Traces and Storms

xviii

   I woke up with Myungsoo's arm still wrapped around my waist. I tried to break away, but he only tightened his grip.

"I can feel that, you know," he said.

"I need to go to the toilet," I replied. "So, please?"

He sighed, and rolled away from me. I quickly stood up, took my phone on the coffee table, and headed upstairs.

I didn't return afterwards.

-::-

Jongin invited me to his birthday, and I didn't refuse. I was on my way to the train station when Myungsoo intercepted me. He was, once again, exercising.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, sweat trickling down from his brows despite the cold temperature.

"Yeah."

"You don't pick up my calls."

"I blocked you."

He was rendered speechless, and I took that opportunity to walk past him. It wasn't a lie, anyway. After what had happened, I did just that. At first, I thought of it as being impolite. But then again, I figured I shouldn't tolerate such things, and I should respect myself, as well. Of course, I didn't forget about the role I wanted to play in Myungsoo's life. I still wanted to help him. But feeling conflicted whenever I was with him blurred the line I was trying to draw between us.

"You said you'll stand by my side," he blurted out. His voice cracked at the last syllable.

I paused, before turning to face him. "I also said for as long as I can."

"So," he began. "Is this your limit, Bae Suji?"

I didn't respond.

"I won't let you let me go," was all he said, before jogging away.

I scoffed. So who's holding on to who?

-::-

Jongin's house stayed the same. The scent of Yankee candles drifted through the air, but it wasn't too overpowering. The shelves in the living room still contained the same books, in the same order. Belonging in a family of accountants and engineers, it was rare to see a fictional paperback in their place, which never failed to remind me of home and all things warm.

The celebration only consisted of Jongin's family and several close friends. The company was all too familiar for me, and they never asked about the breakup. I suppose seeing me being in good terms with my ex was good enough for them.

When the living room felt too crowded, Jongin invited me to go upstairs, and we stayed in his room, with the door wide open. We sat on the carpeted floor, and basked in this comfortable silence. I have already given him his present, then, and without a hint of hesitation, Jongin wore the silver necklace around his neck.

"We should really try and avoid big sis if she drinks too much," Jongin began. "She'll ask things."

I smiled, and nodded away. I was aware of it, after all. It wasn't big news to us, but if we could go through the day without having to answer uncomfortable questions, then we'd do just that. Laughter filled the house, and the voices from downstairs reverberated. Though it was lively in Myungsoo's house, as well, Jongin's place simply held a different level of energy. It wasn't as mellow, but it didn't mean it was insincere. It was amusing, how Jongin became the gentle person that he was, despite growing up in an environment filled with rough vivacity.

What else was there to talk about your ex? We were comfortable outside, but staying in his room brought back memories. It still smelled the same—a fresh combination of strawberries and lilies, all because he had the habit of keeping his closet wide open and that was the scent of their fabric conditioner. I couldn't help but remember those deep conversations, subtly exchanged between playlists we would randomly come up with, because we both liked music and discovering new songs together. Jongin was a person who was poor with metaphors, but whenever we talked, and delved deeper, attempting to unravel the strands which held our protective shells together, his voice would resonate with clarity.