#dokyeom posts

in this dream that was born out of a late night promise by the one who wears your heart upon him like a keepsake from you, he’s making your favourite egg toast. his cream coloured t-shirt with wrinkles across the edges is facing you and there’s a humming of a tune you hear every so often from him. seconds later, he turns around and places the plate of warm egg toast and coffee in front of you.

seokmin’s eyes adorn pure crescents greeting you a good morning while the rays of sun showers him perfectly from the side making the ends of his jet black bed hair shine in auburn.

one night during the first week of this work trip when seokmin had to be out of country for one month, you stood in the kitchen with an expected guest named loneliness looming upon your shoulders.

in seokmin’s announced absence, you’ve discovered three places where you can still find him lingering. one, the kitchen. second, his side of the closet where his scent stands still like a clock that has ran out of battery and third, the rack next to the bathroom sink where he keeps his own bathroom essentials, most importantly, his after shave lotion. almost every other morning, you would take the thick glass bottle, holding it carefully in both of your palm and open the cap to gather a small sniff of one of your favourite scent in the world.

although among all these three places there is one place that makes you feel more emptier than ever and that is the kitchen. a place where you both would spend hours talking about each of your days, about things that bothers and of all things mundane yet significantly noted down in your minds. it’s a place where you both wind down, let the night fall upon your shoulders and make a home in each other’s hearts.

when seokmin told you about his trip, you thought you’d go back to your takeout days for dinner every night after work but unconsciously, like a habit that has abandoned you, you’ve found yourself coming back home forgetting in buying one. for the past two years, you’ve become so use to the habit of passing by the smell of seokmin’s home cooked delicacies that now it seems like you can never go back to how it was before he walked in the picture where only you existed till now.

you were making for yourself some chow mein for that night’s dinner while the call with him was on the speaker. you’ve realized this a long time ago that seokmin’s voice makes you feel secure in your bones. his warmth and his soul puts you at ease.

at the end of the day, even when you want to be alone in your room, away from all the turmoil of the world, you always like to listen to him even if he’s not always speaking to you. his voice could be travelling through the walls when he’s in the living room talking to his friends or co-workers over phone and you’d halt the action in your hands unknowingly. 

your back will go all relaxed and you’ll exhale soundly staring at the wall just above your eye level with the cotton pad still in-between your thumb and forefinger with which you were previously cleansing the makeup off of your face after a long day at work.

some nights you’d be right by the entrance door returning from giving a visit to your parents and a smile would be automatic on your face when you can hear him being a little too enthusiastic on the other side of the door, singing the karaoke song he has been obsessed with since you have forgotten when.

that night when you told him while you stir fried the chow in the empty house, an empty home that belongs to both you and him, that this isn’t like you and that you cannot believe you’re saying this, a truth which is very universal that you really do sincerely miss him even when you told yourself you’ll not.

you told yourself so because voluntary solitude has always been your friendly neighbor. it helps you by making sure that time flies quickly for you and because it’s so easy to stay connected to people in this day and era, you thought it’ll be in no time that you’ll find seokmin at the doorstep of this shared home.

but it seems solitude has left your side and currently, in its place exist a whole being, a sunlit distraction named lee seokmin.

the man of the hour, who was on the other line, had chuckled softly. usually he would tease but that night, he didn’t. he held the phone close to his mouth and in a gentle voice, he told you that you didn’t have to miss him for long because, “i promise i’ll meet you in your dreams tonight.”

that night he sneaked in through the window of the bedroom like a climber and made himself at home inside your dream. he made you your favourite morning egg toast and a cup of coffee, just the way you like it, strong with no sugar. in your eyes, he became one with the sun that fell upon the breakfast table and when you woke up, in your shared bedroom with seokmin, next to the empty side of the bed, you discovered the sun rays had replaced the warmth that your love leaves behind every morning.

an overwhelming feeling washed over you and your throat tightened up, making you end up crying.

later, that morning, you cried again in the kitchen but didn’t call him. the kitchen reminds you more of him than anything else does. it is where his love fills you to your heart’s brim so it was no better antidote to calm you down.

you didn’t get up right away from your bed like you usually do when you wake up. instead, you sat on your knees upon your side of the bed and leaned down upon his side of the bed. you placed your cheek against the warm bed sheet and as the sun fell upon your eyes, you closed them from making you go blind and rubbed the warmth from the bed sheets upon your cheek.

he was here, you told yourself, nobody ever promised to see me in my dream and kept it so thoroughly.

since that night of promise, seokmin has kept on appearing like this and it’s always the same dream and you realized that you can never get bored of the same cycle of events.

even now that you’re drifting mellow in your subconscious mind, in the corridors of your dreamland, you can smell the coffee in the air and as your vision clears painfully slowly, you figure out his outline – the same old wrinkly cream coloured t-shirt and the curls upon his head all ruffled, asking for you to dig the tips of your finger into them.

only one more night, you said to yourself convincingly, and he will come back home tomorrow.

it was what he had informed you of two nights ago. his voice was a bit hoarse and it seemed the meeting that he previously had made him do most of the talking but he still made sure to let you know of his arrival because he knew you missed him just as much he does.

you wanted to sleep all through this afternoon and night, not waking up at all, until you can feel his presence next morning in this home so that your chest starts to stop feeling so hollow.

seokmin usually does both when he returns home after work. first, he rings the bell and then, unlocks the door himself before you can meet him in the middle at the doorway but that is possible only if you’re home before him during weekdays and on weekends, when it’s your off days.

although this afternoon due to certain intentions, he skips over the first step. he only unlocks the door and prays in his head that you’d be asleep because it’s saturday and usually, most weekend afternoons, you’d be napping after reading a book or watching an animated film.

seokmin trusted his instincts and stepped inside the soundless home. his heart was beating louder than it was planned but nevertheless, with faint footsteps, he walked into the living room and it took him no effort to find you submerged under the orange hue of the drowning sun.

placing the bag of grocery he bought while returning upon the kitchen aisle, seokmin takes some long careful strides and squats in silence next to you, eyes wandering to the abandoned plate full of watermelons.

he smiles and touches the ends of your hair that’s spread out carelessly upon the wooden floor. he doesn’t wake you up. instead, he takes the plate and puts it inside the fridge.

he decides that he needs a nice warm bath and a quick clean shave. maybe when he’s out all fresh and his body is letting go of the jetlag, he’ll take some bite of that watermelon because it looked like, even though you’re not good with kitchen knives, you took your time cutting the chilled watermelon in almost perfect triangles.

seokmin leaves you undisturbed upon the open veranda, covering your legs with a shawl he found clean in the laundry basket and steps inside the bath. he shaves the stubble that was growing around his chin and rubs the after shaving lotion upon the shaved area.

almost half an hour later when he steps out of the bath after drying his hair with a towel that is now resting upon his neck, he gets back into the kitchen and takes out the plate of watermelons he had previously put inside, picking one piece to take a bite and to savor the cooling effect it leaves throughout his body.

he takes the plate and closes the distance between you and him. seokmin settles himself down next to your sleeping self feeling himself somehow becoming one with you under the gradient of the sun that bids another farewell.

he turns his head around to his right and tenderly observes your sleeping face. his eyes follow the mellow ups and downs of your chest. without much thought, he leans in and gently rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek  just to check how much he has missed having you next to him and your scent, the wind that flows against all his edges.  

he cannot for the life of him wake you up when you look so serene because he realized it’s a privilege to see a person who is stationed so permanently in his heart sleeping like as if, finally, their world is at peace. after all the running and fighting with not just the way of this world but also with yourself, he can see you finally resting and accepting.

it’s a scene that countless painters have painted for centuries only because they knew that there’s always something new to discover when they look at someone they love – both things that the other person hides and things they place in front of the painter’s eyes.

although seokmin can neither draw or paint, he has his memory and in his memory, there are walls where now this scene joins many other paintings with you as the subject.

seokmin stretches his legs to release the fatigue in them and reaches for another piece of watermelon as he sits there waiting for the break of your dawn. he waits patiently for your eyes to be on him after a month long of estrangement.

as the dream started fading into a black infinite canvas, your conscious senses started coming up to the surface. squeezing your eyes, you fought with sleep and in the air, you smelt the strong, tantalizing smell of seokmin’s after shaving lotion. you felt yourself losing.

you thought it is impossible because you know seokmin is not supposed to be here and so this might be your brain trying to trick you. either way, you didn’t understand the point of this trick. you furrowed your brows and opened your eyes.

“are you not cold?” your eyes follow the euphonious voice that you can recognize even in a room full of people. they settle upon the calming presence of the man next to you for long.

“am i dreaming?” your voice that was supposed to sound like you’re in doubt sounded croaky as you had just stepped out of your sleepy state.

you noticed seokmin holding a piece of watermelon in his hand. he takes a bite into it and shakes his head and you can see him visibly beam at you. he seems amused by your reaction as he waits for your further words.

as for you, your eyebrows start climbing up your forehead while your eyes goes wide in astonishment, “you’re really here?”

“you must be dreaming too much of me to think that i’m not real right now,” seokmin declared in a convincing tone to which you thought, how did he know?

“weren’t you supposed to come tomorrow?”

“oh, that.” seokmin chuckled, “i lied because i wanted to surprise you.”

“so you did not ring the bell too?”

seokmin hummed back a no. he was very much into finishing up what seemed like his third piece of watermelon.

“god, i cannot believe this. so? how long have i been sleeping?”

“maybe more than an hour. i returned an hour ago.”

“and, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“because i wanted to look at you.”

“i’m not an artifact in a museum, min, you’re funny.”

seokmin laughs at your words and now completely turns around to face you. neither of you say anything and stay as it is in silence. there was nothing to break that silence until the man in front of you put down the hard layer of the melon he has just finished and shuffles around to lay down next to you.

you take half of the shawl that was covering you and place it upon his chest.

“i’m real. see?” seokmin tells you before pulling you close to him as if he knows that you might think of all this happenings as a dream. he holds you tightly against himself and you move to place half of your body upon him.

you tugged your lower lip in, suppressing an overflowing smile as you place a palm upon his cheek, “yes. yes, i see you and i missed you.”

“i missed you too. i even miss you now. i cannot wait to cling onto you until you get sick of me.” seokmin states his wish as he places one of his palm behind your head and pulls you in so that he can nuzzle at the crook of your neck.

“nah, i don’t think that’s happening this soon,” you reply as both of you burst into a fit of giggles, two chests vibrating against each other as each of you feel the warmth, the heart beats and the weight of each other in your arms.

minutes later after a long hug, seokmin unwraps himself from your arms and tells you that you’ll catch a cold like this if you stay this close to the open veranda right now as today’s evening has already welcomed itself at home.

you look at the sky and realize that it is indeed the truth. darkness has fallen and today, it seems like the moon resemblances the shape of seokmin’s eyes when he smiles.

seokmin gets up from the wooden floorboard and lets you take your time to get out of your drowsy state of body. walking into the bedroom, he brings out a hoodie for you and as he watches you wear it upon your t-shirt to warm you up, he offers to make tonight’s dinner.

“that’s one good thing about you being back home. now i don’t have to ponder over what to eat for dinner.” ….and also not be lonely while putting a single plate upon the dinner table to eat because you were not there, you thought to yourself.

it makes you puzzled sometimes how even two years ago you were happy enough to just be back home at your place and eat whatever for the night because you were so used to being on your own but now, you cannot recognize those parts of you in yourself anymore.

you’re too used to it now. the love that seokmin puts in your coffee every morning without you asking for it. so much that now you don’t know where to put it all down in words. you’ve forgotten when seokmin has come and added his golden yellow to your palette of dull blue.

presently, under this blue and yellow gradient coloured sky, what can you call this love? a feeling that can only be equivalent to the stream flowing or the rain drizzling? like coffee, you drink it down and offer to wash the dishes because you want to stay longer. because, it seems like you’re always dreaming since he has walked into your life with a suitcase in hand.

“i cannot believe i’m saying this, min, but i was getting sick of eating takeouts.” you tell him as you follow him into the kitchen. you watch seokmin taking out the vegetables he bought, “i was dying to have a nice dinner made by you.” you conclude not knowing what else to say.

“that’s why i’m here now - to spoil you rotten, sleepyhead. now freshen up, we’ll watch this one movie i found while we eat.” seokmin takes hold of your hand and as your knuckles get buried under the heat of his large palm, you realize that no other part of your body can ever be as warm as the space in-between your and his hand. 

welcome home, you tell yourself, it’s been hard, right?