At 19:23, as he was passing through a rather large city, he parallel parked in front of a noodle shop.
Ramyeon. He wanted his last meal.
The noodles swirled into an almost artistic nonsense of a pale mandala. He ate very slowly, feeling the memories of this food in his chest.
On the way home from Yeosang's first taekwondo tournament, where he cried after breaking someone's nose, they had ramyeon.
For his twelfth birthday, where he could pick any meal, ramyeon was his choice. His mother laid out many other options in an attempt to land on a more interesting meal, but he stayed with the desire for instant noodles.
When his mother was gone for the day, ramyeon was on the menu. (He and Yeosang usually ate it while watching shows they mutually enjoyed.)
He ate every last drop, then purchased another bowl, because, why not?
Clearing his table, he waved goodbye to the apparent owner, and headed for the exit. When he pushed open the door, cold wind burst onto his face and swirled up under his coat, leaving a tingling chill running across his skin. Under the city lights, he pulled his jacket tight.
Against a stone wall, just a moment away from trampling feet, someone sat on a rolled up sleeping bag.
He stopped. He looked at the human huddled in the cold. He couldn't tell, well, anything really, about the person. They were hunched and bundled in whatever layers were given them. The only visible skin was on their outstretched hands where gloves were fading back into yarn.
At that moment, he was glad to be leaving.
YOU ARE READING
Twenty-Four Hours || k.hj
FanfictionHongjoong knew the moment he awoke; he that knew today was the day. His twenty four hours. °°° The body which had been his for over twenty five years suddenly seemed peculiar to use. Memories suffused his mind, memories he thought had been long lost...
