What forever feels like -- 4
What forever feels like; Jinki/Minho; G
note: Kind of long again. Oh but I'll say it now, in exchange, chapter 5 will be very short.
prologue | one | two | three | four
Chapter four
In front of my house, the two of us managed to whittle away a good three and a half hours.
Sometimes we stood and sometimes we squatted. Sometimes we gave up caring about cleanliness and just plopped ourselves down on the ground (even though Minho was wearing his favorite white shorts).
We played with our fingers, tugged on the ends of our hairs, fiddled with our shoelaces. We watched every cloud that inched across the sky, inspected every ant that marched past our toes. We dawdled, looking for any and every chance to prolong our time together.
To delay the inevitable goodbye.
......
I racked my brains for every joke in the book. Regardless of whether or not I had already told it before, regardless of whether or not it was actually funny, each and time every, Minho would play along and obligingly chuckle. And each and every time, there would be a pang in my heart. It was just like him to laugh if only because I needed him to laugh. Just like him to indulge me, to spoil me. As if I weren't the older one between the two of us.
I wanted to say thank you. I swear I did. For what? There was no what. Just thank you. Thank you. Really, truly, thank you. But instead, when I opened my mouth, out popped a joke lamer than the one before.
The whole thing was an awkward, awkward affair. And if it were any other day, I would have been embarrassed and I would have run away.
But that day, I would rather spend the rest of my life stuck in that awkwardness. Because that awkwardness had him in it.
......
I borrowed Minho's bicycle without waiting for his consent and I rode in circles around him. It was my first time riding a bike since the accident two years ago. How much fear flowed through my veins? At what speed was my heart racing? These are things I will take to the grave.
Loop after loop. Circle after circle.
Big ones and small ones.
Figure eights and infinity signs.
He was the sun and I his faithful planet. By the same token, I was the sun and he my loyal sunflower.
Loop after loop. Circle after circle.
I lost count before long.
We stayed like that for a good while: me, leisurely and aimlessly riding around on his bike; and him, silent and rooted to the spot, following me every second of the way with his eyes.
I didn't have a chance to see if he would get dizzy though.
Before I knew it, I had slowed down too much, to the point that I nearly fell over. Minho's hands shot out lightning fast and steadied the bike with a cry of careful! while I slid off the seat with a sheepishly mumbled apology.
......
Standing facing each other for the umpteenth time, drilling holes into Minho's feet with my eyes, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans and felt around. Something round greeted with my roaming fingertips. I closed my hand around the object and pulled it out.
Ah, correction: objects.
What lay flat in the center of my palm were two pieces of candy.
I gazed at them with a mystified expression.
I had no clue how they got there.
After half a minute of seemingly useless consideration, I extended my hand towards Minho. He didn't ask questions, didn't make a face, didn't refuse. Instead, he wordlessly accepted my humble offering and picked up one of the candies. The wrapper was old and dirty; I could even see a few bits of eraser dust clinging on. And the candy inside had evidently undergone many cycles of partially melting and then solidifying again.
For how long did they stay in my pocket, forgotten?
I couldn't remember.
Sucking on the slightly odd-tasting candy, the two of us started kicking around the nonexistent pebbles that littered the ground in generous numbers. Every now and then, we would exchange a few meaningless words. A few inconsequential sentences.
By tacit agreement, we put off mentioning the monster.
The thing that lurked below the surface of all the insignificant pretty stuff.
The thing that would hurt.
And then there was silence.
Until the setting sun dyed the whole world into shades of brilliant orange and fiery red.
Until only the fading contrail that divided the heavens remained a pure silvery white.
......
"You're really leaving, huh?"
"...Mm."
"......"
"......"
"You remember my telephone number, right?"
"Mm-hm."
"Did you write it down somewhere? 'Cause otherwise you might forget, you know."
"Don't worry. I wrote it down."
"I think international calls are a little expensive, but you have to call me!"
"Mm-hm. I'll talk to my mom about it."
"Alright."
"......"
"I really want to know what it's like, the place that you're moving to."
"Yeah?"
"So you have to tell me all about it."
"Okay."
"You..."
"......"
"We'll still be friends in the future, right?"
"Mm-hm."
"After you go to America, will you still come back?"
"Not right away. I'll have school and stuff. But later on...I don't know. Maybe?"
"Ah..."
"Yeah..."
"......"
"I guess I can ask my mom about it."
"Okay."
"......"
"......"
"......"
"It's kinda getting late. You should be going home."
"Mm..."
"You gotta get up real early tomorrow huh."
"Five thirty."
"You said your great-uncle is coming to pick you guys up and drive you to the city?"
"Mm-hm. Then we'll fly to Incheon. And after that we'll take a connecting flight overseas."
"Oh wow, you get to go on an airplane!"
"Mm-hm."
"That's so cool!"
"I guess."
"Ah, but it only makes sense. It's not like you can take a bus across the ocean..."
"......"
"Sorry."
"Hm?"
"I can't come and send you off tomorrow."
"It's okay."
"If only we had an airport here, then I could probably go."
"......"
"I could sneak out and then sneak back before my parents even realize it..."
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"Then...see you later?"
"See you later, hyung."
See you later.
There was no stiff handshake. No clumsy hug. No artless attempts at voicing how we felt, not even a single I'll miss you.
Only three short words.
It took only three short words that we used to say to each other at least two to three times a day to divide him permanently from me.
See you later.
Except when will we really see each other again?
Even the me now, years and years later, years and years wiser, can only make wild guesses in the dark.
Minho's retreating figure as he went home was a sight that burned my eyes. Until they teared. Until they could no longer see a single thing.
In the past, he would always turn around and wave at me. But that day he pedaled furiously fast, as if he were fleeing to save his life. In the past, I would always watch him till he disappeared from sight. But that day I couldn't endure half as long before ducking into the doorway.
In the years that followed, whenever I reminisce about our parting, I would always...
Why?
Why did I not say a single thing that truly mattered?
......
five
note: Kind of long again. Oh but I'll say it now, in exchange, chapter 5 will be very short.
prologue | one | two | three | four
Chapter four
In front of my house, the two of us managed to whittle away a good three and a half hours.
Sometimes we stood and sometimes we squatted. Sometimes we gave up caring about cleanliness and just plopped ourselves down on the ground (even though Minho was wearing his favorite white shorts).
We played with our fingers, tugged on the ends of our hairs, fiddled with our shoelaces. We watched every cloud that inched across the sky, inspected every ant that marched past our toes. We dawdled, looking for any and every chance to prolong our time together.
To delay the inevitable goodbye.
......
I racked my brains for every joke in the book. Regardless of whether or not I had already told it before, regardless of whether or not it was actually funny, each and time every, Minho would play along and obligingly chuckle. And each and every time, there would be a pang in my heart. It was just like him to laugh if only because I needed him to laugh. Just like him to indulge me, to spoil me. As if I weren't the older one between the two of us.
I wanted to say thank you. I swear I did. For what? There was no what. Just thank you. Thank you. Really, truly, thank you. But instead, when I opened my mouth, out popped a joke lamer than the one before.
The whole thing was an awkward, awkward affair. And if it were any other day, I would have been embarrassed and I would have run away.
But that day, I would rather spend the rest of my life stuck in that awkwardness. Because that awkwardness had him in it.
......
I borrowed Minho's bicycle without waiting for his consent and I rode in circles around him. It was my first time riding a bike since the accident two years ago. How much fear flowed through my veins? At what speed was my heart racing? These are things I will take to the grave.
Loop after loop. Circle after circle.
Big ones and small ones.
Figure eights and infinity signs.
He was the sun and I his faithful planet. By the same token, I was the sun and he my loyal sunflower.
Loop after loop. Circle after circle.
I lost count before long.
We stayed like that for a good while: me, leisurely and aimlessly riding around on his bike; and him, silent and rooted to the spot, following me every second of the way with his eyes.
I didn't have a chance to see if he would get dizzy though.
Before I knew it, I had slowed down too much, to the point that I nearly fell over. Minho's hands shot out lightning fast and steadied the bike with a cry of careful! while I slid off the seat with a sheepishly mumbled apology.
......
Standing facing each other for the umpteenth time, drilling holes into Minho's feet with my eyes, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans and felt around. Something round greeted with my roaming fingertips. I closed my hand around the object and pulled it out.
Ah, correction: objects.
What lay flat in the center of my palm were two pieces of candy.
I gazed at them with a mystified expression.
I had no clue how they got there.
After half a minute of seemingly useless consideration, I extended my hand towards Minho. He didn't ask questions, didn't make a face, didn't refuse. Instead, he wordlessly accepted my humble offering and picked up one of the candies. The wrapper was old and dirty; I could even see a few bits of eraser dust clinging on. And the candy inside had evidently undergone many cycles of partially melting and then solidifying again.
For how long did they stay in my pocket, forgotten?
I couldn't remember.
Sucking on the slightly odd-tasting candy, the two of us started kicking around the nonexistent pebbles that littered the ground in generous numbers. Every now and then, we would exchange a few meaningless words. A few inconsequential sentences.
By tacit agreement, we put off mentioning the monster.
The thing that lurked below the surface of all the insignificant pretty stuff.
The thing that would hurt.
And then there was silence.
Until the setting sun dyed the whole world into shades of brilliant orange and fiery red.
Until only the fading contrail that divided the heavens remained a pure silvery white.
......
"You're really leaving, huh?"
"...Mm."
"......"
"......"
"You remember my telephone number, right?"
"Mm-hm."
"Did you write it down somewhere? 'Cause otherwise you might forget, you know."
"Don't worry. I wrote it down."
"I think international calls are a little expensive, but you have to call me!"
"Mm-hm. I'll talk to my mom about it."
"Alright."
"......"
"I really want to know what it's like, the place that you're moving to."
"Yeah?"
"So you have to tell me all about it."
"Okay."
"You..."
"......"
"We'll still be friends in the future, right?"
"Mm-hm."
"After you go to America, will you still come back?"
"Not right away. I'll have school and stuff. But later on...I don't know. Maybe?"
"Ah..."
"Yeah..."
"......"
"I guess I can ask my mom about it."
"Okay."
"......"
"......"
"......"
"It's kinda getting late. You should be going home."
"Mm..."
"You gotta get up real early tomorrow huh."
"Five thirty."
"You said your great-uncle is coming to pick you guys up and drive you to the city?"
"Mm-hm. Then we'll fly to Incheon. And after that we'll take a connecting flight overseas."
"Oh wow, you get to go on an airplane!"
"Mm-hm."
"That's so cool!"
"I guess."
"Ah, but it only makes sense. It's not like you can take a bus across the ocean..."
"......"
"Sorry."
"Hm?"
"I can't come and send you off tomorrow."
"It's okay."
"If only we had an airport here, then I could probably go."
"......"
"I could sneak out and then sneak back before my parents even realize it..."
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"Then...see you later?"
"See you later, hyung."
See you later.
There was no stiff handshake. No clumsy hug. No artless attempts at voicing how we felt, not even a single I'll miss you.
Only three short words.
It took only three short words that we used to say to each other at least two to three times a day to divide him permanently from me.
See you later.
Except when will we really see each other again?
Even the me now, years and years later, years and years wiser, can only make wild guesses in the dark.
Minho's retreating figure as he went home was a sight that burned my eyes. Until they teared. Until they could no longer see a single thing.
In the past, he would always turn around and wave at me. But that day he pedaled furiously fast, as if he were fleeing to save his life. In the past, I would always watch him till he disappeared from sight. But that day I couldn't endure half as long before ducking into the doorway.
In the years that followed, whenever I reminisce about our parting, I would always...
Why?
Why did I not say a single thing that truly mattered?
......
five