sudden shower

A smile appeared. It was small, but it was definitely there. He had began to slip into the ease of familiarity, allowing him to forget the anxiety that had clawed at his insides just moments before. It was the disruption to routine that proved to be the catalyst, as really, Jihan enjoyed spending time with Ahnjong. The other provided him with a companionship that was just… easy. Conversation was exhausting on a good day, but with Ahnjong, the quiet wasn’t something to be afraid of.

The gratitude pleased him greatly. It was almost childlike, but the fact that Jihan was able to give his friend something to look forward to had him concealing yet another smile. He didn’t feel as if he was able to offer much (Jihan was certainly not the friend that would join in on a night of debauchery) but he was glad that he had FINALLY managed to get something right. He simply nodded in response, but the corners of his eyes crinkled as he turned to study the changing leaves from where they sat.

Jihan’s thumb came to press against his upturned palm, proceeding to trace patterns onto his skin. A small frown appeared as he considered Ahnjong’s question. His lip began to curl slightly, he didn’t wish his mind to stray there. He thought about work enough, he didn’t want it to dampen his spirits. But he would indulge his friend by satiating their curiosity. 

“It isn’t easy. Especially in cases where the crime was explicitly violent.” It was laughable, talking about such matters amidst such serenity. But nonetheless, Jihan continued. “Sometimes, I feel sick.” The frown deepened as he turned towards Ahnjong. “So yes, I hate it. I hate them. I just don’t understand how they could do the things they do and just… carry on.” A heavy sigh left him before his tone turned inquisitive. “Why do you ask?”

▒|🌵✘━━ the day is pleasantly warm but the sun feels overbearing, baking ahnjong’s mind, his mood. why does he feel like he’s sitting on this bench waiting to be hauled to the gallows━ with jihan, he always wondered if things were too simple and he was getting all of the benefits without paying.

“I thought it was like that,” a practiced glance at the ground, as he liked to avoid eye contact. “sometimes, people might have reasons.” he begins and it’s a solid start, no teetering like a bolder on a cliff but it isn’t enough to stop the landslide.

“i ask because━” he isn’t ready, his hands shake, vision pops up with white spots from stress. will he have a panic attack here? he clears his throat of a blockage.

he doesn’t know how to do this, it had been his entire plan today. but here facing the demon of doing it, he’s falling short. he doesn’t want to lose jihan’s friendship. 

because how can he tell the man sitting beside him that every single day he carried on after what he did. or that it never got any easier. how do you admit to being a monster in front of a man so good, so great as jihan?

the words don’t leave his throat, he peers at jihan with the most heart wrenched, wavering gaze. it’s fearful, tears in his eyes that rise from no where. jihan will hate him...

it’s surreal. so many years he had known her but it felt like a hundred since he’d last talked to her. probably because it nearly was. his age skipped too much since they’d last met. had it really been close to 7 years since then?

he stands and stretches with his heart beating a hundred a minute. last night he arrived too late and ended up going to sleep after just barely saying hello to her, a few minutes of small talk and then they agreed to continue in the morning. now that the sun was out he had no more time to prepare, so he let’s himself out of the room before he can work himself up into a frenzy. @wyminjung​ had been one of his very first and most precious friends. he would do anything to protect her.

the lobby of the hotel is basically empty on this weekday morning, so he strolls right through, stands by the window and looks out with his hands in his pockets and his thoughts on her. would she hate him? would she even really remember him? too many variables to consider just yet.

time isn’t a construct to her in those fleeting moments – she only knows the soft wind that caresses her skin and stirs up the mellow scent of strawberries with the idle movements on strands not rushed into a messy bun. she doesn’t know how long she’s been watching the same grains of sand shift with the distribution of her weight on the ground.  has it been seconds? minutes? hours? months? years? it’s not a thought she can comprehend in that moment and so she merely counts her breaths until the urge to cry is completely erased away from her mind. she doesn’t know if it’s possible, doesn’t know if her strength will allow her the refuge away from the pain but she hopes desperately that it might. 

“I don’t think you’re the worst.” her answer is immediate, the barest hint of the clouds in her mind as she finally takes herself a moment to gaze at him. the smile of her face is nothing but a caricature of the warmth that is usually there but she is trying. she knows that he’s seen the puffiness and the redness and the fact that he chooses not to speak on it gives her a sense of relief. “once when I was really young, my father was supposed to pick me up from the train station because it was his weekend with me and I waited there for 6 hours before my mother told me to come home.” 

laughter bubbles but it isn’t the jolly kind – instead it’s incredulous at the stupidity of her younger self. she had been so discouraged back then and yet the older version of the woman carelessly rocking back and forth on the swing wishes she had known then what she knew now. “thank you for coming.” an afterthought tacked on to show her gratefulness that he had made his way there. it didn’t matter how long it had taken him, he still chose to show his face and for that she was grateful. 

with all the grace of a bull in a china shop she hastily rubs away the remainder of her tears, banishing them away because they had no place in pleasant company. “I’m sorry I called you out here this late….I just…” she stops for a moment before her hands wrap tighter around the chain that had bitten mercilessly into the pads of her fingers. “I didn’t know who else to call.” they are friends, could that cover her excuses? she doesn’t know and with a single moment of quietness between them she begins to push her body forward and back again, gaining a little momentum on the swing. “this is my favorite place to go to think….I didn’t get to go to parks when I was younger so now it’s like my solace.” 

▒|🌵✘━━ if he could feel more relief he would, rushing through him like an almost cold sensation, ice water to the face to wake him up and he nods, sits in the swing feeling better. again he’s reminded that he owes his friends too much. he stares out into the distance as she speaks, her story heart-wrenching more than anything. he doesn’t know what that’s like; to want to stay for your family. his mother wouldn’t have showed, he would have known that and not bothered. his step-father? a topic entirely too dark to think about.

he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, a sad expression clenching his features.

“i’ll always come,” he says finally, and he means that. he sees her wipe the tears from the corner of his eyes, tries not to look at her to give her the privacy.

she apologizes, looks so miserable and forlorn that his heart hurts. this is the same girl who’s climbed up him like he was a monkey bars, who he’d carried around on his back the entire first day they’d met. worked together as she laughed right next to his ear and pointed him around like he was her own personal steed to usher her around.

it was a strange day but not at all bad. he had been fond of her for making him comfortable right off the bat, no questions of whether he were a friend in her mind, not unless things got really dark for him (but that’s another manner).

he stands from his swing and walks around behind them, behind her to grab the chains of her swing. pulls her gently, her weight so light that he barely had to move for the momentum to pick up. the chains whine as she moves and his hands go through the motions to get her to a comfortably paced pivot. “i didn’t get to go to parks either,” he admits, looking down at her, “it can be hard.” he’s really so bad at this comforting business isn’t he? he tried to imagine she was his sister for a second, thought it would make things easier. remove the awkwardness. “are you sad often?” the thought strikes him as too terrible. 

the thought of ji-yeon’s crying alone here at this park is upsetting.

@wyahnjong

—— ANXIETY MADE ITS PRESENCE KNOWN. His stomach felt as if it were coiled tightly, muscles aching to the point where nausea threatened. It was not the fact that Ahnjong had asked to meet up that bothered him as such, it was more so that the invitation was out of the blue–Jihan always needed to be prepared, having a string of lines on standby should a situation go awry (he had a notebook full of them). The two had shared a conversation a few days ago, what had warranted another meeting? Jihan suspected that Ahnjong may ask to borrow the novel which Jihan had raved about, so amidst his fretting, he gathered it and slid it into his satchel. 

The butterflies had settled somewhat once Jihan stepped off of the bus. He was worrying for no good reason, he knew this. These nerves would have been nonexistent should he have had more warning, but as per usual, these worries of his were not present on his expression. No, as he walked towards the familiar figure that awaited him, his demeanour spoke of composure. Nonchalance, even.

“Ahnjong,” Jihan greeted as he grew closer. With the disruption to his routine aside, Ahnjong had certainly picked a nice day to meet. The sunlight shone rather brightly through the trees, and Jihan found himself squinting at his friend. He sat, hand delving into his bag to retrieve the book. “Don’t fold the pages.” Jihan warned, the pages pristine and far from being dog-eared. “I assumed this is why you asked to meet. You won’t be disappointed, the reviews are superb.”

▒|🌵✘━━ his palms sweat, body temperature rising though he isn’t sure why. maybe stress. probably stress, his ears ring sometimes when his thoughts get too loud, but right now is worse. there’s a lasting silence, his thoughts turned down to a deadlock. 

it’s becoming increasingly difficult to focus recently around jihan, about jihan, their friendship, so much. jihan is a friend that ahnjong doesn’t deserve, he knows this all too well. after all, if the other man really knew who he was, what he was capable of, their friendship would end faster than flipping a switch.

as they grew closer and ahnjong learns new things about his new hyung, he comes to a few startling realizations. over time they’re building up and ahnjong finds that he can’t stop the overwhelming hum arguing in his head; jihan may hate him, but that’s for the best. he was lucky to get any time in the first place. 

jihan strolls up with a familiarity that ahnjong feels blessed to see, a man so private, much like himself, yet he was opening up. ahnjong doesn’t deserve to see that. “hey hyung,” he tries on a smile for size and it wobbles and falls into a frown when he takes the book in hand. glancing down to see the the title, he’s unsurprised. it’s off the mark but, he still isn’t surprised, his hand laying atop and another small smile for jihan’s sake. “thanks. for this. i can’t wait to read it.”

he holds a hand out to usher them both to the nearby bench so that they aren’t standing in the road, sits and laces his fingers in his lap. the birds chirp and his lack of sound in his head is welcomed for a second as he takes in the scenery in silence. silence between them was always comfortable, never forced or awkward. he’ll miss that.

“hyung, remember when we talked about criminals? crime, cases and, all that stuff with your job?” he looks out at the scenery as he speaks, “what i’m saying is━ how hard is it to do your job? being around criminals and dealing with all the things they did. you hate it, don’t you.” it isn’t a question, not really.

         a subdued aura encircled the park – soft fleshy digits carefully wrapping around cold steel, the balmy scent of a warm autumn night not enough to soothe the ache within her chest. irises glimmered with unshed tears, the view of familiar trainers blurred as she blinks away the sorrow that’s filling a tightened chest cavity. her mothers words are often biting, replaying themselves with merciless intent as she recalls the phone call that had been no more than an hour ago. 

          their fights are often ruthless, a hardened tone painstakingly dragging each and every flaw of jiyeon’s to the surface, dragging down every bit of self confidence that she had managed to accrue in her time away from the woman. she was angry with her, furious even as she says for the umpteenth time that jiyeon was to follow her exact orders down to the letter. it did not matter what she thought, what she felt, because she was the daughter of a legacy and she would not shame her. 

         she had been so wounded that she had merely agreed with head bowed, a heavy weight in her tone as fingers pressed increasingly familiar numbers. it was late, she probably shouldn’t bother him, and yet the compulsion to speak with him was so strong she couldn’t ignore it. she tried to right her voice, soothe jagged edges into a bright and happy tone but there was just something that was off the mark. she asks him to meet her at her favorite park in thirty minutes and when she hangs up the phone the weight presses back down onto her chest, threatening to suffocate her. 

         yet all she tries to do is blink away the hurt, the tears threatening to drown her in vivid blue waters. what will he think if he sees her red eyes, wet with tears and sobs threatening to flow past tiers? it’s embarrassing to feel so vulnerable in such an open place, what is she to do? it’s not a question that she can answer. @wyahnjong

▒|🌵✘━━ time isn’t on his side tonight; he has too much to do, had a few assignments to do, though now that he thinks about it, he’ll have to cram them in tomorrow between classes. after all, he has more important things to deal with. his phone glows in his hand as he glances down to check the time.

she called how long ago? almost 2 hours? his brows drop, a sigh as he thinks that she must have been alone all this time waiting for him. why did she call him in the first place, things between them were as good as ever but, late night calls like this? never. he breaks out into a jog, unable to fight off the oddly insistent thought that she needed him, really needed him, that something was wrong━ his eyes hit the sky, dark blue with big fluffy clouds overhead. 

why did they get close, all that time ago? what sparked it━ no one ever stuck around like this, well, rarely. it was because he was too stiff, too nervous, too awkward. he wasn’t a people person, not to mention that he’s a murderer bad person.

he runs upon the park with a heave, stops a second to catch his breath as much as he can, but it’s still a jagged, uneven line like the drumming beat of his heart when he crosses into the empty grounds. only playground installments and the moon above there to witness. and he spots her too quickly.

his eyes glisten with caution as he approaches, hands at his sides and out of breath but he’s hopefully not too late. she pitches back and forth, looking down, and his thoughts jumble into a mess.

“i’m late,” he swallows, approaches carefully, slowly, they’re on unknown territory now. this meeting doesn’t feel like the usual ones, they aren’t this close yet (though he wishes they were). it’s all different, and he doesn’t know how to navigate it yet. “i know...i’m the worst.” he approaches a swing next to her with a steady gaze, tries to joke but it sounds strange coming from him. he ignores the red of her eyes, doesn’t know how to say anything. chooses normalcy over comfort.