| 14 (1/2)

. . fourteen . .   Hyukjae wakes up to the noises coming from the kitchen. Stirring, he notices his leg has gone numb. His tired eyes focus on the slump laying over him, seeing the girl and the dark strands of her hair. Watching his every move, he shifts the girl on the sofa, placing a pillow under her head before he stands up, sneaking to the kitchen.

Something cooks in the kettle, and a variety of vegetables are spread on a cutting board before Donghae, who seems to be in his own thoughts as he works.

“Smells nice,” Hyukjae mutters, and Donghae jumps on his feet.

“Don’t do that!” the younger hisses, turning towards the other who eyes him with amusement, the other end of his lips quirking up.

Hyukjae takes the apple juice from the fridge, drinking straight from the bottle. Donghae glowers, cutting an onion in half.

“Don’t do that either.”

Hyukjae rolls his eyes, and takes a glass from the counter he’s pretty sure he’s used before. No words are shared as Donghae keeps cutting the carrots. He just watches. The other uses the knife expertly. He wouldn’t have thought that Donghae could be one to cook.

“I see you managed to wash your clothes… Didn’t know you like pink clothes though,” the nurse mutters after a while, placing the onion mince aside.

Hyukjae remembers the drying rack in the hallway, where few of his previously white shirts are now hanging, reddish. He doesn’t say anything. Next time, he might remember to was the whites separately.

“I brought the clothes for Jaemin...” Donghae notes absent-mindedly, throwing the carrots into the pot. “My mom put some toys there as well. Plushies, Legos, some dolls, a few books.”

Hyukjae humms.

Donghae is as hard to read as ever. The face remains the same, no emotions clear in sight. He wants to talk, just for the mere sake of it. But Hyukjae’s not sure if he has the right to ask about his day, or if Donghae’s even interested of sharing anything. They’re not friends anymore. But he doesn’t want to think that the nurse is there completely against his own will, either. After all this time, he still said yes, twice, when he asked his help. Why is that, if he doesn’t really want to be here?

“We went to feed the ducks at the pond,” the words slip through his lips. He’s spent all day with a four year old that doesn’t talk much yet. Jaemin’s not much of a conversationalist. Not that he’s much of that himself, but at this point he just wants a moment talking with someone of his own age.

Donghae gives a short laugh. “Yeah?”

“Jaemin fed them cereals. I hope we didn’t kill them.” He takes another glass of the juice. “She was...different. She thought it was funny.”

“What else did you do?” Donghae replies. Hyukjae’s not really sure if he’s actually interested or not, but he doesn’t really give a damn.

“She draws. I think she’s pretty good. She likes to watch Paw Patrol. We watched a few episodes.”

For Donghae’s surprise, Hyukjae starts taking plates for them, then glasses, utensils.

“How was your day?”

Donghae watches Hyukjae’s back, biting his lip.

“Uneventful,” he mutters back. The conversation with Jessica is still clear in his mind. He has never really talked about all of that with anyone. Their past, even if unilaterally, his feelings, Hyukjae’s accident… If he’s completely honest, he finds himself wanting to ask Hyukjae about it. But would asking be disastreous? Is he too much of a random ‘stranger’ to ask? Would Hyukjae get mad?

Instead, he asks: “Do you have any coffee?”

“Sure,” Hyukjae looks a little confused. Uneventful? He couldn’t say anything else? He opens one of the higher cabinet doors, taking out a bag of coffee. From the lower row, he finds the coffee maker he hasn’t used in a while. He only drinks coffee occassionally. Mostly hungover. He makes a pot, and clicks the machine on. Donghae cleans after himelf, putting the knives and the board into the sink, the spices back to their places, and takes two mugs for the coffee.

Before the coffee is ready, they don’t talk. Donghae’s too frustrated towards his bubbling curiosity. Hyukjae wonders if making Donghae stay is only torture for him.

Jaemin still asleep, the kitchen smelling like coffee, Donghae pours the mugs full. He’s the first one to sit down at the table. Hyukjae leans against the fridge, the mug on his hand. Donghae doesn’t look any less put together than in the morning. And how does the other know he drinks coffee, even if rarely?

“Why...” Donghae’s voice splits the kitchen. He’s too curious. Probably suicidal when he finally drops the question. “Why did you drop out of school?”

Where is this coming from? Why is he interested? After all these years... Donghae has not asked a single personal thing about Hyukjae except things that were about the girl in some way. Why this? Why did he have to turn the knife in the old wound? But it doesn’t look like he’s doing it purely out of spite. Donghae sounds careful; he knows he’s walking on thin ice. Yet he asked anyway.

Hyukjae feels the walls bulding up higher around him. That time of his life was the worst. He rarely thinks about it, because it makes him feel so worthless. A failure. Which he is, but someway he’s learnead to live with it. But it still is a subject that makes him vulnerable.

“Why do you ask?” Hyukjae replies, voice low, suspicious. He shifts against the wall that covers the side of the fridge.

Donghae gives him a rare, softer look. He fingers the pen, steering his eyes to the newspaper where Jaemin has scribbled something. He can’t quite make out what it is.

“I just… I haven’t heard it from you.”

“And you care what I have to say?” Hyukjae’s nose wrinkles.

“I—“

Hyukjae cuts Donghae off.

“I was in the hospital for three weeks after the guy attacked me. I didn’t wake up for a week, I was so badly beaten. I don’t even remember what he did to me,” he starts, stiff, but his voice gives the annoyance away. “He thought I killed his sister because I was drunk, like everyone else. You think so too, don’t you? Everyone was talking about it, what else could you think?” Hyukjae continues, more angrily, gritting his jaw. He finally sits down on the other chair, opposite to Donghae. “But what do you know? You weren’t there.”

“Hyukjae...”

“For your information, I wasn’t drunk,” he snarls. “I was driving my father’s car, I was coming back to Seoul because I went to see my sister after I heard Jiah was pregnant. It was late, I had driven for hours.”

Donghae turns the coffee mug, feeling a punch inside his stomach.

“I fell asleep. Asleep! For a split second! I woke up and saw the woman crossing the street. I didn’t have time to react. I crashed her, yes. She died in the hospital... She’s dead because I fell asleep on the wheel!”

Donghae stares at him, afraid, confused. The realization that he’s only trusted other people’s words hits him. Hyukjae’s angry, and for a reason.

“Involuntary manslaughter. But the woman’s family filed a lawsuit. You know my dad’s a lawyer. I won, but I had to pay compensation. A lot of it. I had gotten my girlfriend pregnant and then my dad needs to save my ass in court. They weren’t happy. It was too much for them to realize their son is a fuck up who makes a mistake after another,” he fumes, but his body is rigid. His eyes are dark, blazing. He feels betrayed. By everyone. He was completely alone when everything just fell down.

“I dropped out because my parents refused to pay my college after the compensation and my medical bills. I didn’t have the money to pay it myself, and I’d already missed three weeks of school. I couldn’t walk for a month without crutches or a wheelchair. When I finally could, dad threw me out. We haven’t talked after that. I lived with my sister for a while. I’ve had some odd jobs to pay the bills after that. My sister helps me out, whenever she can. So there. There you have it. The truth. For once in my life, I wasn’t drunk. I was a mess—and I’m still a mess. Now I have another mistake to take care of.” But the last sentence, he regrets immediately. Jaemin may have been a mistake at the beginning, but now… This time he will deal with it himself. He takes a peek that the girl is still sleeping. She doesn’t need to hear these things. Jaemin… She is the only thing that matters now.

He tries to catch his breath, fingers clasping around the mug so hard his knuckles have gone white. He didn’t give Donghae a chance to talk because he thought the man would just… Start making excuses. He has gone through hell. Donghae has no idea what it has been like.

Donghae is completely silent. His coffee seems a lot more interesting to him than Hyukjae. But Hyukjae knows the look, he remembers it; Donghae’s beating himself up. And for once, it feels like a round win. For once, someone knows the truth. He can’t count the people he’s talked to about this, because there are none. For once, Donghae has to admit he’s been wrong about him. But will hearing about it change anything? Is Donghae still ashamed of him? At first, when Donghae started hanging out with the soccer team, Hyukjae had thought Donghae was just busy. But then it felt more like avoidance, which lead to him thinking he wasn’t cool enough anymore. Donghae was someone better than him. He wasn’t enough.

He’s never been enough.

A shaky breath reaches Hyukjae’s ears, and Donghae slides his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know,” he says. Hyukjae barely hears him. He scoffs back.

“Of course you didn’t.” Hyukjae walks away from the table, putting his empty mug into the sink. He doesn’t say anything when he disappears from the kitchen.

It takes a few minutes, until Donghae hears the shower running.

“Fuck,” he curses, so quiet that he only hears it himself.

The rest of the evening is quiet. Hyukjae tries to communicate with the girl, they watch some more Paw Patrol before it’s time to go to bed. But Donghae’s not tired. He couldn’t possibly sleep after that.

He knows he owes Hyukjae and apology, but he is too much of a coward to say it.

The next day, Donghae has an even earlier shift. He doesn’t wake Hyukjae up when he leaves at 7:15am.

When Hyukjae wakes up, a few hours later, he finds a yellow post-it note on the kitchen table.

There’s porridge in the fridge. Just reheat it. I’ll be back around 5pm.

With a sigh, Hyukjae goes to put the porridge in the microwave.