| 16 (1/2)

. . sixteen . .  “How are you holding up?”

Hyukjae sits at the dinner table, holding a packet of ice over his eye and nose. It’s been a few hours since Donghae’s mother showed up at his apartment, and asked if they wanted to spend the night at their place; the woman had generously offered to look after Jaemin for the rest of the day, so Hyukjae could have a moment to rest.

Mrs. Lee had cooked them lunch, and the delicious scent still remains in the kitchen that’s at least three times bigger than his own. The woman leaning her jaw against her palm, observes Hyukjae across the table. Jaemin’s still napping, now brought to the guest room next to the kitchen, and even if Hyukjae knows there’s nothing to worry about, he feels a little unsettled when the girl’s not in his sight. His head is so full of garbage, all the thoughts and emotions bundled up and giving him a headache.

So how on earth is he supposed to describe how he feels?

“I don’t know,” he finally grumbles, voice a little unsteady. The painkillers Donghae has given him have eased all the pain all over his body, but the distress inside hasn’t lessened. The bile on his throat hasn’t gone away. The churning down on his stomach is still there, too. But he’s grateful for the help Donghae’s mother has offered them. He doesn’t think he has any energy left for anything else. For the first time in a while, he has the opportunity to take a breath.

He doesn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching, until Donghae opens his mouth at the doorstep.

“I found something to prop your wrist with,” the brunet notes, “Since mom forgot to bring everything I asked for.” Donghae gives her mother a look of disapproval, as she had frogotten to bring any of the medical supplies to Hyukjae’s place.

Hyukjae gazes up to the male, looking at the wooden splint with a grimace. “Is that really necessary?”

Donghae sits down on the chair next to him, taking Hyukjae’s hand on to his own.

“It will heal faster if it keeps steady,” he mutters, placing the splint against the wrist and putting a bandage over it. “You’d just make it worse if I don’t put this on.”

“Fine,” Hyukjae scoffs, eyeing the splint.

“How’s your head?”

“Still aching,” Hyukjae replies, but the ache is rather manageable. He’s more worried about the fact how emotional he feels inside. He’s not one to express his feelings, especially the more personal ones. This time, everything that has happened, has hit a bit too close to home. For the first time it is a bit too much, the deeply hid emotions lurking beyond the appearances, waiting for him to crack.

Donghae’s mother watches them, until she stands up to bring her empty tea cup to the sink.

“I’ll go to make a bed for you,” she says with a comforting smile.

Hyukjae nods, relieved that she’s asked for them to stay the night. At the moment, he wants to be anywhere else than home.

“Thanks. I could use a nap,” he mutters. He’s gotten quite used to the afternoon naps with his daughter, and today, he feels especially weary and ready to sink on to a mattress.

The woman watches her son for a moment, who’s currently collecting the spare bandages away.

“Donghae would you come help me with it?” she asks.

Donghae turns to look at her, shrugging. “Sure.”

Upstairs, as Donghae puts the pillows on top of the made bed, she speaks again, but Donghae’s already seen it coming.

“You should talk with him,” she says, giving him a pleading look.

Donghae bites the insides of his cheeks.

The woman sighs. “He’s had a hell of a day.”

“I know, mom,” Donghae hisses, sitting on the bed. “I just...” he starts, but he doesn’t know how to keep going.

“Hyukjae trusts you. He needs a friend, and you do care about him, so why are you trying so hard to push him away?” she asks, although she thinks she knows the reason. Donghae is her son after all, and in her eyes Donghae is very obvious, whereas Hyukjae is the oblivious one.

“Mom, I…” Donghae swallows, although there’s nothing to swallow. He knows he should talk with him, he doesn’t know how to. He wants to, but he’s too afraid of so many things. Especially of himself.

“Sweetie,” she sits next to him, as Donghae leans down and buries his face into his hands, frustrated. “You pushed him away in high school on purpose, didn’t you?” she continues, placing her hand on her son’s shoulder lovingly.

“Mom,” Donghae grunts in slight annoyance, letting out a tired exhale. He has never talked about it. He’s never told her about it, yet she knows. She always does.

“You know I love you, no matter what?” she notes gently, observing her son who shifts under the touch, uncomfortable. “Be honest with me, okay?”

“About what?” he asks, giving her a side eye.

“Do you love him?”

Donghae stiffens, cursing under his breath.

“Donghae, when you were kids, Hyukjae was your best friend. No one else made you happier than him. I’ve never seen you so happy. And that’s the only thing that matters to me—me and your father both. That you’re happy. And now that he’s back in your life, you look at him the same way, although you try to hide it very well.”

“Oh god, mom,” Donghae whines, massaging his forehead behind his hands. He couldn’t look her in the eye; she makes him feel like a fifteen year old again instead of his actual age of 23.

“You’re clearly important to Hyukjae as well. And he trusts you, but as I see it, he can’t see through you like I do. To be honest, I think he’s a little afraid of you.”

Donghae scoffs, finally courageous enough to look at his mother. “Afraid—of me? As if.”

“What I mean is…” she emphasizes, taking the young man’s hand to her own. “That he’s afraid that you’re going to leave. Again. He seems very insecure around you. Does he know why you stopped being friends?”

Donghae furrows his eyebrows, a thoughtful wrinkle appearing to his forehead.

“No…”

“So if he’d done the same to you, how would you feel?”

Donghae blinks a few times. He never thought about it from Hyukjae’s point of view.

“I… That there was something wrong with me….”

“He probably thinks the same way, you know.” She pets Donghae’s hair, and smiles comfortingly when their gazes meet. “What if he never stopped questioning what he did wrong to cause your friendship to break apart? Be his friend. He wants you to be.”

Donghae stares outside through the window, seeing how it rains again.

She stands up, pecking the young man’s hair swiftly. “I’ve said this before, but I’ll said it again. Just give him a chance. Besides, you’re not kids anymore.” She gives him one last look, a rather meaningful one.

When she leaves the room to go back downstairs, Donghae’s left alone. He can’t believe his mother; like that, he doesn’t need to hide who he is anymore. She’s known all along, and he’s been stupid enough to delay and delay the talk that their son isn’t straight. Now that the cat is out of the bag, he’s able to breathe a little easier – but coming out of the closet has been the easy part. The hard part is letting himself to feel the things he felt.

And he starts to wonder, if he should tell Hyukjae the truth; the reason why he let their friendship wither away. His mother’s words doesn’t leave him alone either, and it’s the one thing that’s hard to grasp to. Hyukjae afraid of him leaving? Why? Why does he want him in his life, after all he’s done? He doesn’t want to go anywhere. No, if it’s up to him – but is it?

Hyukjae has wanted to nap for even a few minutes, but after lying down on the bed he hasn’t been able to shut his eyes. Jiah, the fight, the police, even his neighbors and the fact that his neighbor is actually one of the moms from the park, doesn’t leave him alone. He can’t stop the thoughts racing inside his head; the doubt if he’s ever going to be good enough for his daughter; if he could be any better than Jiah was. He can’t find the confidence to believe in himself, for the sake of the girl. The bile on his throat hasn’t left him, it’s still there, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Frustrated, he finally jolts up from the bed, deciding to go see if Jaemin is awake. The image of his scared, crying bundle of daughter keeps haunting him. How could he ever make anything right?

Hyukjae walks down the stairs to the first floor, but it’s quiet. He’s only able to hear some distant noises that sounds like a tv. As he reaches the hall, and takes a look towards the spacious living room, he sees the open tv and the back of Donghae’s head on the other side of the couch. He walks up to him, taking a look around. The couch is light gray, set in the middle of the room in front of the tv that’s hanging from the wall between a row of bookshelves. On the right he sees the long windows, that show the scene of their terrace and the backyard. He notices the rain has finally stopped.

“Hey,” he grumbles with a tired voice. “Where’s everyone?” And by everyone, he means his daughter.

Donghae turns to look at Hyukjae, who’s face is still bruised and scratched up, but the worst swelling has already come down.

“Mom took her out for a while,” he answers, facing back to the tv, legs raised on top of the coffee table. Hyukjae can’t focus enough to figure out the show that’s running.

“Where?”

“Probably the park nearby,” Donghae notes.

Hyukjae goes around the couch, and lets himself fall down on it, next to Donghae.

“How was she?”

Donghae turns to look at his old friend for a moment. “Better when she woke up. Kept asking about you, but we told her you were a little tired. Mom got her occupied enough, so you could sleep.”

The older male doesn’t answer back. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest, staring at the tv numbly. Almost half an hour goes by before neither of them says another word, and all the while Donghae has tried to make himself to execute what his mother has suggested. Talking. Not a big word itself, but what it might unleash is a different thing.

“How… How are you?” he finally asks, shutting the tv down without asking Hyukjae’s opinion.

Hyukjae’s throat keeps burning as he stares at the blackened screen in front of them.

“What do you mean?” he rumbles. He can’t quite take in Donghae’s question. He doesn’t think Donghae wants to know.

“I… I’m just asking how you feel. After...what happened with Jiah,” Donghae replies, a little cautious of his words.

Hyukjae sighs, leaning more into the couch’s armrest. He takes a look of one of the bite marks on his arm. There’s so many thoughts, so many fears, emotions and questions he hasn’t let out before. There hasn’t been anyone to talk about any of them. Now Donghae is asking, but does he want to know? To know what keeps him up at night? How uncertain he is? About nothing and everything?

“I don’t know,” he starts, wavering. “I really don’t know.”

But Donghae waits.

Hyukjae takes a look at the brunet, swallowing. He takes the other’s patience as a sign to keep on talking.

“I… I didn’t think she could be that bad. When I didn’t allow her to see the kid, she went… Nuts. I didn’t think she’d go that far.” He takes a breath, collecting his thoughts, which are a mess. “I can’t stop thinking that what if she’d hurt the girl instead of me. And all that… Everything… How am I ever going to be good enough for the kid?”

Donghae sees how Hyukjae bites his lips tight, and it makes him do the same. But the last sentence surprises him a little. He didn’t think Hyukjae would second guess himself so much.

“I’ve never been so afraid for anyone before,” Hyukjae exhales, clenching his fist. “What if I mess everything up again? I don’t… I don’t want to lose her too. Everyone else’s… Already gone.”

The silence settles down again for ten minutes, until Donghae stands up. He stops next to Hyukjae, giving him a questioning look.

“Do you want a beer?”

“What?”

“Do you want a beer? I could have one, thought you might want one too.”

Hyukjae furrows his brows, as he stares at Donghae. It starts to hit him, that even Donghae is human. He’s not perfect, even he likes his beer and fast food and carbs and whatever the hell he wanted from time to time. And although Hyukjae used to party a lot, it doesn’t make him an alcoholic. He can very well handle his alcohol when he wants, it isn’t a problem. And for real, he could use one right now.

“Sure.”

Donghae has noticed how quiet Hyukjae has been after the incident. But as he ponders it further, he starts to realize it’s not just about Jiah. It’s been a rough week. Hyukjae’s life has turned upside down in a matter of days; he’s had to take responsibility over something he never thought he would. He’s been the only person in Hyukjae’s daily life during that time, and it seems what Hyukjae has said before is true. There is no one else in his life who he could turn to. He hasn’t seen friends asking how he is, not even a phone call.

Donghae grits his teeth, as he blames himself for acting so harsh towards him, and takes two bottles from the fridge. As he walks back into the living room, he hands a beer for Hyukjae and sits next to him.

“You’re not going to lose her,” he finally replies, and Hyukjae looks at him with glossy, doubtful eyes.

“Do you even believe what you say?” Hyukjae grunts.

“I mean it. You’re different with her,” Donghae says, searching for the next words, “You… Those bruises and scratches and that splint on your wrist tells a lot.” The bottle cap hisses as the younger opens his own.

They aren’t on the same wavelengths yet when it comes to talking.

“What I’m trying to say… You fought for her. You were protecting her. That’s what… What dad’s are supposed to do,” he explains, lowering his gaze onto his lap. He isn’t very good at making the other feel better, but he hopes his words would mean something.

It takes a moment before Hyukjae answers.

“You think?”

“I do. You’ll make mistakes… Like everyone else.”

It’s hard to believe Donghae would actually mean it. He has been so adamant about it being a huge mistake to begin with. Would he change his mind so easy?

Donghae watches Hyukjae, hearing the deep inhale and seeing that his attempt to make the other feel better didn’t take. Hyukjae fiddles the bottle, his eyes hauled on to it, and it’s like there’s a dark cloud glooming over him, making him doubt everything. It’s rare, seeing that side of Hyukjae. He’s gotten so used to the confident one, who didn’t care what others thought. But Hyukjae isn’t as tough as Donghae thought he is.