walking back into his father’s house after so long a stranger, so long a sea-faring vagrant, so long a kite without a tail, too much freedom in his veins now, too much wind in his hair, the ground feels rough and solid, too solid, too unmoving, and jaejoong instantly wishes he could sit and lay himself out flat against the earth, remember that it is all only just temporary, only smoke to be blown away. jaejoong feels the nervous atmosphere, feels the pricking of tension, his father’s odd greeting still echoing through his ears like the ocean calling through a seashell, but he meanders forward, deeper into the cavern of rooms and artistry.
he’d forgotten the colors here, the way the walls catch light, the way furniture and decorations sit, the way his brother’s jawline tilts just so; he’d forgotten the exact shade of hwan’s irises, and that’s not to say he’s forgotten his brother at all, or the millions of piled tiny annoyances that bond them together in that special way only siblings can understand. but details about a life jaejoong no longer lives, a life he no longer believes in, a life he no longer entirely recognizes, have slipped through his mind like sand on the beach, sifting and spinning and falling away.
still. when their eyes meet, jaejoong does his best to emit what little of a genuine smile to his older brother as he can manage, whatever he can give that is as authentic and genuine as possible. he could smile wider but it would be fake and he’s too exhausted for falsities right now. “brother.” he greets the other male, holding out a hand in connection, his head held high, as though his ankles aren’t soaked through with more blood than hwan has ever seen in his life. “it’s good to see you again, i… i wasn’t sure if i ever would.” a whole year and some change-- it’s enough to turn a man on his head.
