#chrsab

familiarity is comforting.

perhaps even more so when it’s sabrina. if he’s being honest, one look at her is enough to forgot the dull ache that slaves away at the back of his mind whenever he thinks about anything, the muted irritation quickly replaced by the faint taste of mint chapstick and a bright peal of laughter followed by a “what?!”. exhaustion kills, maybe, but there’s really no point complaining about how fucking tired you are to anyone else other than an equally weary med student. 

weary med student meaning her, of course — not some other snobby intern that’ll actually try to give him reasonable advice instead of immediately cracking out the wine and cussing out every name under the moon. call what they do a routine, or call it flat out bitchy, but he’d much rather be tipsy and peeved with her than sober and peeved alone.

the silence outside her apartment is shattered by his interruption as the keys jangle when he takes them out of his pocket, swearing under his breath when they clank against the soju bottles haphazardly thrown into the plastic bag hanging off his other wrist. the doorknob turns easily once he shoves the key into the compartment, and the familiar jingle as the door unlocks is all the warning she gets before he intrudes into the space with the panache and confidence of its owner.

“listen,” he calls out immediately when he steps foot inside, nudging his shoes off. he’s met with silence for once, and it’s unnerving to the point where he pauses briefly to gauge whether she’s even home in the first place. he continues anyways. “i was going to buy some bordeaux chateau but i realised halfway that i’m not breaking into my ₩50,000 notes for an uncivilised drinking session on a random weekday.”

the other shoes catch his attention next, a starkly distinct design that he knows he wouldn’t be caught dead in. he scoffs, making his way to her room, the words ‘have you finally lost it?’ on the tip of his tongue as he swings her door open.

— closed starter for @chrsab​​ & @chrjinhyun; some time in 2020.

The sound of his phone beeping takes Haneul’s attention from his laptop, and when he reads the content of the text message he had just received, he lets out a brief sigh and quickly types a response on the screen.

to sabi 🖤 i’m on my way, don’t drink anything else

After pressing the ‘send’ button, he gets up from the couch and leaves his laptop on the coffee table, and then walks to his bedroom so he can grab a jacket and a pair of shoes. Once he’s ready, he walks to the tv room where Sujeong is watching something, and gives her a forehead kiss. “Sabi is drunk again, I’ll be back soon.” And before she can say anything, Haneul is already at the door, reaching for his car keys.

He drives calmly to the building, keepig an eye on his phone in case Sabrina sent him another text message. In the past, Haneul thought Sabrina would take better care of herself after she got engaged to Jinhyun, but it seemed like that wasn’t the case. And as much as he wondered why she didn’t text her fiance instead, he also imagined that maybe those two got drunk together and he’d have to take care of both of them. How awkward wold it be...

His mind says that it would’ve always been that way, though, as if consoling. As if to say he should’ve expected something like that because realistically, who was he anyway? Another question. Life’s two tests: who are you and what do you want? He’s thinking it over, collapsed there in the sand, body outstretched in a gradual sprawl as if he were trying to commit every grain to memory. Maybe he’s that, the innumerable mineral particles all disheveled in a misleading depiction of grounded surface, awash in the high tide.

“I don’t know.” Very softly. He doesn’t.

He thinks he hears something encroaching in the darkness, head laid to the closest side, unseeing gaze still shrewd with obliviousness. He had ran from the island compound when Hansol said it because he knew that he could run. No pursuit. He’d made it that way, anyway, hadn’t he? His smile is bittersweet, still piercingly edged, evolved into abrupt softness as he falters. “Sabrina?” 

He clears his throat, pushed up to his elbows, head shaken to discard the remnants of trampled shore still lacing his hair. “Sabrina. Hey. Sorry about leaving like that. I owe you another round of beer pong, don’t I?”

he was used to night time, the spotlight of the streetlamps, sky vaguely dotted with stars and drowned by draining nightlife of seoul as the bars close ( his included ), picking little pieces of glass out of the bottoms of his nonslips and cleaning spilt beer out of a black button down. he was used to things being a little too quiet, the apartment complex he lived in usually completely shutdown by the time he finished showering, even the residents throwing parties or enraptured by the late-night reruns have fallen asleep near sick buckets or comfortably on the couch.

he stepped out of the apartment with wet hair, drowned in a big sweatshirt even in the midst of summer, the air the hallway a little heavy, slightly warmer than the solid twenty celcius he liked to keep his living space. the door opened a little loudly, the sound almost echoing in the hall, cigarettes buried in his pocket, tattooed fingers wringing. however, this time as he moved to exit the building he heard the sound of another door closing. it made him pause for a moment, head tilted like a dog hearing a car pull up in the driveway. he turned to look, seeing no one else.

now normally he wasn’t someone easily paranoid, he knows other people live here, he knows other people have fucked up schedules, but his routine was usually so foolproof, so absolute, that it sort of unsettled him. he opened the stairwell door and paused another moment, hearing more shuffling and then nothing. a normal person would’ve rationalized this, and really, he tried, but something about the time of night and the lack of physical proof of another person skulking around the halls lead him to quickly believe he was being haunted by the spirit of some sickly victorian boy. he felt the urge to do the horror movie thing that got people killed, the old, reliable ‘ who goes there? ‘ that would end in him being dragged down the stairs by his feet.  

he didn’t, however, instead letting the stairwell door close slowly behind him and deciding to haul ass down the stairs in a way that made him feel kinda fucking stupid.

His version however, reads uniquely, a testimonial insisting he had tried to salvage it. A lunch period he doesn’t ever disremember. She sits idly, either alone or with classmates. He has a particular concentration, he always has. A concentration that does not acquiesce to the outside. Its captive is her. In his memory, she’s alone. In his heart, he deems the isolation deliberate, the emergency flare shot above the stranded water. An opportunity to extend his hand again; he takes it. Sorry. His words attempt it gingerly, tentatives yielding trepidation he feels himself fumbling through. About back then, I mean. His laughter, deliberate and coy. My Mom had told me that we couldn’t talk anymore. You know how our families are.

She had left, in the same, uninterrupted silence.

“Oh my — ... Sabrina?” His words receding in a babbled chuckle, like he’d been incredulous, here to refute that same skepticism. “Is that you?” Duplicitous, his accompanying smile keen. “I thought I saw you over there. Hey.” He sits beside her again, this time particularly dauntless, body maneuvered coolly with a knowingness, countenance unreadable, though his eyes speak again. Narrowly, with an intent discernible only through progress. His hands uncurling its carried glass upon the tabletop in a slow and invitational push toward her. 

“I was going to come over here sooner but I couldn’t believe my eyes, you know? It’s actually been so long. Wow.” Gentle with audible daze, gaze almost devouring where it rests against her, scrutinizing her expression to each nicety. He recollects himself quickly, glass cited within a confirmatory nod, gesturing encouragingly for her indulgence. 

“Oh, hey. Try this. You might like it.” A wink. “It’s pretty fruity.”

The gift is an anchor in that sense. Makeshift and deployed yearningly, a (maybe mutual) plea that they stop where they are. That’s enough, they go no further, they stay right here. It means, however, that he sleeps on the boat, wakes up on the boat, in the blistering sun and the pouring rain. No longer adrift at sea but no closer to any shore. 

They’re just there. 

It’s an unremitting cycle the gift keeps him apart of. How could he ever leave when he’s there at the apartment door? Tiffany link bracelet boxed so cutely, even engraved (Shakespeare’s thirteenth sonnet, first line), staring narrowly as if the door were some impassable object. It wasn’t. He recollects this as he fishes out a copied key.

“Hey.” His greeting is cautious, aware, louder only in that moment. It’s their special rigmarole, walking away into a few, scattered days of silence, coming back unannounced. He had cried last time though; his shakiness now was in account of that. “Sorry,” volume settling once he’s neared a familiar living space. “I know I should’ve texted you back but I didn’t know what to say or how to say it over text, you know? It’s hard.” His pause is deliberate, gaze dropped to monitor his shoes as he removes them, navigating inner trepidation. “It still is hard, honestly. I know I don’t say it often but I do really lo—”

Another pause, the same apprehension swirling tumultuously into a very violent asphyxiation, stabbing once and digging the blade deep. His stare is even somehow chokingly lost, his mouth agape, unspeaking. Hansol ...  and Sabrina. A cake between them.

“What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck is this? Are you — ?” Dumbfounded, his accusations split between them scathingly. “Me? You do this to me?”

    high school love. ---- it’s dumb and stupid and childish and everyone wants one. apparently for good reason too , because jamie here? well she hasn’t stopped smiling ever since hers walked into her life. god knows why the prettiest girl in school chose a fumbling.. teddy bear at best , but it’s done now and jamie wasn’t letting go. no take-backs!!

     in class and she’s thinking about her , back at home and she’s thinking about her , lost between guitar strings and she’s thinking about her.. even at basketball practice and she’s thinking about he--- ouch!! right.. ball to the head was what it took to realise that she’s at practice. -- ‘ yah !! you paying attention captain?? ’  she is , okay. she is. well.... that’s until she hears her phone go off with a personalised little noise , one that dinged with a text jamie couldn’t have possibly ignored. it’s funny how the basketball captain would’ve been thinking about her girlfriend all day only to call it fate when she actually hears from her. 

      perfect timing ( not really , they pretty much knew each other’s schedules at this point ) when sabrina says nothing more than a meet me in the parking lot away from our school after practice , but it’s enough to get jamie excited.. because , well.. jamie. one shower later , she’s in her jeans and oversized t-shirt , the varsity jacket that was usually paired with this outfit probably sitting on another set of shoulders and had to be replaced with a leather jacket of her own --- a particularly cold september this year , hmm. 

      skip to the important part , skip to sabrina leaned against an expensive looking car ( somehow managing to look way more expensive ) , skip to jamie’s dopey grin at the sight of her.. maybe skip past the part it takes a minute for her brain to register the situation. “ hey babe---- WOAH !! what is that???!?! --- i mean i know it’s a car but.. it’s yours??? no freaking way. ” all this happens in the time jamie takes to cover the distance and first it’s always a quick inconspicuous kiss and a ‘ i missed you.. ’ before she actually takes a lap around the automobile , gasping at the slightest of things. 

  oh please don’t make her say it. she already lives with it everyday , every second of every minute.. has been for years now but bringing it up with words , reliving the moment... the way every part of her would shiver and eyes instantly well up. “ well... uh... ” you’ve asked the question so have to wait for a good while until the woman can actually struggle through it.