Conversations; All In Blue

Thirteen

The sun streaming in the window bounced off all the white and teal and gave the whole room an unearthly glow. The soft gauze curtains were blowing gently in the breeze and, from his place in the bed, Junhui could see a tiny neon pink spot in the waves. It was Hansol of couse, already outside and chasing his dreams across the crest of morning waves.

Junhui groaned and stretched as he felt every single inch of last night's activities ache throughout his body. He never expected to wake up alone but honestly, what else was he expecting? It was him that was leaving; he never should have expected more. Waking up in crisp cotton sheets in a warm embrace? Breakfast on the verandah and coffee huddled close in the kitchen? The sound of waves rolling in the background as kittens mewled and the far off cry of a gull broke the peace?

He was used to being left afterwards. He should have expected to wake up alone. It didn't mean anything obviously, to Wonwoo anyway, it never did mean anything to the men who enjoyed themselves with Junhui's body and discarded him straight away.

Junhui ignored the cramps and muscle aches and ripped the sheets off the bed. It was time to dispose of the evidence accordingly and relegate the night before to just another memory in the patchwork of his past.

When the whte cotton sheets were flapping merrily on the clothes line Junhui took his breakfast outside onto the verandah. It was meagre, the last of the fruit from his now empty fridge, and he sighed as he picked at the melon and mango. Breakfast out here with Wonwoo would have been a joy, all shy smiles and hidden glances, he could imagine it so clearly.

But in reality he was alone and that's how he should be. Junhui had his recovery to focus on, his life to go back to, and he had to face it all now before it became too difficult. There was only one thing left to do before he drove back to the city and he figured if the sheets dried fast enough he probably could even get going today instead of waiting. It was only prolonging the inevitable and he didn't feel like sitting around the empty house that held nothing but his beautiful memories of a life that could have been.

Junhui took a deep breath, straightened his shirt, and rang the hidden doorbell. He waited as he shifted from one foot to the other and finally Wonwoo appeared to open the door. "Hi," Junhui said and Wonwoo nodded. "Hi," he said back, expression cool and unreadable. "I've come for Cinnammon," Junhui followed Wonwoo into the claustrophobic stairwell. "I-I'm leaving soon."

"I thought you were leaving tomorrow?" Wonwoo's eyes didn't meet his as he opened the door at the top of the stairs. "I'm going to get going early," it felt like a lame excuse out of Junhui's mouth but it didn't matter. None of this mattered. Wonwoo didn't care that he was leaving; he probably wouldn't even come and visit. And he'd only come back here if he was invited but that was looking increasingly unlikely with each cold breath shared between them. It was positively icy in the little flat as Wonwoo crossed the floor and picked the kitten up out of the pen where they were secured.

"I got her some things....." Wonwoo looked around and his armour cracked a little, he looked so lost in that moment Junhui wanted to cry. He'd never seen Wonwoo slip and let his perfect façade crack so deeply although he recovered his expression quickly. In that one fleeting moment he looked so young and so afraid. It made Junhui want to ask questions but he was just as afraid of the answers.