Spring Found by Chance

1. Reunion

"Ya!"

I didn't bother to open my eyes to the sharp voice, only groaning at the familiar arrival that was stomping towards my bedroom now. In an instant, the door was teared open and knocked into the wall. A slight wave of concern washed over me; was there a hole where the door handle had banged into?

I lifted my head only a little, peeking at the area near my door with half-opened eyes. My vision was still blurry, and I wasn't able to see much. What I did see, however, was a tall figure standing in the threshold to my bedroom, a purplish mob sitting on top of its head. He'd changed his hair color again?

Dropping my head back down onto the pillow, I heard my intruder approaching me. The mattress beside me shifted a heartbeat later, and I moved my gaze, only to be met with dark eyes looking down on me.

"Namjoon," I eventually uttered, "go home."

To this, Kim Namjoon sighed. He grabbed my blanket and threw it onto the floor, exposing me to the freezing cold of my room. "That's been enough weeks of feeling sorry for yourself. Get up. I brought bibimbap."

Ignoring him, I rolled onto my side, leaning over the edge of my bed and laboriously picking up my blanket. Namjoon, though, took it from me before I could cover myself up again.

"Get up!" His voice was more strict now, reminding me of what of an annoying big brother-like friend he could be at times. "Stop acting as if you're dying."

He pulled at my arm, gently at first, then more harshly as I didn't stir. When I finally gave in, sitting up in a sluggish movement, like I hadn't sat for years, Namjoon kneeled down in front of me, so that our eyes were on the same level. He looked at me like a mother would look at her hurt child. I felt discontented being put in a degraded position like this and quickly looked away.

A moment of awkward — me — and pitiful — him — silence passed before Namjoon moved again.

"I hate seeing you like this, J," he said surprisingly fondly and stood up. His gaze had been lifted from me, and he was looking at nothing in particular now, just somewhere off to the side. "Bibimbap's in the kitchen if you're hungry."

Namjoon slowly left my room then, and an ephemeral minute later I heard the front door klick shut. The apartment returned to the silence I'd grown accustomed to, and it was somewhat like he'd never been here. A part of me wished he would've stayed and had bibimbap with me, but the bigger part just wanted to be alone. He knew this, I was certain.

I sat in the quiet of my room. Everything about my life felt empty like the space I stared off into, if not more. I had too much time on my hands that I didn't know what to fill with. Before, I hadn't needed to worry about this because I had her. She had been there at all times, at the very forefront of my own existence. Now, though, there was nothing but a collection of memories lingering in the back of my mind.

When I stood in the dimly lit kitchen sometime later, face washed and teeth brushed, I only stared at the dish Namjoon had gotten, I recognized, from the place opposite to his store. It looked delicious, admittedly, and yet I didn't want to eat it. He probably thought I liked bibimbap since I'd eaten it so often. The truth, though, was rather that I thought it was just okay; I'd only eaten it because she loved it so much.

Memories of our dinner dates started coming to my mind, and I felt a lump in my throat yet again. For once in almost a month, though, the urge to cry remained as that. I was irritated for a second, but then turned to walked away, dragging my feet in slow strides. Hesitantly, I reached out to the blinds switch attached to the wall I stood before now.

I pressed down on it. The blinds rose with a transient crack indicating that they hadn't been activated in long time. Strident light rushed in, then the entire kitchen and living space was dipped into the red evening sun. After my eyes had gotten used to the sudden brightness, I crossed over to the windows and, upon emerging, looked out at the city.