MOVED

       There was something wrong with him, to excuse such actions if it meant laying by his side at night, to be the only exception to Sangwoo.

     ❝ Two– ? I haven’t kept track—–❞ Absent-mindedly he rubbed the bandaged area around his face and throat. It was a warning of what would happen to him if he continued to disobey– and it wasn’t something so easy to forget.      ❝ I’m glad– I was worried it wouldn’t taste as good, I’ll keep it in mind for next time. ❞ He sat quietly for a few more moments before lowering his hand once more and letting his dark eyes wander around the kitchen– the uncomforting silence making it hard for him to think of what to say.

   what a creep. to find comfort in something as simple as to telling him he hadn’t completely screwed over this time. something about the way he smiled, unnerving a part of the blond that buried deep into his core. it reminded him of hers, never joyful, but pitiful. the more he grew to resent that woman, the more he saw what others said about her. she wasn’t quite sense & perhaps, she never was. the way bum looked away reminded sangwoo of that—moments lost in her delusion resulting in him staring until something drew her back to reality. or in his case, someone.

      A shaky sigh left him as he stared at his untouched food once more, before reaching out and grabbing his spoon, taking a bite– it’d be better to have some strength in him if he were to be beaten for his stupidity.

      ❝ Right– What was I thinking ? You have no reason to trust me, ❞ Picking at the contents in his bowl a bit longer he gave out a soft, nervous laugh before pulling away and rubbing his eyes.      ❝ Does it taste good ? I haven’t made this kind of stuff without my grandmother, so– it might not be the best. ❞

    it wasn’t so much a matter of trust as it was of fear—one that was rooted from an abandonment he did not want to go through, again. because sangwoo wasn’t alone throughout his life, even if it felt so at times. both of his parents were everything he knew of for a while. he didn’t even remember of any relatives, as he hadn’t seen them over ten years now. with them living in this house, he felt alone, but without them, he never was. her voice calling his name as if taunting him for what had happened. if the other were to leave, there would be no other voice to drown her screams.

    “—mmm... at least you’re aware of that. i mean, it’s been, what? two times now? it would look real bad on me if there was a third one & i didn’t kill you.” his threats weren’t empty, after all, but they never got that far. even when he wanted to. something within him stopped him from clutching his hands around that frail neck until he was no longer breathing. perhaps, it was his mother’s image that flashed through his eyes, or the though that he’d become his father, enough to terrify him & let go. sangwoo didn’t want to get to that point; didn’t want his hand to be forced just because the other wouldn’t listen.

There it was again, she thought to herself, a crude way of speech that lacked in fondness when reffering to his father. It did make her wonder perhaps more than the dubious circumstances of the man’s death did…just what sort of relationship was it that Sangwoo had with his father? For him to come all the way into a snowy mountain to visit the spot of his death, yet still act so curtly towards the memory, the existence of conflicted feelings was obvious — she would not ask about it of course, nor did she have interest in doing so, Chiri wouldn’t want to be asked the same thing if it were her. Simply holding still onto the other’s hand, she walked alongside him without hesitation.

A hum through pursed lips, slightly curled into a melancholic smile of sorts. The sound of running water could’ve drowned the sound of her voice, so softly spoken then. “It is quite shameless, isn’t it? Doesn’t it make you wonder if those who choose to die that way also just want one final shot at getting attention? Or maybe make others feel guilty? — I knew someone just like that…he’d want to hang himself for every little thing, such a hopeless man…” A man she had loved so oh dearly, not in spite of that hopelessness, but because of it. That realization, made her cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry, I should not be talking about another man when on a date, that’s incredibly rude of me.” She said, scolding herself.

    or a display of shame, he thought. just like his mother would’ve wanted it, but the one tying the noose wasn’t her, but him. the one responsible for his father’s death, was no one other than sangwoo. right? right. or at least, that’s what he believed to be the case. the memory still hazy even if it hadn’t been that long ago. looking up at a tree, he could almost see it as if it was right there with his feet dangling above ground as the two continued to venture deeper into the forest.

    it didn’t matter. none of it did. a dead body was nothing but that: a dead body. the circumstances of their death were irrelevant putting all those things aside. if there was something to deem shameless, it was the life that was lived prior to that. bottles being thrown & shattering against the ground. loud yelling while his mother called his name for help. sangwoo felt disgust at the mere thought, barely paying attention to what she was saying until she began to apologize & head turned her way.

      ❝ You have  really nice singing voice, y’know– do you think maybe you could sing for me sometime— maybe when we’re going to bed or um—❞ He paused, playing with his hands nervously in his lap before meeting Sangwoo’s gaze.     ❝ Do you think we could go out more ? Together ?❞

    if he was trying to be sly with the change of topic, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. however, sangwoo was growing irritated by the second. the longer he stared at that face, he could his energy be drained away just like that. it was tedious sometimes. most of the time, that it begged to question why he even put up with someone as frustrating as bum is. the way that he choked on his own words or fidgeted nervously, enough to make him want to get up & tug at his hair, telling him to get a grip. sometimes, he made it nearly impossible to stand, but as his eyes glanced downwards onto his plate, the blond was reminded as to he had allowed him to live this long. for a moment, it wasn’t bum the one sitting across the table, but his mother. those vacant eyes staring back at her before her image was gone with a blink. sigh leaving his lips as he continued to eat.

Chiri brought her free hand to the front of her mouth, where she huffed some hot air in attempts to make her face, raw and flushed by the frosty air, heat up a little. She listened carefully meanwhile, of course, and the comment from the other made her brows arch curiously. One could think, a woman like her was desensitized to gruesome things, but in truth, there was just never a point where she had any sensitization at all to begin with. “Your father? So, it was like that…” But, had he not been murdered? She thought to herself, wondering why of all things, his father would be found hanging like that, unless…did the killer try to make it look like a suicide? Clever. Her heart, however, fluttered with a sence of nostalgic fondeness, for the image of a hanged man, swinging from a tree branch trying to end his life, was one she associated with someone she loved.  

She continued, ignoring that flutter. A sigh through her lips, and a tilt of the head as her gaze wandered around the snowy landscape again. “This place doesn’t sound too different to a forest back home, people go there to end their lives, there is so much myth behind it, so of course it’s become more of a tourist attraction more than anything…rather ironic, yet not surprising.”

        “—makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” the memory of that rainy night had been buried six feet under, just like that man. his mind, twisting what led to all that. everything that happened in between, nothing but a blur. there were some days he claimed innocence, while others, sangwoo was convinced that what happened to his father had been his doing. his hands were stained with blood far before he lost it & took down the first girl. once he had crossed that line, there was no going back.

         his shift in attention to his phone didn’t seem to bother her; it broke up some of the tension that her question had stirred up, and in a way, the distraction was welcomed. his teasing tone further eased up some of her stiffness, though at his question, her brow furrowed. “haunted?” she repeats, her expression rather incredulous. “is your house haunted? is that why you’re asking?”

         she couldn’t tell how serious he was despite his tone. some people really did enjoy the paranormal after all, and it wasn’t like they really talked about this kind of stuff for her to really find out if it was one of his interests. “mm, i get the feeling you’re trying to scare me.” which honestly, worked. or at the very least, made her think twice. “i’m not really into that spooky shit. i don’t know if i really want to take any any chances if you’re being serious.”

    well, ‘haunted’ was a way of putting it—omitting the fact that it only seemed to occur for him. the oppressing feeling that that place possessed hadn’t been mentioned by any other, but whether that was out of politeness or not, remained unclear. the voices he heard, the constant shouting of his name, only existed when he was on his own & his mind had no other ways to distract himself. he briefly wondered if she would hear it too.

  “—oh yeah, hadn’t i mentioned it?” sangwoo feigned ignorance. his tone, too light, too playful to indicate there was no possibility that he was joking. especially with the way his lips curled upon seeing her reaction. he leaned his head against his palm & smile. although his eyes told a different story.

       ❝ Uh– I mean–❞ Biting his lip in worrisome manner, he looked down once more– dark locks shifting more in his face while his delicate hands fumbled over another in his lap, anxiously.      ❝ I’m just not sure you’d be so interested hearing about my family life– it’s kind of pathetic.❞

    how irritating. just when he believed they were taking a step into the right direction, it shifted almost abruptly, leaving him testing his patience as he had to listen to the jumble coming from the other’s mouth. his thumb pressed against the handle of his spoon, adding pressure into it as he tried to keep himself from snapping. better the utensil than bum, who would only make him more frustrated after lashing at him. how could someone press all the wrong buttons each time?

     It was the question he’d been avoiding that made Yoon Bum tense up, stiffing his hold on his utensil before dropping it, a loud clank as metal met porcelain making Bum flinch– a muttered apology left his hollowed self before pushing the bowl away from him.

     ❝ He probably believed so since a young age– my grandmother too.❞ A sick feeling formed in the pit of his stomach– he felt dirty, disgusting. No matter how much scrubbing he could do would wash away this filth, so why couldn’t he accept it.      ❝ I don’t like this, can we talk about something else ? ❞

     there it was again—whenever he tried to get bum to speak, to tell him more about his life at home & what led him here, he shut down. the loud clank that his utensil made against the porcelain, making sangwoo glance down to the table to see if any of the food had spilled as a consequence of it. the other was fortunate that it didn’t, because sangwoo’s irritability was starting to grow. a long, sharp sigh being let out from parted lips.

“I wouldn’t say scary, it’s more like…thrilling.” Answering truthfully, her mind couldn’t helpt conjuring those images from the news of blood dying the white snow, vibrant red coagulated like a crust, still clinging to the rotten remains – to be the one to find those corpses, surely that would’ve been quite interesting, like a trasure hunt even. As they walked, in spite of the image she projected of feminity and graceful pose, her step was firm, heavy and sturdy, a perfectly capable hiker as she has promised to be. Branches, leaves and maybe other things cracked and crunched underneath her feet. “I don’t think it’s too different than walking through historical landmarks, you know? Blood being spilled is just part of history, it’s kind of romantic…but I don’t suppose that’s what you had in mind, did you?”  

    there was no doubt she had a peculiar way of looking things. out of all the ways that there were to describe it, romantic wasn’t among the top. anyone else would’ve looked at him with confusion, fear or wonder as to why he would bring up such gruesome thought in what was supposed to be a romantic getaway, but her lack of reaction only proved one thing, & that was getting used to his antics. it wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last he did or say something that was beyond questionable, but either she had too much faith he wouldn’t turn out to be a monster that would take advantage of her, or didn’t care regardless. would she still feel her heart flutter if his hands were wrapped around her neck? the blond wondered. a small smile forming upon his lips as he turned briefly to look at her. their breaths, almost visible by the cold.

      ❝ She was– yeah. She’d come to the police station with my uncle sometimes, or the hospital. Usually it was my uncle, though. ❞ Stirring the contents in the bowl, Bum remained expressionless– the numb feeling he had for them now– he wondered if they even cared he’d gone missing. Probably not, no one did.

     ❝ I don’t know if she intended for me to be… someone’s ‘wife’. I guess she felt bad for me being so useless– and hoped with some kind of skills I wouldn’t be…❞ In a situation such as this. It didn’t matter, though– not anymore. The kindness from Sangwoo made all the pain he endured worth it in the end– he was safer here than he’d ever be back with his uncle.

   with every answer, came more questions. at this point, he shouldn’t even be surprised upon hearing the words ‘police station’ or ‘hospital’ as if they were part of his day-to-day life before ending here. he could’ve asked, but didn’t. not when he had seen first hand the possible reasons for that. the cuts across his wrists & the fact that he was sitting across of sangwoo, after breaking into his house, giving him an idea as to how his life used to be.

     “—& they didn’t lock you somewhere? it’s clear something’s not right with you.” the irony wasn’t lost on him, but at least sangwoo would pretend to be someone decent outside of these walls—perfecting the mask he wore in the presence of those who knew him, with only bum seeing what rest underneath & lived to be able to tell. not like he’d let go of him any soon, though.

     The sweet memories of cooking with his grandmother gave temporary happiness, as he stared quietly at the table for a moment, almost uncertain if it was better just telling him more of his life before him. He had so many questions he wanted to ask the taller figure, but always feared the outcome. Eventually, he decided it had been best to say, as it wasn’t as terrible as the other things from his past.     ❝ —— My grandmother and I would always cook together, if my uncle wasn’t around. It was nice. She taught me a bunch of cool stuff in the kitchen. ❞

    only a hum came of his lips as he served the stew into the two porcelains bowls that he had drawn from the cabinet. even if he wasn’t looking, he could tell that the memory was a happy one judging by the tone the other at that moment. his responses, usually timid & short, spoken in such an anxious manner, were different to this. a smile undeniably forming upon his lips & caught just in time for when the blond settled both bowls & utensils down onto the table. his own lips mimicking that smile in his amusement.