flicker - a showki one shot

flicker

To Hyunwoo, it was easy to compare someone to fire.  Anyone, in moments of passion or anger could easily be described as a blazing plume of destruction, beautiful and entrancing and capable of turning everything around it to nothing but ash.  It wasn't an uncommon concept, fire, especially in literature. Its symbolism, be it of a burning love or a burning hate, perhaps a phoenix of rebirth or the destruction of entire nations, wasn't particularly foreign. The idea was simple - what you compared to the flame, you were fascinated by.

In Hyunwoo's eyes, Kihyun was a flame. An ember. A spark.

A flicker.

Hyunwoo would insist it isn't the vibrant red of Kihyun's hair that makes him say as much, he'd swear it on his life. He simply has seen his roommate around, watched him do what he loves. That's what first planted the metaphor in his head.

Kihyun loves to cook. Kihyun cooks very well.

Kihyun loves to clean. Kihyun cleans  very well.

Kihyun loves to sing. Kihyun doesn't know Hyunwoo has heard him, but the two know that Kihyun does this very well, too.

Hyunwoo, even when he first met Kihyun as the redhead scouted out his apartment and potential roommate, had pegged him as someone who was unabashedly himself. 8 months later, and thus far, Hyunwoo's assumption of the younger had proven itself to be true. Kihyun poured his heart and soul into all that he did and took pride in his work - as he should.

The first month was as awkward as you'd expect it to be with Hyunwoo. The two were cordial, of course, courteous and civil, but they weren't exactly "buddy-buddy" friends. They simply lived together. Hyunwoo had kept himself busy with his daily job as an accountant, crunching numbers and scanning report after report and paper after paper for hours a day. It was a steady job that paid well, even if Hyunwoo sometimes had to bump his 40 hours a week up to 60, so he supposed he could be content with it. He was good at his job, his position was secure. He didn't worry about any of that.

Then Hyunwoo learned that Kihyun worked three different jobs throughout the week. He worked a few shifts at a local convenience store, did a bit of work for a local restaurant, and topped it off with babysitting in his spare time.

(Kihyun had never brought kids to his and Hyunwoo's apartment; he traveled to the child's home instead. When Hyunwoo had inquired about the frequent disappearances that didn't pertain to his other two jobs, the younger had explained that it was toddlers he was going to be with, not an old flame. Kihyun had wondered why Hyunwoo was so curious about his whereabouts. Did he care, or something?)

___________

One day Hyunwoo asked what Kihyun was working for.

"How do you know I'm working for something?" Kihyun had relayed with the quirks of a brow. The two were in the kitchen, idly preparing a light dinner.

Hyunwoo shrugged and scratched the skin beneath his jaw with his thumb. Kihyun had recognized the absent-minded action as a habit the elder had developed for when he felt awkward. "Dunno. A hunch."

Kihyun smiled solemnly at that. "A restaurant. I want to open a restaurant."

"That makes sense," The elder brunette had replied. He watched Kihyun's expert hands mince an onion without batting an eye or nicking a finger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The redhead quipped quickly. "'That makes sense'-"

"Ah, I didn't realize how that could've sounded." Hyunwoo moved his hand from beneath his chin to the back of his neck. "I meant that your cooking and work ethic can definitely get you what you want."