Sunrise [Yungi FF]

23. Snowstorm

Jongho insisted that Yunho should stay at his house for one night. Yunho thought it was ridiculous, that he was being treated like a child, but Jongho's stern and unyielding tone was not something he wanted to contend with, so he eventually complied.

Yunho turned to his back on the unfamiliar bed and stared at the ceiling. His eyes had gotten used to the darkness since he switched off the lights - which was a long time ago, or at least felt like a long time ago - and everything looked grayish-blue without light saturating them.

There was barely any furniture in the unused guest room. Other than the creaky bed frame and the dusty mattress he was on, there was a bedside cabinet to his right with a digital clock set on top. On the other side was a floor lamp, its long body supported by a flat disc at the bottom and a light blue shade shielding the light bulb at the top. If Yunho squinted, he could still make out the dark figures across the room - a stumpy armchair, a three-legged table, and a rolled-up carpet.

The room was so quiet Yunho could hear his every intake of breath. So he jolted when the door clicked open and a long rectangular beam of light leaked through the gap.

Yunho shuffled and sat up, the noise almost like the scratchy white noise from a radio in the silence.

"You're still awake?" Jongho whispered, padding towards the bed. The door swung slowly shut behind him, but the lock didn't quite click and a thin ray of light still made it through.

The stimulation from the brightness stung Yunho's eyes, which was already groggy from his attempts at sleep. He ignored the rhetorical question and asked, "Why did you come?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep," replied Jongho. He presented a cup of warm water Yunho had not noticed before, which Yunho took gratefully.

Yunho occupied himself with the drink to avoid conversation. He didn't feel like talking about it.

After the hospital visit, he had lounged in Jongho's living room, trying to kill time until it was time to sleep so he could wake up the next day and finally do what he had meant to do weeks ago.

Wariness followed him all day like a suit of rigid armor as he anticipated and feared the things San would tell him. He would make San say everything even if San didn't want to. He was tired of secrets, even though knowledge could sometimes be scarier.

The liquid soothed Yunho's dry throat and warmed his chest and lung areas. He felt more comfortable now, the fatigue seeping into his body. Earlier today he still believed that his wariness would tire him out eventually, but now he realized it was the opposite - wariness warded off weariness. So his eyes were tired, his muscles were limp, but his mind was wide awake.

"Just relax," said Jongho. "You're just talking to him, right? And I'll be there."

"Yes," Yunho replied. The word came out slow and his eyelids were threatening to fall. "But what if-"

"Stop thinking so much. It's good that you're looking for the answer. You're not doing anything wrong. You said it yourself. You're helping him." Towards the end, there was a strain in Jongho's voice, especially on the last word as he tried to avoid saying Mingi's name.

Yunho noticed it under the reassuring tone. He pretended he didn't, but he felt the sarcasm and the artificial nature. Jongho thought he already knew the answer - that Mingi was just the average manic criminal - and wanted Yunho to face that truth.

The tiny glow from the door gave a lighter shade to Jongho's pupils. They looked gray, like the rest of the room.

"I'm getting tired," said Yunho tersely, putting the empty cup on the bedside table.