Mirrors
Title: Mirrors
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: angst, romance
Length: 1,680k
Rating: G
Summary: Even when Jongin leaves, he's never truly gone.
Getting out of bed was a challenge in itself, and for Kyungsoo, who had been depressed as of late, he was proud of himself for even making it out bed for the first time that week. Work was as bland as ever-a continuously tedious task that had him loosing his sanity before lunch-and the ashy winter skies of Seoul didn’t help either.
The steady drone of rain hitting the roof is almost hypnotizing, a trance which is only broken when Kyungsoo finally sees the glaring red numbers and the sickly sweet picture of kittens in a wicker basket. January 17 it read; a good two months since Jongin had left, leaving nothing more than a faint trace of his cologne and his old razor that Kyungsoo still refused to throw out. The calendar served as a bitter reminder to him that, despite his world coming to a complete and utter halt, the outside one was continuing to look forward, without even so much as sparing a glance back.
Kyungsoo’s still not exactly sure why Jongin left. He tried to keep their relationship a healthy, functioning one; they had their ups and downs, but Kyungsoo thinks he did the best a busy, workingman could.
"Was it because he met someone better looking? Someone who made more money?" (These were the only things Kyungsoo could come up one drunken night, some weeks later, after Jongin’s presence was just starting to fade).
A minute goes by, and Kyungsoo hasn't moved from his position on the bed.
It's going to be ok, he tells himself, whispering it like a prayer with the faint hope that maybe if he says it enough, it'll come true.
--
(He was a fool to think that he could go back to the way he was before Jongin had entered (no, not entered, crashed into) his life, and
twisted him up into the mess he is now. But he was gone now, and probably, for good.)
--
The alarm bursts to life at ten sharp, bustling with the traffic of the hour, and the forecast for the day, signaling for Kyungsoo to get up.
Warm April sunlight peering through the curtain is a nice change from the dreary haze that had persisted for the last 3 months.
Kyungsoo limply shuffles over to the circular mirror hanging above the sink in his closet sized bathroom to do his hair and brush his teeth; Maybe after he will go for a jog in the park or a bike ride around the city-another attempt for him to try and regain some routine and normalcy from his pre-jongin break up lifestyle.
(Things haven’t really gotten better, but he wasn't going to try and contact Jongin at this point. He's not sure how he would pick up the pieces if he had to face the reality that it actually was over.)
He lets out a drawn sigh, coming up with a list of things he needs to shop for this weekend when he goes out. The plastic white smile on the toothpaste tube seems to mock him as he uncaps it. As always, he hesitates to reach for his toothbrush, which is leaning against a blue razor that has remained untouched for what seems like endless months now.
When he finally looks up at the mirror, he blinks twice, not exactly sure what he’s seeing.
A slender face with a sharp, defined jaw, and two deep brown irises stare back at him curiously. Instead of Kyungsoo’s own heart shaped lips, a set of fuller, thicker lips are there in it’s place, as well as light tan skin that always contrasted beautifully against Kyungsoo’s own pasty tone. Messy brown hair sticks up in all directions, but in an attractive way-not one that Kyungsoo’s hair could ever. What should be his own outstretched hand is instead a trembling tan one, with long slender fingers that Kyungsoo had always admired when they would lace their fingers together.
Kyungsoo lets his eyes wander the image in front of him, the one he had been longing to see for months now. He darts from detail to detail as though it's his first time ever seeing the man, never lingering too long on one spot, in the fear that if he does, it'll break the spell and the Jongin in front of him will dissipate back into the dream he was starting to become.
Jongin really was breathtaking; He had thought so from the very moment he had laid eyes on him at their fateful meeting one warm June evening at a concert in the park.
Did he always have that crooked grin? Were his cheekbones always that high?
Kyungsoo pauses, trying to visualize it, reflecting on the times he would study Jongin's face as he slept soundly in their bed on lazy Sunday mornings. It's getting hard to remember.
He also doesn't remember those deep-set lines that adorned the corners of his eyes: clearly evidence of sleep deprivation and stress.
Was Jongin worried about something?
Kyungsoo frowns, his heart aching and his head throbbing as he tries to remember the last time he had asked Jongin about work, school, or his dance students. He's only able to draw up distant memories of his boyfriend’s late night returns, the ones where he was so tired that he barely manages to find the bed before collapsing from exhaustion.
No, he isn’t able to remember any more than this because he was always too busy thinking about school. He was always too wired up on coffee to notice that Jongin was smiling less. His job always kept his thoughts consumed, leaving no room for him to wonder if Jongin was ok.
Kyungsoo’s gaze hardens, the one in the mirror emulating it perfectly.
A few minutes have passed now, and Kyungsoo is still standing in front of the mirror, toothpaste in one hand and toothbrush in the other. He looses himself in the memories, just as he starts to feel himself being lost in the polished gleam of the illusion in front of him.
The shapely lips in the mirror are moving now, a brassy voice cutting through the silence. “If you’re not going to do it right, don’t do it at all.” “Do I have to do everything myself?” “Why are you so useless?”
The word are harsh, yet familiar to Kyungsoo. After all, they were his own. His eyes widen in surprise, body going numb when he finally hears the voice he had come to love so dearly. The words weighed so much heavier when Jongin said it; it could always be Kyungsoo's guilty consciousness weighing him down though.
“Is that why you left?" The lips in the mirror move again, this time matched with a melodious voice instead. It's so much easier for Kyungsoo to pin point the blame, narrow it down to one thing, so that when he does hear it, he can ignore the truth.
Kyungsoo stares at the reflection, waiting for an answer.
But just as mirrors do, the image stares back, brows furrowing impatiently.
(It’s childish, but Kyungsoo can’t help the anger that starts to burn in his chest when doesn’t get any answer)
The clock continues to inch foward, and Kyungsoo continues to stare. He’s not sure how long he has been sitting there for, but he’s late for work.
--
Of course, the spell finally breaks when the clock strikes twelve.
In a dream like mist, the edges of Jongin’s face start to blur and haze at the edge, and he’s starting to look less like Kim Jongin and more like Do Kyungsoo. Tan skin is starting to lose its hue, the coloring seeping into pores and out of sight. Or maybe it’s not because a spell has been broken, but because Kyungsoo’s eyes are starting to swell with tears, distorting everything this way and that. The brown orbs staring back at him are starting to shine as well, but unlike Kyungsoo’s own lips that are pressed into a thin line, Jongin’s are curled up into a small smile.
Why couldn’t he see it before?
Jongin had filled the spaces and cracks that littered his insides. Being loved for the little things that no one else did, was something he had so stupidly took for granted. Stares of adoration even when Kyungsoo felt bloated and disgusting went unnoticed. Tender hugs and sweet embraces when he was feeling down about his job, or after a fight with his mother were never given a second thought. Simple things, like a note on the fridge, or a text with nothing more than three little words ‘I love you’ were ignored.
Kyungsoo feels small, like a child who has just realized how pissed off mommy or daddy really is. It was the silent kind of anger that burned the worst, because you didn't even know they were mad to begin with. You could just tell by the stiff way they gripped the steering wheel, the way you could almost cut the tension in their shoulders with a knife.
"Do you see it now?" The ghostly reflection is solemn, despite still donning the small, amused smile.
"Yea, I see it now." Their lips are blended together messily, meshing together in an ununiform fashion; the outline of Kyungsoo's own face slightly distinguishable from Jongin's as they start to look less like one entity, molding back into their proper forms.
It took him one month of anger, one month of denial, and three of regret to understand.
With tears trailing down his cheeks, Kyungsoo finally smiles back at Jongin. His other half smiles wider, and with a sense of finality-Jongin is gone, disappearing into the glare of the mirror.
A few more minutes pass, but now it’s just the mirror and Kyungsoo.
--
He makes sure to send out a text before setting off for work.
It’s me. Can we talk?
(Jongin has been there all along, parallel on the other side, and he always will be.)
Pairing: Kai/Kyungsoo
Genre: angst, romance
Length: 1,680k
Rating: G
Summary: Even when Jongin leaves, he's never truly gone.
Getting out of bed was a challenge in itself, and for Kyungsoo, who had been depressed as of late, he was proud of himself for even making it out bed for the first time that week. Work was as bland as ever-a continuously tedious task that had him loosing his sanity before lunch-and the ashy winter skies of Seoul didn’t help either.
The steady drone of rain hitting the roof is almost hypnotizing, a trance which is only broken when Kyungsoo finally sees the glaring red numbers and the sickly sweet picture of kittens in a wicker basket. January 17 it read; a good two months since Jongin had left, leaving nothing more than a faint trace of his cologne and his old razor that Kyungsoo still refused to throw out. The calendar served as a bitter reminder to him that, despite his world coming to a complete and utter halt, the outside one was continuing to look forward, without even so much as sparing a glance back.
Kyungsoo’s still not exactly sure why Jongin left. He tried to keep their relationship a healthy, functioning one; they had their ups and downs, but Kyungsoo thinks he did the best a busy, workingman could.
"Was it because he met someone better looking? Someone who made more money?" (These were the only things Kyungsoo could come up one drunken night, some weeks later, after Jongin’s presence was just starting to fade).
A minute goes by, and Kyungsoo hasn't moved from his position on the bed.
It's going to be ok, he tells himself, whispering it like a prayer with the faint hope that maybe if he says it enough, it'll come true.
--
(He was a fool to think that he could go back to the way he was before Jongin had entered (no, not entered, crashed into) his life, and
twisted him up into the mess he is now. But he was gone now, and probably, for good.)
--
The alarm bursts to life at ten sharp, bustling with the traffic of the hour, and the forecast for the day, signaling for Kyungsoo to get up.
Warm April sunlight peering through the curtain is a nice change from the dreary haze that had persisted for the last 3 months.
Kyungsoo limply shuffles over to the circular mirror hanging above the sink in his closet sized bathroom to do his hair and brush his teeth; Maybe after he will go for a jog in the park or a bike ride around the city-another attempt for him to try and regain some routine and normalcy from his pre-jongin break up lifestyle.
(Things haven’t really gotten better, but he wasn't going to try and contact Jongin at this point. He's not sure how he would pick up the pieces if he had to face the reality that it actually was over.)
He lets out a drawn sigh, coming up with a list of things he needs to shop for this weekend when he goes out. The plastic white smile on the toothpaste tube seems to mock him as he uncaps it. As always, he hesitates to reach for his toothbrush, which is leaning against a blue razor that has remained untouched for what seems like endless months now.
When he finally looks up at the mirror, he blinks twice, not exactly sure what he’s seeing.
A slender face with a sharp, defined jaw, and two deep brown irises stare back at him curiously. Instead of Kyungsoo’s own heart shaped lips, a set of fuller, thicker lips are there in it’s place, as well as light tan skin that always contrasted beautifully against Kyungsoo’s own pasty tone. Messy brown hair sticks up in all directions, but in an attractive way-not one that Kyungsoo’s hair could ever. What should be his own outstretched hand is instead a trembling tan one, with long slender fingers that Kyungsoo had always admired when they would lace their fingers together.
Kyungsoo lets his eyes wander the image in front of him, the one he had been longing to see for months now. He darts from detail to detail as though it's his first time ever seeing the man, never lingering too long on one spot, in the fear that if he does, it'll break the spell and the Jongin in front of him will dissipate back into the dream he was starting to become.
Jongin really was breathtaking; He had thought so from the very moment he had laid eyes on him at their fateful meeting one warm June evening at a concert in the park.
Did he always have that crooked grin? Were his cheekbones always that high?
Kyungsoo pauses, trying to visualize it, reflecting on the times he would study Jongin's face as he slept soundly in their bed on lazy Sunday mornings. It's getting hard to remember.
He also doesn't remember those deep-set lines that adorned the corners of his eyes: clearly evidence of sleep deprivation and stress.
Was Jongin worried about something?
Kyungsoo frowns, his heart aching and his head throbbing as he tries to remember the last time he had asked Jongin about work, school, or his dance students. He's only able to draw up distant memories of his boyfriend’s late night returns, the ones where he was so tired that he barely manages to find the bed before collapsing from exhaustion.
No, he isn’t able to remember any more than this because he was always too busy thinking about school. He was always too wired up on coffee to notice that Jongin was smiling less. His job always kept his thoughts consumed, leaving no room for him to wonder if Jongin was ok.
Kyungsoo’s gaze hardens, the one in the mirror emulating it perfectly.
A few minutes have passed now, and Kyungsoo is still standing in front of the mirror, toothpaste in one hand and toothbrush in the other. He looses himself in the memories, just as he starts to feel himself being lost in the polished gleam of the illusion in front of him.
The shapely lips in the mirror are moving now, a brassy voice cutting through the silence. “If you’re not going to do it right, don’t do it at all.” “Do I have to do everything myself?” “Why are you so useless?”
The word are harsh, yet familiar to Kyungsoo. After all, they were his own. His eyes widen in surprise, body going numb when he finally hears the voice he had come to love so dearly. The words weighed so much heavier when Jongin said it; it could always be Kyungsoo's guilty consciousness weighing him down though.
“Is that why you left?" The lips in the mirror move again, this time matched with a melodious voice instead. It's so much easier for Kyungsoo to pin point the blame, narrow it down to one thing, so that when he does hear it, he can ignore the truth.
Kyungsoo stares at the reflection, waiting for an answer.
But just as mirrors do, the image stares back, brows furrowing impatiently.
(It’s childish, but Kyungsoo can’t help the anger that starts to burn in his chest when doesn’t get any answer)
The clock continues to inch foward, and Kyungsoo continues to stare. He’s not sure how long he has been sitting there for, but he’s late for work.
--
Of course, the spell finally breaks when the clock strikes twelve.
In a dream like mist, the edges of Jongin’s face start to blur and haze at the edge, and he’s starting to look less like Kim Jongin and more like Do Kyungsoo. Tan skin is starting to lose its hue, the coloring seeping into pores and out of sight. Or maybe it’s not because a spell has been broken, but because Kyungsoo’s eyes are starting to swell with tears, distorting everything this way and that. The brown orbs staring back at him are starting to shine as well, but unlike Kyungsoo’s own lips that are pressed into a thin line, Jongin’s are curled up into a small smile.
Why couldn’t he see it before?
Jongin had filled the spaces and cracks that littered his insides. Being loved for the little things that no one else did, was something he had so stupidly took for granted. Stares of adoration even when Kyungsoo felt bloated and disgusting went unnoticed. Tender hugs and sweet embraces when he was feeling down about his job, or after a fight with his mother were never given a second thought. Simple things, like a note on the fridge, or a text with nothing more than three little words ‘I love you’ were ignored.
Kyungsoo feels small, like a child who has just realized how pissed off mommy or daddy really is. It was the silent kind of anger that burned the worst, because you didn't even know they were mad to begin with. You could just tell by the stiff way they gripped the steering wheel, the way you could almost cut the tension in their shoulders with a knife.
"Do you see it now?" The ghostly reflection is solemn, despite still donning the small, amused smile.
"Yea, I see it now." Their lips are blended together messily, meshing together in an ununiform fashion; the outline of Kyungsoo's own face slightly distinguishable from Jongin's as they start to look less like one entity, molding back into their proper forms.
It took him one month of anger, one month of denial, and three of regret to understand.
With tears trailing down his cheeks, Kyungsoo finally smiles back at Jongin. His other half smiles wider, and with a sense of finality-Jongin is gone, disappearing into the glare of the mirror.
A few more minutes pass, but now it’s just the mirror and Kyungsoo.
--
He makes sure to send out a text before setting off for work.
It’s me. Can we talk?
(Jongin has been there all along, parallel on the other side, and he always will be.)