In His Arms - Wonheon ( Wonho x Jooheon )

Chapter 22 : Silence

He’s quick to find that the high points of his days consists of the very second Wonho leaves for work. Once that door closes behind him, Jooheon gets the house to himself-- the quiet and emptiness and the isolation that are his only companions in the world anymore-- and it’s like a blessing in disguise.  

He doesn’t care though. Wonho is gone, even if only for a few hours, and that itself is the only thing that Jooheon takes comfort in because during those glorious hours that Wonho is away, it’s almost like Jooheon can breathe properly again, and he can think without having his thoughts stray to the man that is always near, always hovering over him and forcing himself into everything that Jooheon is.

With Wonho gone, Jooheon can almost function like he did before…all of this.

He’s lost track of the days but he knows it’s been a while. Probably a long while but it isn’t as if Jooheon has his phone to check the date or, well, anything else. He could ask Wonho and maybe the man would answer, but then that would mean that Jooheon would have to talk to the asshole and that’s just something he wants to avoid at all cost. Jooheon also knows that he gives Wonho the silent treatment just to watch his features fall every time he steps through that damn door. It’s almost cruel how Jooheon enjoys it; watching Wonho frown, watching how his bright smile and eyes close off when he’s met with silence, how his face draws tight and he suddenly looks so much older than he really is.

But what does Wonho expect?

He’s made this grave, now he has to lie in it. If Wonho has to pout like a fucking toddler when Jooheon doesn’t immediately jump up and answer him with smiles and hugs, he’s pretty well off if that’s all he suffers with. Jooheon could be worse-- he should be the worst fucking nightmare that Wonho has ever faced, but he isn’t, because he’s. not. dumb.

He has to have a clear head and if Wonho keeps jutting that needle into his skin, it’s not gonna happen. If Jooheon wants any chance of escape, he has to stay sharp and ready, and he can’t do that if he’s fucked up.

He can’t run. He can’t fight.

He’s fucking useless, is what he is.  

So, Jooheon chooses his battles wisely.

When Wonho is gone, Jooheon examines the house, turns it upside down and inside out trying to find a way out. When Wonho is there, Jooheon’s silent and closed off, and always keeps a good distance from the man as much as he can. He tries his damn hardest but sometimes Wonho is…Wonho.

Jooheon wishes there was a clear distinction between the time Wonho is present to the times that he isn’t, but the truth is, there’s not. Because even when Wonho isn’t physically present, he’s still there, all around the house and everywhere Jooheon looks, he sees Wonho.

The halls are empty, with nothing on the walls that can tell Jooheon who Wonho is. There is no family portraits or artwork and that tells Jooheon things more than it doesn’t. Every room that Jooheon looks through, it’s all bare and empty, with nothing personal and nothing that could possibly hold any meaning. It’s everything that a family house shouldn’t be. Nothing gives him the answers he need that could explain why Wonho is doing any of this. He looks like a normal guy, but fuck was he anything than that.

But no matter how long Jooheon stays in that house, alone, sitting silently or thrashing around, it all comes shuttering down once he hears the sound of Wonho’s vehicle pull up, the familiar jingle of keys, and the faint whoosh of the door opening back up. Then, it’s all Wonho again. The man shoves his way back in, filling the air with his noise and smell and voice and-- and Jooheon is forced to deal with him all over again.