unconditionally • yunhwa [COMPLETED]

O

So open up your heart and just let it begin

"Why didn't it feel like a home? Weren't you and, um, your ex staying there together?" Seonghwa felt dead cautious about mentioning his boss's name, especially not when Yunho was not in a particularly stable state. "It's alright, hyung, you can say his name. I have to get over it somehow. But yeah, the house didn't feel like a home. It's similar to the feeling of staying in a hotel. The place is neat and pleases the eye, but it doesn't feel lived in. That's what our home looked like, feeling like we hadn't been staying there at all. For all I care, our home could be considered a showroom. We didn't put up any decorations, no pictures either, nothing to distinguish that there were living people in that apartment. I noticed you have a family picture on your bedside table, sorry, I shouldn't have peeked." He added as an afterthought.

"Aww, no, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I keep it there because they're family, but we're not that close anymore, fell out years ago. I still call them occasionally, but other than that, I'd scarcely call them family. Anyway, as you were saying?"

"I also noticed the record player beside the tv. Is that why you went to work for Yeosang and Minho?"

"Technically, it was. I find records nostalgic, even if they're not as space effective. There's just something about them, even when they're of a current music track, there's something about using a record player that gives a vibe. Maybe it's an influence too, I'm not really sure, but that's a partial reason as to why I'm here now."

"Would you play one for me?"

Seonghwa felt his face turn red. There wasn't anything about that line that was provocative, but it sounded too much like an invitation. Hiding his blushing face, Seonghwa hurried to his bedroom, where he kept most of the records, muttering a soft "Sure, I'll be right back" as he scurried off. Shuffling through the shelf of records, which were marked with pieces of masking tape for easy identification, Seonghwa located the one he knew was the calmest. Toning down his nerves, he paced slowly through the corridor and back into the living room. "Here, I got one."

He set up the player, and in a moment, the opening bars of Pachelbel's Canon tinkled through the air. Instantly, the soft classical music made him relax, something about piano playing helped melt his worries. He turned to Yunho, and was horrified seeing the hefty waterfall of tears spilling over his cheeks. "No no no no no, Yunho, why are you crying again?"

Unable to help himself this time, Seonghwa leans over and envelops the other in a hug, which the younger leans into gratefully. "Don't be upset anymore."

It hurts my heart to see you sad.

"The music... reminds me of Sangie, I mean, Yeosang. We always listened to classical music in the car together. There was one time when we went on this long road trip, stopping by a bunch of different states. On the last day, we were heading back home, and it started raining. For some reason, he decided to play some classical tunes. We were chatting, I was driving, so I didn't see for the whole duration, but every now and then, I'd catch a glimpse. Every single time I looked, he had the most genuine smile on his face. Every memory I have of that trip has classical music playing alongside it. Those were some good times." He replied sorrowfully, staring at the floor. "But now I wonder if I'll ever see it as a pleasant recollection again..." More tears welled up in his eyes, and Seonghwa went into alarm mode.

"Y'know, I can just change the music right? It's not a big deal. Don't put yourself through this misery."

"No, hyung. Don't change it. I know you like it. It's just me, I'm the one who has to get over it." He gestured the elder, who had stood up again, to sit back down.