The Toothbrush and Toothpaste Chronicles

The Way It Rains

The Way It Rains (XiuChen)

Hello readers! This is Toothpaste of the TeethTwins™ here with the full version of The Way It Rains. Enjoy~

Xiumin stands frozen in the living room of their apartment, expression hardened, glaring at a person who has long left.

The selfish bastard. Kim Jongdae. Who has lately become more and more inconsiderate and worn his patience down over the weeks. How many times has he told him not to leave his socks on the couch? Countless. What about washing the dishes and mugs after he uses them? Thousands. What about not being stupid and tricking him every time he attempts to cook for him? All because of him they have had coffee with salt and sweet fried rice for weeks. Jongdae knows Xiumin hates things to be in the wrong order. But he does it anyways. And what about not trolling him in the middle of the night when he's trying to sleep? Xiumin can’t even remember any more.

He walks around the leather couch to the coffee table littered with mugs, plates and framed photos of happier times. He starts stacking the dirty cups and dishes slowly, one by one. He’s gotten around to collecting most of them, now gathered in a teetering pile beside the pictures. But then he sees the smug, smiling, carefree face of Kim Jongdae, with his arm slung casually over Xiumin’s shoulder. And somehow, Xiumin can’t take it. He loses it. He sweeps a hand across the table in one quick motion, watching in a bitter satisfaction as he sends porcelain and glass smashing to the wooden floorboards. 

He's beyond caring now. He doesn’t care that he’s scratched the floor he’s so carefully and dutifully kept clean. He doesn’t care that he’s probably just uselessly destroyed quite a few cups and plates that’s he’ll have to replace later. He doesn’t care that he’s damaged photos that are now irrevocably lost. 

Xiumin surveys the mess he’s made in front of him. The fine paper of the photos has been torn and ripped by the sharp fragments protruding through it, and the broken glass glints in the warm, ruddy glow of afternoon sunshine, catching the light and reflecting in a thousand bright and brilliant shades. They spin millions of fragile, kaleidoscopic colours, but all the same, they’re fractured, and broken. And it seems so unfortunately ironic, that a shard has pierced his heart. And Jongdae leaves unscathed yet again, still smiling at him through the shattered frames. Damn him.

He feels terrible.

And only now does he hear the rain. Falling, falling, falling high from the sky, washing the pavements platinum and ladening the trees with their pearly tears. His own fall with them, heavy with burden and regret. He hasn’t done anything wrong, but he still feels guilty. Damn Jongdae and his inability to get hurt. Why must it always be him? 

As he leans his face against the cool panes of the window, Xiumin thinks that the way the rain falls as a gentle pitter patter against the worn concrete, falling softer and chaster than the feather-light touch of an angel, is soothing to a broken heart. It is, isn't it? The way the rain washes the pavement silver, and all there is is the lulling sound of rain. 

Xiumin stares outside vacantly, glassy eyes roaming the misted streets. They’re deserted, sparkling with the tears of heaven. It’s still pouring, and the rain slants with the wind, drifting. He closes his eyes, letting the ubiquitous music of falling rain wash over him. And when he opens his eyes again, he feels that much calmer, and that much more reasonable. The grass of the oval nearby glitters emerald and the few stragglers that had been caught in the downpour have disappeared to shelter. Now there is not a person in sight. 

Except him.

There’s one last person standing amidst the deluge. He wanders aimlessly through the streets like a lost puppy, and Xiumin watches him with piqued curiosity. The man’s drenched really; his thin black jacket clings to him and his ebony hair is plastered against his pale skin, all the while dripping. He looks kind of familiar, but he can’t be quite sure… He doesn’t want to have his hopes so high and then have them crashing down again.