Taesung
When I come home, I don't pay attention to anyone. I promised him, that I would come back. Right?
Home. I'm calling his home my own. It sounds strange, and yet it's true. I'm at home here.
Muffled voices reach me. Someone asks if I'm okay. Someone else says my name. I don't answer either of them. I just walk past, my shoulder aching, but that is the least of my concerns right now.
I take the stairs two at a time. They fixed them quickly — they're no longer glass.
I close my bedroom door harder than intended. I turn the key. The world stays outside.
The bathroom is cold. The sharp light reflects off the tiles. I lean my hands on the sink. I look at myself.
I don't see myself the same way anymore. After what I did today, I'm not the same person. I've changed. But that's not enough. I'm repulsed by the person I see in the mirror.
I look down on myself. There's something about me, that I hate. Even worse is my willingness to carry on. That rat. That rat was the last straw for me today. It's definitive proof, that my old self is gone.
I clench the scissors in my hand. It's time for a change. I let my hair down and it falls across my face and onto my shoulders. It's longer. It's grown since I've been here.
I take a strand of hair in my hand and cut it with the scissors. I cut another strand, and then another, until my hair is short and barely reaches my ears. I kept my fringe. It looks good. My features are sharp. My eyes are no longer innocent.
I open the box and take out the peroxide. I'm tired of black. I prepare the mixture according to the instructions. The ammonia-like smell of the chemical stings my nose.
I put on a pair of gloves and work the bleach into my hair gradually. Carefully. Following the instructions, I leave the mixture on my head for half an hour before washing my hair.
A completely new person with milky-coloured hair stares back at me in the mirror. Now I feel like him. I can't be blonde.
I reach for the second box and take out the dye. I repeat the whole process until I am satisfied.
Then something inside me snaps.
I don't know exactly, what breaks. There is a loud bang. Sharp and hollow. Glass shatters on the floor — maybe a mirror. And then something else. The sound echoes through the house, and I know it has been heard.
I turn on the shower. The cold water hits me before I have time to undress, but I don't bother. I sit on the ground, with my back against the wall and my knees pulled up to my chest.
The water runs down my newly dyed hair, over my face and into my clothes. I don't care.
I hear a bang as the door bursts open and someone calls my name.
„Taesung?!"
„Don't come in here!" I yell. My voice breaks, but I don't care. „Get out!"
He comes in anyway. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom and looks down at the broken glass on the floor, then glances at me. I can see him blurred through the stream of water.
„I wish I could hate you!" I yell at him. The words come out before I can stop them. „I wish I could hate you, do you understand?! Because it would be so damn easy!" I lift my head towards him. Water runs into my eyes, stinging them. „But I can't! I can't, because I like you. Because I love you!" My voice breaks completely. When did things get so complicated? How long have I known this? When did I admit it to myself?
He takes a step towards me. Then another. Suddenly, he is kneeling in front of me, just as wet as I am. „I loved you first," he says quietly. His words hit me deeply.
He reaches out his hand to me. I hesitate for just a second. I won't run away now.
I grab his wrist and pull him towards me. The water beats down on us, and the world narrows to just this moment. It's just the two of us.
I kiss him.
Not cautiously. Not hesitantly, but wholeheartedly. For the first time, I let my emotions flow without holding back.
We kiss hungrily. The water keeps running, as if trying to wash away everything we've just said. As if it wants to take us back. Then I feel his hand.
Hyunjin reaches out and turns off the tap. The silence that follows is deafening. Occasionally, a few drops fall from the shower head.
Hyunjin stands in front of me, soaked, his eyes fixed on my face as if he's memorising me again. His fingers touch the hem of my shirt. Slowly. He gives me time. I nod. He unbuttoned it and took it off. The cold air hits my skin, but his hands are warm. He's so confident. He's just waiting to see if I back down.
I don't. Not this time.
I reach for his shirt. It's heavy with water and clings to his body. I unbutton it, one button at a time. I do it slowly, as if the pace is calming me down. When I finally pull the shirt off his shoulders, he takes a deep breath.
The rest of his clothes come off easily.
It's quiet. No words. No rush. The wet clothes end up on the bathroom floor, like discarded skin. We stand facing each other, completely naked and vulnerable yet strong.
Hyunjin leans towards me and rests his forehead against mine. „If we do this," he whispers, „I won't let you go." I've been waiting for those words. In fact, I think I've been waiting for them this whole time.
„I don't want to go," I reply, before the fear of my own honesty overwhelms me.
He lifts me into his arms. Not in protest, but by choice. I press myself against him, wrap my arms around his neck and let him carry me away from the bathroom. Drops of water draw a trail behind us on the floor.
The bed welcomes us softly.
We lie there together, naked. Hyunjin props himself up on his elbows above my body. I feel his warmth, his breath, his presence. For the first time, I don't feel the need to protect myself.
I'm ready. Deep down, though, I'm afraid and asking myself a lot of questions. What will it be like? Will it hurt? Will he be gentle or rough? But I push these thoughts to the back of my mind and focus only on the two of us.
„Are you really sure about this?" I nod. So does he. He moves, crossing the thin line between us for the first time. I can see in his eyes that we both mean the same thing this time.
... ༺༻ ...
BLOOD DEBT (피의 빚)