Chapter Text
-
First peduncle. — Growing up. (The stalk of a flower.)
He's fourteen when he comes to understand what growing up means, how it can shape anyone's wants into sorrow. He watches it happen when his past grandmother passes away, leaving anything but grief in Woonhak's young heart.
He cries until the sun blurs with the moon, a bittersweet feeling holding onto his chest as he sees childhood walking away from him. It hurts not being a kid anymore.
❀
Months later, he learns to move on as well, putting his grandmother's mirror on his shelf — A quiet acceptance of death.
"You should write a song about it," Dongmin, whose father worked in the funeral ceremony, stood against the bedroom wall, watching him. "How?" He knows the older boy's talent; Dongmin is someone who could mold any emotion into music, but not him. He has never been good enough. "Just write, I'll help you later."
Dongmin is sixteen when he learns how to hug Woonhak's grief.
It all starts with a simple phrase in his notebook, then another, until a rhythm sits in his tongue longer than it should. He also understands it there: that want and sorrow can coexist.
-
Receptacle — Daisies. (The part of a flower stalk where the parts of the flower are attached.)
They're in Dongmin's mother's car when he realizes how real his fears can become. It's selfish, he knows it, but he's only sixteen, and Dongmin is leaving him. However, the ride is quiet, and the resistance of letting go shuts his tongue as he looks at Dongmin, who's leaning against the window while talking to his mother.
"You're the one who's graduating now?" There isn't real harm to it; it's Dongmin's way of showing he cares. "No, I'm— just nervous." The sudden tremble on his hand was noticeable; he saw how Dongmin's eyes were now glancing at it, a softer layer sitting between them. "Woonhak-ah, summer hasn't even started yet, don't be so negative." Then, Woonhak sees it fall where it shouldn't when Dongmin puts his hand on him without quite holding it, just present. "Let's enjoy this."
❀
He doesn't recall when it all began; he has just grown with it, and the sight of Dongmin wearing his uniform for the last time is making it worse, burning every edge of softness he ever had for the older.
It's all hunger now as he holds the daisies bouquet tightly, letting the aftertaste of falling for your best friend shutter inside. Except he doesn't dare to move his eyes from the other, he lets it remain there as if his presence could warn him of the unspoken trance of each season. Like if it could avoid the thought of their first winter without the other.
"Don't be so harsh on yourself." Dongmin's mother's voice comes into his senses like a broken glass with its multiple cuts that he doesn't dare look at. He nods at it, afraid of his own composure.
Then, the scent of the daisies comes to him.
Maybe he was just like spring for Dongmin after all. Woonhak thinks.
Always a step behind, trying to make Dongmin's life easier to bear. Watching him smile widely with his classmates from a distance, still clinging to those petals that knotted in his stomach after they touched, and seeing them shatter with the rain afterward.
He's meant to watch Dongmin live; he's just a spring that he got to pass by.
"Han Dongmin." The school principal calls the boy's name, and a sudden gathering of applause surrounds them. He stands up as the taller figure approaches the stage, grabbing his certificate.
Dongmin mouths a thank you as he stands in the front. His mother's camera flickers at him, and Woonhak laughs at the older boy's pose, the same pout and V pose he always tends to use. Then, for instance, the attention is drawn to him.
At that moment, it all goes quiet in the younger boy's mind. The blue seats are no longer visible, and the constant cheering of other parents is no longer heard. It's just them. It's Dongmin looking right at him. Everything else goes blank.
Then, Dongmin's features grow smaller, his teeth unconsciously making Woonhak smile as wide as him.
All his lines are showing, the moles on his face moving up, and it's beautiful. Dongmin is breathtaking. He can't believe how the other can hate his smile when it feels as if a huge star is looking right at him.
But then it fades, and Woonhak doesn't recall holding his breath until another name gets called, heart thumping nonstop.
❀
At night, they find a way to sneak into one of Dongmin's classmates' house party. It's silly, really; neither of them knows the boy enough to have been invited, but no one seems to care. Everyone is celebrating their last days of high school and getting wasted.
It's not like he has never tasted alcohol before; he and Dongmin even smoked weed at some point last year, but there's an uncomfortable stance when the other disappears from his sight.
He doesn't know anyone, and the sudden urge to socialize in case he really loses Dongmin catches him as he walks inside the stranger's kitchen.
He sees one girl holding her cup quietly, looking everywhere but the couple who are clearly making out at one of the kitchen counters. The place is huge, so their presence goes unnoticed when he finally speaks. "Hey," the girl's eyes widen, clearly surprised by it. It's cute, he thinks.
"I'm Woonhak, thought you might like some company." He leans against the kitchen's oven, a slight distance between them. "I do, thanks, I'm Minju."
The conversation goes smoothly, and they even exchange numbers. Maybe coming here wasn't that bad, Woonhak thinks, but then a body moves towards them, almost falling on his feet.
It's Dongmin, whose eyes are dilated, almost teary. He's standing in front of them with a vodka bottle in his hand, nearly tripping. "I got this for us— but." He's wasted, but nothing in Woonhak's mind can puzzle his behaviour. They always got drunk together, and he almost emptied the bottle by himself.
"I have to go." Minju nods, a glimpse of worry on her face as Woonhak tries to help Dongmin walk, holding his shoulder.
They are about to reach the living room when Dongmin moves straight to what seems to be one of the family's bedrooms, lying his whole body on the bed. "What are y—" It all happens too fast, the moon's light becoming the only source of light that can reach Dongmin's face when he holds Woonhak on top of him, caressing his bicep as if they had all the time in the world but they don't, Dongmin is about to leave him and he has never been patient with wanting things. Worse if it's about the older.
"Your skin is soft." He's scared; he has never seen the other in this state. "Dongmin, we should go," he says, but his body stays in place. "Woonhak-ah," Dongmin answers, almost whispering.
He grips the sleeves tightly, afraid all of this might be a weird fantasy. He doesn't dare to touch Dongmin, despite all, not like this.
"Woonhak-ah," He says again, keeping him in place. "Dongmin, I'll call my mom so we can leave this place, just let m—" Woonhak's constant thumbing doesn't catch a break when the grip on his bicep grows tighter. "No, stay with me." He sees it then, how lost the older boy's face looks.
"We have to go." There's a pout in Dongmin's lips now, the one that he always found cute. "Nop." he keeps repeating no, one quieter than the other, as if it were a secret. Then, he glances straight at Woonhak, his eyes forming two moons through his long lashes. "Woonhak-ah, would you kiss me?" He might be imagining all of this; maybe he's drunk too. "What are you saying, Hyung?" An anxious laugh slides out from Woonhak, speechless.
"Woonhak, would you kiss me?"
He's inclining closer, it's almost suffocating. "Do you like me?" None of his mind is focused, and Woonhak knows it as the older speaks, hot breath close to his jaw. He wouldn't say anything like this sober; he's just using him.
"You could be my girlfriend."
It all shatters then, making Woonhak shift abruptly from the bed. "We are leaving."
After that, he only recalls crying until the sun and the moon blurred together.
-
Poppies. — (the poppy does not mourn, it remembers)
He tells his mother he's busy when Dongmin knocks on their door at the beginning of June. Then, leaves his messages unseen and deletes their unanswered calls.
He hides in music after that, nonstop lyrics welcoming their way onto Woonhak's fingers, and for a short while, all of this seems enough. Then, guilt happens.
It all starts when Minju texts him, asking him to hang out, and before he knows it, they start dating in the strong heat of August. Close to Dongmin's birthday.
Annoying black cat:
Come to my birthday, please?
Or at least tell me you won't come.
I don't care.
3:02 AM
unak
Okay, I'll go.
9:01 AM
Sorry, I'll be late.
17:30, PM
Woonhak's phone screen flickers, another message from the older boy hanging in the bar notification when he finally arrives. It opens fast, a sudden change he can't quite catch.
Dongmin's hair is longer now; some parts of it almost touch his shoulders. It suits him, but the thought is useless if anything does. He's wearing a squared-off buttoned shirt, a new piercing in his ear, and ripped pants. He really looks like someone who doesn't belong in this town.
"You came." The tone is soft, almost relieved. "Yeah." The poppies painting stares right at him in the entrance hall, causing a nauseous shift in his stomach. He hates that poppy painting; it always lands where it shouldn't.
"What happened?" He asks, as if it were the only matter hanging between them. "My sister was sick, so I had to stay with her until my mother came." Which is the truth, but Dongmin's eyes don't seem to catch that.
"You could have told me, I wouldn't have minded rescheduling this to help you out." It's sincere, tender enough to almost vanish their past encounter. "I already called Minju to help me out, it's okay."
3.1 Poppies — (death and remembrance)
The poppies painting looks almost like blood after Woonhak speaks, spilling venom through his mouth. "The girl from the party?" They are barely touching the living room's entrance, afraid he might crash if he sees anyone else. "Yeah, we've been dating for a week."
"Can we go upstairs? I left something in my room." It's almost a whisper, a confession he can't wash off. The other nods, following him, and for an instance, it seems like nothing has changed.
"I could have helped you, though, I'm your best friend." Dongmin insists, tongue full of salt as he sits on the bed beside him.
"You're overthinking it, hyung." He doesn't push. The bed is small for them anyway; if someone dares to move, one of them might fall, but Dongmin has never wanted to grow up at all. He wants to keep the other for himself.
"Am I? I don't even know her. She could hurt your sister." She could hurt you, he wants to add, she could break both of us. Every word stays in the knot of his stomach and the red ink on his fingers, the one from the poppy's painting— flesh love beneath its scars.
"But I do, and she didn't hurt anyone." He remembers the fourteen-year-old Woonhak, scared of the future. He recalls being the only one who knew him well.
"Right, more than your own best friend." It's full of teeth, anger beneath its light tone, but it comes out neutral, almost emotionless.
"Come on, Hyung."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's your birthday, I didn't want to ruin it."
"It's still important to me, your sister is important to me." You are important to me, but the line between her sister and him blurs as he speaks.
"My mother is home, everything is solved, Dongmin."
"Sure, thanks to your lovely girlfriend." he hits a nerve.
"What's your fucking problem now?"
He decides to anchor Woonhak's anger, seeking problems to hide himself.
"I don't know, maybe my own best friend not trusting me is happening." This isn't their first fight; they used to fight while playing FIFA or when he disappeared during breaks. They have fought about everything and nothing at all. Dongmin likes his reaction, their push-and-pull relationship, but now, noticing how Woonhak's young features are fading, he comes to understand that this fight might be their last.
It's almost like watching a flower lose its petals.
"Oh, don't make me start." Dongmin knows it had already started; he shouldn't have gotten drunk, but the thought of Woonhak falling in love with someone else was worse."Start what? I'm the one who understands you, not her." But decides to hide it as he always does, to act as if he doesn't recall asking the other to kiss him, as he had forgotten wishing Woonhak had been a girl to make all of this easier.
But it's all over anyway, his birthday and his long friendship with Woonhak.
"Sure." He hears a slight sob coming from the younger boy's lips, but he isn't brave enough to listen as Woonhak's back faces him, leaving the room, leaving him. After all, he isn't the one who will leave them, but the other.
-
Sepals — Hydrangea. (green leaves that protect the bud until it opens)
Dongmin wasn't his to begin with. He was just his first love and first heartbreak: a human experience, one of many.
That's what he tells himself as he watches his mother read a book about Hydrangeas, a flower that signifies vanity or boastfulness due to the large blooms. It reminds him of freedom, of something so true it won't crack you open, but only allow you to grow even bigger.
"Son, I thought you were outside." She says, voice soft enough to stop his trance. "I wasn't feeling good." It's not a lie; it all feels better now in his mother's arms.
"That's okay, you can feel sad too, it's okay."
Maybe his mother knows as well, and in that moment, the living room gets blurrier as he cries in front of her. "It's about Dongmin, isn't it?" After that, it gets uglier, louder, and worst of all, it finally feels like freedom, but without him.
"I know it's hard, love is like that, you're only emotion, my son, I need you to let yourself cry." Woonhak knew it was love; it had been since the first lyric he ever wrote. The one describing the rude-looking boy at his grandma's funeral. He was also the one who gave these useless feelings life, the one who had always been beside him. Dongmin woke his heart for the first time and shattered it into pieces for him to look at, to remember his long lashes, pouts, the range of his voice when singing, and the warmth when he almost interwove their hands in the car.
It was all love, the kind of teenage dumb love. His mother knows he loves Dongmin.
"I know you're feeling lost, as if you were losing something that hadn't been given to you from the beginning, but trust me, son, you still have yourself, your love is yours only, even if it has lived in someone else's body, because no one will remember what was given to them without your warmth in it." She continues, hugging him tightly. "He will remember you as well because what you two had was beautiful, and I'm thankful you have let yourself love despite all."
To love despite all.
Annoying black cat:
I'm leaving tomorrow.
22:12
Annoying black cat:
My mom is asking if we can pick you up.
I'm sorry for causing all of this.
I don't want to leave without saying goodbye.
Please
woonhak?
5:00 AM
4 years later.
Barcelona is completely different from the streets he used to walk by; even on Sundays, people are everywhere, whether tourists or not; he never hears them go silent, and it's fascinating how the sun approaches each one of them.
Even now, he finds it alluring to see different features from his in the street, especially at the university's entrance. "Hello, I'm here to register," Woonhak says, taking pauses in every word to make his pronunciation more understandable.
The woman is looking at him with a boring stare, typing on the laptop some words he doesn't recall seeing in his Spanish homework sheets. "Name?" It's plain. "Kim Woonhak, music department." The typing gets aggressive, probably because of the long list of students that awaits her. 5 minutes later, she speaks. "Room 1301"
❀
After that awkward encounter, he decides to explore the campus, full of English and Spanish flyers. He swears to have seen a Korean one as well as he passes by the older classrooms.
The place is huge, Woonhak thinks. Not only the old classrooms, but the common areas, especially the cafeteria, he hasn't seen anything this big in his past schools. It's fascinating to think that he will be spending four years of his life here.
unak:
[attached photo]
heol… I wish u were here.
Nonetheless, the shift in time zones is annoying. He's only been in Spain for a week, and luckily, Minju managed to call him just right after he landed. It was nice hearing her voice again, but he couldn't stop himself from worrying that she might leave him, too.
Everything unfolded so fast that it's hard to keep up with his life now. He and Minju broke up right after Dongmin left, and a month later, she appeared at his doorstep crying about her same sex hopeless crush. Although it didn't stay hopeless, since Minju ended up dating the girl a week later.
Anecdotes apart, he's simply grateful to have her; however, this is the longest they've been apart, and it hurts, but despite all, he continues sending pictures of the school to Minju, especially of the cafeteria´s desserts.
It keeps like that until he tries to take a close-up of the outside through the window, catching a group of boys passing by the school's garden. Fuck, it's the first word that pops out of Woonhak's mind after almost dropping his phone on the floor. He might not have taken off the flash, or maybe that guy's profile was similar to Dongmin's. Whatever it is, he runs from it.
If someone had seen him, they would probably pity him; Woonhak pities himself as well. How dumb was applying to the same university as your ex-best friend, first love? Probably the dumbest. They will see each other at some point, but that time isn't now. He looks like shit and is hanging a suitcase up the stairs, heavy breathing in the action. How many clothes did his mother manage to put inside? What Woonhak knows is that all of this is huge.
When he's finally out of reach, a larger body crashes onto him in the corridors. This isn't his lucky day, isn't it? Woonhak thinks. "Perdona." The stranger's accent doesn't sound native at all; it's sweeter than it should. He dares to glance up, a pair of round glasses looking at him. This guy is Korean.
"Oh? You're Korean as well?"
"Yeah, sorry for bumping into you." He could leave and let the air land between them, but he doesn't. Probably because a cute guy is looking right at him with a nervous stance. "I was supposed to guide the Korean newcomers, but I got the turns mixed up." It's clumsy, but Woonhak has always liked bigger boys who are shyer than him. Blame his 20-year-old hormones.
"Those things happen, don't worry, but well…You still can help me if you want." His voice is secure, a high contrast with his shaky breath, but it seems to work. "Oh, of course! How can I help you?" The boy's shoulder looks less tense, now holding an attentive look. He looks chic. "So, mind if you help me find my dormitory?"
-
Forget-me-nots — (will not be forgotten)
"So, when is your new roomie coming?"
He's cooking two bowls of ramyeon when a pair of hands hug his waist, not enough to hurt but to secure in place. "Don't know." It's sweet, not something Sanghyuk has grown up with, but it seems to melt those thoughts away every time it happens. "We can stay like this longer than." It's also cheesy, but he can't help but giggle and leave a chess kiss on the boy's cheek, gaining a grin from Jaehyun's lips.
They stay like that until the door suddenly opens. That must be his new roommate.
"Sungho-ah?" Jaehyun asks, approaching the dorm's entrance but not quite leaving Sanghyuk's embrace.
"Hey lovebirds, I was just helping the newcomer." It should be easy to wave goodbye to Sungho and help his new roommate unpack, but an unknown knot settles in his stomach. He knows this boy, but doesn't at the same time. He then recalls Dongmin's anxious steps after seeing someone who looked exactly like "him". That's his ex-best friend he hasn't called for 4 years.
But that's impossible, why would he come to their school out of nowhere and end up being roommates? Such a silly fantasy.
"Hi, it's nice to speak my language here too." Sanghyuk must be scaring the kid at their handshake, but something is leading him to analyse the boy's behaviour, his face, and accent.
He has seen this face before. "So, what's your name, roomie?" Thank you, Jaehyun.
"Woonhak! Kim Woonhak."
Fuck.
❀
"Darling, don't you think that maybe he does know Dongmin studies here?" They're lying beside each other in the coach now, afraid Woonhak could overhear them. "That's probably it, but I can't bring myself to tell Donghyun." Although Dongmin would be the first to freak out, he knows Donghyun wouldn't take this lightly. The boy has been trying to court the other for a while now; they even got matching necklaces. It was about time for them to become boyfriends, but of course, the three of them know who's been in Dongmin's heart the longest.
The first time Donghyun got to know about Woonhak was on their first "date" at the ice cream store around the corner, when Dongmin opened his wallet to pay. It should have been casual, an ordinary wallet, but it wasn't. The wallet had a picture, one where two guys were posing with V signs and funny faces. It could be his best friend, Donghyun thought, but every edge of it ached in his chest. It seemed personal, more than Dongmin had ever told him.
"Dongmin-ah, who's the boy posing beside you?" It all shattered there.
Dongmin's coins almost fell on the floor, fingers trembling as the cashier took the money. He had never seen the other like this, as if he were about to break. "Nothing."
"Why keep it then?" Maybe he has gone too far; he's asking too much again.
"I forgot to take it out, I always do."
That same night, Donghyun came to him crying. "Hyung, I understand it now, why he seems to like me but doesn't show it clearly, why this won't work. He loves him, Hyung, he always will."
Donghyun was the sun that couldn't shine through Dongmin's endless winter.
The thought discomforted Sanghyuk.
"But Sanghyuk-ah, didn't Donghyun tell us they would be here by thirty?"
Shit. He can't tell Donghyun, not yet.
riu:
ihaaaan,
hangout dismissed,
A new roomie came today.
19:04
ihan :p:
oki hyung!!
19:10
-
Daffodil — (rebirth, the promise of renewal)
Woonhak should have seen it coming: the newcomers' party, or that's what Sungho tells him as they walk through the corridors. "I must go to gain credits, so it would be nice to have you there." Sungho is two years older than him, but there's a softness he had seemed to miss when the other is near. It's cute. He can't seem to find another word, especially if the tips of Sungho's ears are now shaded in pink. "Of course."
It's almost nostalgic, how close they have gotten in a week.
❀
Woonhak watches Sungho's steps move along the scenery, full of music students dancing and getting wasted in the corners. It reminds him of the graduation party, a total mess, but this time, beside the shorter guy, he notices the uncertainty in Sungho's fingers; he mustn't be a drinker either. “Don't worry, I don't drink either,” Woonhak says as they approach a bench.
He senses relief in Sungho's posture, and it's strangely familiar, almost like those American films Dongmin used to make him watch in their annual sleepovers, with the typical character you have met first. Sungho is like that, a hand-made mirror of himself. Not exact but close. He mustn't have tasted alcohol for a certain period in his life, like him as well, or maybe he's also afraid of texting that person in the middle of the night.
Sungho's voice is lighter now, his features have become less rigid, with a cat-like expression as he watches the crowd's movements. It's comfortable that way, but he can't stop himself from thinking that maybe he really does have a thing for silent black-haired people who resemble cats, but it doesn't matter; the prospect of staying with Sungho makes all of this bearable.
But when he dares to grasp that thought longer, to make himself a home, a mere syllable shutters his dream-like scenarios. It's a sound he recalls hearing every time Dongmin pronounced the r in the past, and when he dares to glance up, a 22-year-old Dongmin appears in front of them.
The older boy is drinking a beer with grace as if it were an accessory, and it pisses him off. ¿Since when has he wanted to be this likable? Woonhak thinks. “Do you know him?” Sungho asks, and for a moment, he doesn't recall catching his breath. “Used to.” It's all too much, but not enough. A part of him is waiting for the other to look, to know he's here, but the fear of being seen is growing fonder in his chest.
It's all so sudden and odd. He has come here knowing it would happen, but for some reason, his body is asking to run home. Home in the sense of his mother's arms, along the eyes he has grown up with that are now looking back at him, and for a brief instant, he feels fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen altogether again.
“I'll be back.” Those are the words he manages to say before everything goes blank between them. It's nostalgic, as if everything had brought him to this.
He dares to do the first step, attentive to Dongmin's reaction, a mix of doubt and remembrance invading his features. But soon after, he dares to move as well, and when they finally meet in the middle of their shared space, Dongmin speaks first.
“Woonhak.”
The sound gives his name a meaning he had forced himself to forget.
“Dongmin”