Spotless Mind; Soonhoon

03

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A WEEK OR two quickly turns into something much more, red lines marking the calendar and slipping from April into May. Jihoon doesn't even realize it until his mother mentions it on the phone.

"You said a week or two, remember?"

Jihoon sighs, "Yes, I remember."

"You also said you'd call me every day."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that - really, Mom, I am. I just - " he sighs again, ruffling his hair and bringing his hand down to swipe at his face " - I'm really liking it out here, okay? And I'm sorry I haven't been calling like I said I would, I promise I'll start doing that. But I'm an adult, yeah? I can stay out here as long as I like. I just hate to think of you worrying."

"I am worrying." Her voice sounds grainy, but he can still hear every thread of concern poking out of it. He cringes inwardly, guilty.

"I mean it when I say I'm doing better out here."

"I believe you, baby, but you have to understand - you need to come home, eventually. You may like it there but you can't spend the rest of your life in that little cottage. You have friends out here, your family, your job. Everything's waiting for you."

Jihoon can feel his breathing getting shorter, quick inhales feeling like nothing in his lungs, like there isn't any air left for him to swallow. His head hurts and he can feel his heartbeat at his temples, pulsing. Everything's waiting for you. He knew that, deep down he had to have known that, but it's the first time he's heard it so bluntly. Everything's out there, in the city. As much as he may like it where he's at, he can't stay forever. He shudders.

"Everything can wait a little longer. I'm not ready yet."

"I know, I know ... Just call me, okay? I'll feel better if I can hear your voice a little more often. I love you."

Jihoon assures her that yes, he'll make a point to call more often, and I love you too ... before hanging up. The room fills up with oxygen once more, he can breathe again; he needs to stop doing that, reacting so badly to every minor inconvenience. Things will only get worse if he doesn't learn how to get himself under control - he can practically picture himself fainting on the first day back at work.

He can picture himself, a day into the city and feeling like a stranger wrapped in familiarity. There's a panic in his chest every time he so much as thinks about it.

So, he doesn't. He doesn't think about it.

—

Soonyoung is playing with Jihoon's hair, angling his arm sort of weirdly to accommodate the way he's sitting and twirling a dark strand around his finger. They're sitting on the swing chair in Soonyoung's yard and not saying anything, just watching the clouds.

Somehow, Jihoon ended up with his head resting on Soonyoung's shoulder. Soft, soft, the feeling is soft. Cotton shirts against bare arms and the sun on his cheeks, a bumblebee floating in and out of the corner of his eye. Soft, except for the nagging feeling in his chest. Not thinking about it hasn't been working so well.

"How can I say it?" Jihoon asks, and his voice sounds rough after having not been used for a while.

"Say what?"

"That I need to be alone. That I'm - I'm tired, and no matter how much sleep I get I'll always be tired, and I can't keep smiling at people and I can't keep talking to people and I can't - I can't be near them. And it isn't their fault," he adds, getting quieter. "It isn't. I love them, but I need to be alone."