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jewelledhoursRunning Blind With Eyes Wide Open by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catskilt
eunhyuk/donghae
pg-13; 573 words; multi-chapter
there was a lifetime in each other, if they chose to see it.
thankingwarmboys for all the encouragement and support ♥ this fic is a multi-chapter, as yet unfinished.
Running Blind With Eyes Wide Open
part zero; a moment
Donghae could have stayed in bed for a couple more hours that morning, but he chooses to get up instead.
It is hard, after all, to remain in bed when you've long been in the habit of getting up at seven o' clock. The mind begins thinking, the eyes open and refuse to be closed. Perhaps tomorrow he'll stay in bed for fifteen more minutes, and the next day for half an hour, and maybe by the end of the week he won't get up till noon.
Noon's the furthest he'll go. Afternoon visiting hours in the nursing home are from one to six, and if he's going to miss the morning hours he's not going to waste any of the afternoon's.
He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen; starts the coffee machine, opens the fridge for butter and jam. He can't be bothered to make an intricate breakfast; he's not often hungry now, and there's no point in going to all that trouble for himself. The coffee machine cranks. It's getting old, too.
A strong, rain-smelling wind is blowing in the garden outside, throwing swaying shadows of leaves onto the photo frame opposite the microwave. The glass gleams one second, darkens the next on the two smiling faces. His blue enamel mug is slightly chipped at the top (when had that happened?), butter and jam sweet and salty on wholemeal bread. The floor tiles are cold and impersonal underneath his feet as he contemplates the photo frame, wakes up from morning vagueness with the bitterness of coffee. Maybe he should move now, find a smaller place, a one-room apartment that would be more suited to his mobility and needs.
As always, he abandons the idea before it has a chance to grow. He finishes his simple sandwich and makes his way slowly out of the kitchen. His joints ache; it might be due to the coming rain. For a moment he fancies he hears a bed creaking, phlegm clearing, but he remembers that there's nobody there. He's living alone now. Sounds are imaginary.
An hour later he's washed and smelling of soap. He has his good coat on, his pavement-beaten leather shoes, his wallet in his pocket. He wonders if there's anything else he should be bringing along; a towel maybe, a change of underwear, a new toothbrush? He doesn't want to remember that the nursing home is more than capable of taking care of all that; he doesn't want to relinquish his caretaker role yet though he has, ironically, already relinquished it. The thought makes him sad, but he and Hyukjae had promised each other before Hyukjae left that they won't dwell. Not for something so necessary and practical as this. There will be other more important things to dwell on.
It begins to rain just as he's about to leave. He pauses for a moment; takes off his leather shoes and goes into the empty bedroom on the ground floor. It's still and cold and brown-tinted by the closed windows. Donghae slides the windows back a crack, lets in a little of the wind. The blades in the small portable fan standing on the chest of drawers begin to rotate slowly, unsurely.
He stands in the middle of the room, watching the lines of rain flickering carelessly and irregularly onto the garden. Hyukjae would have liked to see this. Hyukjae would say, the grass will be green again.
next: part one; a past
catskilteunhyuk/donghae
pg-13; 573 words; multi-chapter
there was a lifetime in each other, if they chose to see it.
thanking
warmboys for all the encouragement and support ♥ this fic is a multi-chapter, as yet unfinished.part zero; a moment
Donghae could have stayed in bed for a couple more hours that morning, but he chooses to get up instead.
It is hard, after all, to remain in bed when you've long been in the habit of getting up at seven o' clock. The mind begins thinking, the eyes open and refuse to be closed. Perhaps tomorrow he'll stay in bed for fifteen more minutes, and the next day for half an hour, and maybe by the end of the week he won't get up till noon.
Noon's the furthest he'll go. Afternoon visiting hours in the nursing home are from one to six, and if he's going to miss the morning hours he's not going to waste any of the afternoon's.
He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen; starts the coffee machine, opens the fridge for butter and jam. He can't be bothered to make an intricate breakfast; he's not often hungry now, and there's no point in going to all that trouble for himself. The coffee machine cranks. It's getting old, too.
A strong, rain-smelling wind is blowing in the garden outside, throwing swaying shadows of leaves onto the photo frame opposite the microwave. The glass gleams one second, darkens the next on the two smiling faces. His blue enamel mug is slightly chipped at the top (when had that happened?), butter and jam sweet and salty on wholemeal bread. The floor tiles are cold and impersonal underneath his feet as he contemplates the photo frame, wakes up from morning vagueness with the bitterness of coffee. Maybe he should move now, find a smaller place, a one-room apartment that would be more suited to his mobility and needs.
As always, he abandons the idea before it has a chance to grow. He finishes his simple sandwich and makes his way slowly out of the kitchen. His joints ache; it might be due to the coming rain. For a moment he fancies he hears a bed creaking, phlegm clearing, but he remembers that there's nobody there. He's living alone now. Sounds are imaginary.
An hour later he's washed and smelling of soap. He has his good coat on, his pavement-beaten leather shoes, his wallet in his pocket. He wonders if there's anything else he should be bringing along; a towel maybe, a change of underwear, a new toothbrush? He doesn't want to remember that the nursing home is more than capable of taking care of all that; he doesn't want to relinquish his caretaker role yet though he has, ironically, already relinquished it. The thought makes him sad, but he and Hyukjae had promised each other before Hyukjae left that they won't dwell. Not for something so necessary and practical as this. There will be other more important things to dwell on.
It begins to rain just as he's about to leave. He pauses for a moment; takes off his leather shoes and goes into the empty bedroom on the ground floor. It's still and cold and brown-tinted by the closed windows. Donghae slides the windows back a crack, lets in a little of the wind. The blades in the small portable fan standing on the chest of drawers begin to rotate slowly, unsurely.
He stands in the middle of the room, watching the lines of rain flickering carelessly and irregularly onto the garden. Hyukjae would have liked to see this. Hyukjae would say, the grass will be green again.
next: part one; a past
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useless comment
Date: 2010-08-01 12:37 pm (UTC)Re: useless comment
Date: 2010-08-02 01:39 pm (UTC)I know this is going to spoil the mood completely but I'm glad that we're not writing about local stars. It would not be so romantic if I waxed lyrical over beehoon or chee cheong fun.
Re: useless comment
Date: 2010-08-02 01:43 pm (UTC)Re: useless comment
Date: 2010-08-02 01:45 pm (UTC)STILL DOESN'T WORK.
Re: useless comment
Date: 2010-08-02 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-01 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-02 01:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-03 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-07 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-21 04:02 am (UTC)I like how at the first sight of rain, Hae stills before turning and heading back and his hesitation is reflected by "The blades in the small portable fan standing on the chest of drawers begin to rotate slowly, unsurely."
I am however, filled with a sinking sensation that a mack track full of angst is waiting to come barreling our way. D:
no subject
Date: 2010-08-21 06:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-23 05:27 am (UTC)about the truth I already knew aboutGEEEEMMM?! DDD:no subject
Date: 2010-08-23 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-02 03:30 pm (UTC)i shall follow as best as i can with my pathetic internet access ^^
no subject
Date: 2010-09-03 12:50 am (UTC)Why is your internet access pathetic?
i love ur icon ^^
Date: 2010-09-03 10:03 pm (UTC)i dun have internet in my housing yet - not till next week. so i keep having to come to the library to get online, but i have so many other errands to settle and orientation etc to go to, my online time is limited. i am singaporean enuff tat i am having internet withdrawal, hahaha.
i love my icon too
Date: 2010-09-05 03:36 am (UTC)you have too much faith in my re-transforming abilities, lmao.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 11:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-16 04:39 am (UTC)Part Zero is well-written and clear and so clean in the details, it almost reflects the simplicity of life that Donghae is now living. There is no bed creaking anymore, no one stirring from sleep, there are only the sounds that he makes. There is sadness and loneliness but no regret or pain (apart from his old bones), which is beautiful in a way. The image you paint of the home and the chipped mug and the rain-striped window panes is almost too easily seen, even with only words, that it makes me nervous to move forward. I expect my heart will be broken by this story but that's okay, I will let it be.
I'll thank you up front for writing this because it really gives a realistic view of what could be, whether it's Donghae and Eunhyuk or anyone else. This is a wonderful story and I'm so glad you're writing it.