differs from the idea 'love at first sight’ in that it does not imply that the feeling of love exists, rather refers to the knowledge that a future love is possible.

meraki: to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself into your work.

mamihlapinatapei: the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start.

forelsket: the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

geborgenheit: to feel completely safe, like nothing could ever harm you; security, comfort, trust, satisfaction, acceptance and love from others.

ya’aburnee: 'you bury me’; a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

augenblick: 'in the blink of an eye’; a 'decisive moment’ in time that is fleeting, yet momentously eventful and incredibly significant.

herzschmerz: heartache; an emotional pain in the heart.

retrouvailles: the happiness of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation.

einfühlungsvermögen: a deep understanding of someone’s feelings, thoughts and motives that are easily comprehended by yourself.

serendipity: the luck that takes the form of discovering valuable or pleasant things that are not looked for or while looking for something else.

ichigo ichie: 'one time, one meeting’; and encounter that only happens once in a lifetime, reminding to treasure every moment, for it will never recur.

saudade: a deep, nostalgic, and melancholic longing for something or someone, often accompanied with denied fact that what one longs for will never come back.

cwtch: a warm, affectionate hug, cuddle or snuggle that gives a feeling of a safe place or home.

kilig: the delightful feeling that sends shivers of pleasure down the spine as one encounters something romantic.

liefdesverdriet: the sadness, depression or pain one feels about a love unanswered or love that is gone.

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

pluviphile: a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.

kalverliefde: the temporary affection and infatuation usually experienced by two people in love.

torpe: the-quality of, usually a young male, being to shy to pursue amorous desires to someone adored.

mélomanie: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.

nyctophilia: love of darkness or night; finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness.

yuánfèn: a relationship brought by fate or destiny; the binding force which eventually links two people together in love.

lǎotóng: 'old same’; a form of eternal friendship between “heart sisters” – two women who are closer than husband and wife.

b'shert: 'destiny’; the seeking if a person who will complement you, and whom you will complement perfectly.

oodal: the sulking or fake anger occurring between couple after a lovers tiff, usually over something inconsequential – a feeling recognized to be a facet of love or affection.

vuslat: a union or reunion after being apart for a long time with one’s beloved.

pacalai: 'lovesick pallor’; the pale complexion of a women suffering the loss of or separation from her husband or lover.

redamancy: a love returned in full; the act of loving the one who loves you.

thuong: to love tenderly – a deep and sincere notion of fondness and care between family members, friends, or lovers.

amor vincit omnia: 'love conquers all’

kaiho: a hopeless longing – an involuntary solitude in which one feels incompleteness and yearns for something unattainable or extremely difficult and tedious to attain.

euneirophrenia: a peace of mind that comes from having pleasant dreams.

boketto: to gaze vacantly into the distance without thinking or doing anything.

luchtkasteel: 'air castle’; a wish or dream one hopes to fulfill in the future, yet will never be achieved, as it is so vast, immense and unlikely.

gumusservi: the light of the moon as it shines upon the water.

aamukaste: morning dew.

murr-ma: to walk along in the water searching for something with your feet.

tükörsima: 'as smooth as the-surface of the mirror’; describes a still water which has unbroken surface, neither by wind nor by some object or animal.

aranyhíd: 'golden bridge’; the reflection of the sun as it shines upon the water.

walwalün: the sound that a flowing water makes.

ruska: the phenomenon of leaves turning various shades of red, yellow, purple and brown during the autumn season.

psithurism: the sound of the leaves rustling as the wind blows through the trees.

şafak: the first skylight seen during dawn or just before the sun rise.

yeoubi: 'fox rain’; a sun shower – the event of having a light rain while the sun is still shinning.

“Are you headed to sleep?” 

It’s become their morning greeting of some kind, as Mikoto begins his day only for Junmyeon to come to close his. 

“Mmm… hm?” 

Junmyeon lifts his head, gesturing for Mikoto to repeat his words again. Instead of doing so, he lets Junmyeon’s mind catch up, already knowing he’d process it better not hearing a second time. “Yeah, I’m going to now…” Junmyeon’s voice fades. 

Mikoto can tell he’s quite tired, because Junmyeon’s the one to lock eyes with him. Their gazes hold for a full minute, before a laugh steals him, and it ends up being Mikoto to break. Before the other can get any further, Mikoto slips an arm beneath Junmyeon’s legs, lifting him up too easily – the motion habitual to the both of them, a little too much. 

“Let me walk…” Junmyeon says, while his arms do the exact opposite. They wrap around Mikoto’s neck, once again, habitually. 

“If I do, you won’t brush your teeth before you crawl into bed, Tom.” He’s not sure when hyung had turned into Junmyeon and Junmyeon had slipped to become Tom. But everything felt easy, and everything came easily that he rarely needed to second guess anything; at least here, in the space of their own. “I won’t make you shower, so let’s just brush our teeth.” 

Junmyeon mumbles something under his breath and Mikoto pretends not to hear it, even though it colors his ears red for a passing moment. 

He seats Junmyeon at the toilet seat, before squeezing toothpaste onto the toothbrush. He kneels to get to the other’s level, his thumb gently opening Junmyeon’s mouth and immediately laughing at the strong smell of caffeine. “I thought we promised our dentist that we were going to try to be better on our enamel…” Mikoto’s words are chastising but his tone is warm, trained in the voice he only used with Junmyeon. 

Soon enough he’s bringing them to Junmyeon’s room, placing the other into the bed. “Good morning, and sleep well, Tom.” Midnight’s already making home next to him, as she buries herself into Junmyeon’s side. Midnight and Mikoto exchange glances. Their conversation is short, and Mikoto decides to fall back. He loses to her every time, and this too, is habit.

ourlovetomadmire91: Is film not fascinating, vexing and strangely unorthodox? I went by the studio of an old friend roughly a month ago to snap a few portraits for his series documenting social distancing. They turned out well, Nathan. 

“Minhyung’s band is going to be in town again, and I was wondering if it’d be fun to go out this weekend, either on Friday or Saturday – whichever is better for you, and of course, if and only if you want to – to go out and support them? And listen to some good music. I know you really liked them the last time when we listened to them. Is Friday… or Saturday a better day, do you think?” 

“Yeah.” 

Somewhere amidst the conversation, he loses him. His mouth is speaking, but his words aren’t really responding. His eyes are trained towards him, but they aren’t truly looking at him. His body sits across from him, but it’s not quite occupying any meaningful space, just the lack-thereof.  

“You were on the balcony again last night.” He holds a breath until it turns into a sigh, and it catches Junmyeon’s attention. “This… morning.” Junmyeon stares at his lips like he can’t hear his words and instead, makes them out from the shape of his mouth, as if he’s forgotten how to make conversation. 

But this has never been about the conversations; not about what they entail, and certain not about what they mean. 

“That… wasn’t a dream, was it.” 

It’s the same dream each time. 

He wakes up and checks the hour, and like clockwork, the bed always empties two minutes before three A.M. It’s dangerous, but it’s already become a pattern, and Junmyeon’s vacancy is something he’s habitualized, to the point where Junmyeon’s occupancy was the anomaly. Mikoto forces himself up, feet hanging off the edge of the bed as he notices the light coming from the kitchen, as usual. He follows it out the room, taking a seat on the only stool that provides him a view of the balcony, where sees Junmyeon standing. 

He observes him for a while. 

He notices the way he stands like he converses: not quite here but not quite there. He notes how much his standing seems like being in motion, running to flee himself, but only to run into himself on the other side. 

Mikoto boils a pot of water, and makes a cup of tea. He walks towards the balcony, and with every step, he realizes why he has never taken the steps each night at three in the morning, and instead only observed. Each step proves his fear of becoming a home of something he will never be able to fathom. 

“Hyung.” He makes his presence known with his voice, but Junmyeon still does not allow him to exist in his space yet. “Junmyeon.” His voice still translates his fright, but he holds onto the sounds, making them his own. He places the cup down onto the tall table besides them, carefully taking a few steps towards him. “Junmyeon… hyung.” He calls out to him again, and this time he earns a response. Junmyeon’s words are murmurs, and he has to kill his breaths to hear them, leaning in much closer to do so. 

“…nothing seems to matter, and… at the same time, everything seems to matter too much.” 

The words lull over his head and linger in the air. He lets them sit upon his skin, but even then, he does not quite understand their true meaning. His mind begins to stir until he stops it purposefully, now knowing too well that he should not wish first to understand, as depression does not tolerate reason.

“I can’t forget, and I can’t forgive, and I… certainly can’t decide which is worse.”

Junmyeon continues, and all Mikoto does is come forth closer. He slips his arms underneath, wrapping them around Junmyeon’s sides from behind. He places his chin on top of his head, pulling Junmyeon close until nothing else can possibly fit in between them. 

19: my muse surprises yours with flowers.

If Tohoku is the home he’s left, anywhere Junmyeon’s occupied have been the homes he’s made, and all of a sudden, the physics behind collisions seems much more complicated than just purely impulse and momentum. 

“Ah… shoot.” Mikoto’s own bit of momentum quickens, although his body is never as fast as his heart wants it to be. “Close your eyes.” Before he moves, he places a single palm over Junmyeon’s eyes. “Do you hear that?”

His eyes close following Junmyeon’s. The only sound that surrounds them at first is the flowing water beneath them, and the wind coming in between them, wherever they leave space for it. Although Junmyeon doesn’t say it, another minute passes and he senses his frustration. 

“The water. It’s stronger somewhere, and weaker elsewhere. Can you hear it?” His voice lowers, letting the water overpower him. 

His voice no longer guides Junmyeon, and instead, it’s the streams beneath them. After he’s sure Junmyeon has heard it, he slips a hand into his, beginning to move to the source of the sound. His feet carry him ten or so meters from where they original stood, moving into one of the plowed rows before inspecting. 

“Mmhm. Just as I had expected… there’s a leak here.” He turns to Junmyeon who stands aloof still on solid ground, immediately gesturing him over. His hands make three entire circles before Junmyeon’s feet give up, plundering into the muddy soil instead. “The rodents… make holes sometimes.” Mikoto’s feet step on the diverged path of dirt, reforming it into a straight line until the water no longer ebbs out from it’s single stream. “You have to step on them to guide the water back to their path, or there could be a handful of rows that won’t ever get water to run through them.”

The next time he grabs for Junmyeon’s hand, he meets his eyes, with a sunkissed smile. “Tohoku people say rice plants grow from the sound of people’s foot steps.” 

They’re half way back to the house when the silence becomes too loud. Junmyeon’s legs begin to slow like they’re caught by the tall grass, and their feet no longer match up in rhythm, now far out of sync. 

“Your mother is still uncomfortable with me being here.” Junmyeon’s hand drops his, and his feet quickly move forward three or four steps so it can’t be caught a second time. “It’s especially hard at the dinner table…” Mikoto catches up anyway, but he doesn’t grab at his hand, and lets them both exist in their respect space. “Do you think maybe this was a little too sudden? Maybe we should have waited a few months more… maybe I should have come during the spring festival instead.” 

Junmyeon begins to ramble and Mikoto’s sure of where this ends. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come to begin with.” 

He completes his thought, and Junmyeon looks to him, clearly in surprise. His lips open, then close, and open again, and repeat the pattern. He never finds the right response, and it’s MIkoto that interjects, completely out of character.

“Hyung, when I asked you to accompany me to come see my mother, it wasn’t a light request.” His words are heavier than the two of them are ready for, or more likely, for Junmyeon’s hands to carry. “This… won’t ever be any easier during the winter, nor even in the spring.”

“It doesn’t get any easier.”

It’s something they both know, but there is something about verbalizing the fact. He speaks it to them because it somehow seems more tangible this way, like something they can reach for and call it theirs.

“And I’m sorry it is, I really am.” His voice falls faster than his will, crumbling quieter until the water is once again louder. The ground beneath him reminds him to stand, and their eyes catch each other’s once more. “I’m sorry it isn’t any easier.”

The wind cuts between them, and Junmyeon takes it as a cue to take a few more steps ahead. He disappears off somewhere, and Mikoto decides it’s best to let him do so.

Mikoto finds him by the river stream from the night before, under the tree he’s shown Junmyeon. He’s not sure how many minutes have passed, or if it’s more so hours. He approaches him from behind, slowly but surely, and takes a seat besides him. And because Junmyeon doesn’t know how to start it, Mikoto does, offering him the lotus in his hands. He places it onto Junmyeon’s palm, where it sits, until Junmyeon moves it around in the sunlight bleeding through between the shade made by the leaves of the tree above them. 

“I found them growing on the walk up the hill.” He hears Junmyeon breathe, and exhales in tempo after it. He aligns their breaths, before he moves in a bit closer, his face near Junmyeon’s. “It means, ‘I think of you all the time, even when we’re apart.’”

This time, Junmyeon lowers his head. He coughs, choking on nothing, clearly taken back by his words. Before Junmyeon’s thoughts can start running again, he brings them back, with a laugh instead.  “I actually don’t know what it means, hyung. If it means anything, I’m sure it’s not that.” 

He gives Junmyeon his space, staring out at the stream with him instead. A moment later, Junmyeon laughs, and the flower kept on his palm moves with him, as well as the leaves above him. Junmyeon gets up, placing a firm kiss onto his lips.  When he gets close enough, their chests press together. He hears their heartbeats align, and smiles into the kiss instead. 

“Thank you.” 

He watches Junmyeon here, surrounded by the green and the fields that could never encompass him enough. He rethinks about the numbers behind collisions, formulas running through his head whenever he continues to ponder. 

“I was waiting… for you to tell me.” Perhaps he’s supposed to say more than this, on top of everything else that he feels he has done in the wrong. “I thought it would be best to wait for you to tell me.” 

He doesn’t quite remember where this starts, and more so, where it ends.

“So you didn’t say anything even while knowing, this whole time.” His voice is cold and hot all at once. “You didn’t bother to bring it up even once, and pretended like you were in the unknown… this whole time.” It’s strange because he’s never seen Junmyeon like this: on the offense and openly a mess. “God, Mikoto. You… you… you are just so…” Junmyeon’s hands lift, and disappear into his hair – an attempt to still them, and do away with their shaking. 

Even now, Mikoto takes in the way the beer from last night still has his cheeks colored in a flush pink, and the way the sunlight seems to hit him, even if Junmyeon’s never been one for the sun.

“You are unbelievable.” 

The words spit out of Junmyeon, and his hands fall back to his side. His frowning lips continue on, tongue hitting the roof of his mouth to click on without a single thought in between each syllable. “You’re an idiot. You’ve got your head in the books but you really just are so… so stupid.” His words are all impulsive just like anything Junmyeon does, and even now, Mikoto can’t help his fondness over him, and the bluntness in his speech. 

“So you knew I cheated on us and you just sat here, knowing it all and not saying a single thing.”

He holds a breath, and knows Junmyeon lets out one in turn. His chest rises and Junmyeon’s falls, completely out of sync and not willing to even meet in the middle.

“Say something. Don’t just sit there like an idiot, Mikoto, please –” He no longer holds their gazes together, only because it’s difficult to watch Junmyeon when he’s at this state. “You’re always… like this. I don’t know what you’re ever thinking.” Even without lifting his head, he knows Junmyeon’s eyes hold that look, the one withholding the tears, withholding his frustration.

“Okay.” 

This time Junmyeon’s the one with his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat, and he’s the one with the excuse of an exhale. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s just not talk about it. Maybe that’ll be better. Talking is rarely… no. Talking is never, any good for anyone involved.” 

He parts his lips with much difficulty, but only manages a single sound. “Hyung, –” 

“Okay.” Junmyeon hides his face, behind anything he can. His hands shield him from Mikoto, and his arms surround him to protect his body. “Okay, Mikoto. Let’s… let’s stop for today, it’s only one in the afternoon after all.” 

Although there are only three and something meters in separating them, Junmyeon feels far and elsewhere, not quite here and yet not quite anywhere he can reach. The distance between them is suddenly too vast and like many another nights, he finds himself at a loss on how to retrace his steps back to him.

There’s too much silence between them. And yet, there’s too much absent between them, and he knows this shouldn’t be the way things should be.

“Alright.” 

But knowing is different than doing, and he knows better than to speak in the now.

Junmyeon fully turns his back on him, but he knows there are tears on his cheeks, and he’s only regretful he doesn’t have the courage to walk to him to swipe them elsewhere. 

It’s his last act of bravery when he reaches out, verbally so. “…hyung?” 

Junmyeon attempts to collect himself, hands fumbling over his face. Mikoto observes the glistening drops rolling down his wrist. “Yeah.”

“Don’t stand over there. The sunlight’s… really strong today. Even if… we’re going to fight, can you stand over here and do it?” He doesn’t get a response, but he watches Junmyeon’s shoulders drop, as if no longer putting up a front.

Joonmyun walks with his hands in his pocket — silent lost in his thoughts, Mikoto is near him and that’s the odd thing he can’t remember the last time they didn’t hold hands while out together and yet he can’t seem to work up the courage to reach out, not after yesterday when all he can do is reply things he said or think of how can he possibly begin to apologies for what he did.  

Opening the door to the restaurant he lets Mikoto go first then follows in after, it’s not too busy this morning and they’re immediately seated in a booth behind another couple who seem to have their own share of problems. Joonmyun orders, though slightly distracted he gives back the menu then looks past Mikoto who curiously turns to see what Joonmyun is looking at.

Neither say anything after he turns back then they both resume to silence at the their table. Still, Joonmyun can’t help but to ease-drop on the conversation going on behind the couple, though he acts as if he isn’t by mindlessly scrolling through his phone. 

When the waitress drops off their food he sits back, looking over the plate of pancakes he doesn’t remember ordering and the coffee he does remember. 

“TOM.” 

Both him and Mikoto look up at the sound of his name, watching as the other Tom storms out of the restaurant and the girl is left alone. And in a way, he realizes, that he and Mikoto are fighting too in their own way, though the opposite by leaving things unsaid and neither willing to say what’s on their mind. 

Sitting back, tries his courage over again. Still he can’t meet Mikoto’s eyes straight on, he looks at the plate of pancakes thinking of how he isn’t certain why he does this, shut of when he’s the one that did the yelling and he’s the one that says things that he doesn’t mean.

Joonmyun sets his phone down and before he can move his hand toward the coffee Mikoto rests his ontop of his. He observes the way Mikoto’s hand fits naturally on his and it would be so easy to just forget and pretend but instead Joonmyun swallows thickly before he pull his hand away and instead grabs it and holds his palm against his cheek.