Quix (quixoxotic) wrote in miracle______,

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Title Like a Gunshot

Chapter 1/?

Rating Hard PG-13

Pairing EunHae? (Eunhyuk x Donghae)

Summary AU. Donghae wakes up in the hospital with no recollection of his past self. Eunhyuk is there. "Do I live with you?"..."Well, you don't live with anyone else."

Warnings None yet...under the influence of Sylvia Plath, a bit. Donghae might as well be on crack. Also, my first SJ fic, I believe. And I have the smallest of inklings that this fic has been written before. Something like it, anyway.

My first thought when I opened my eyes was that the printer has run out of ink. Everything was so white-white that it hurt. Then I realized how absurd that thought was, and that even if the printer had run out of ink, the entire room wouldn't be blank space, anyway. And all the while I had the vague impression that someone was running around shouting, "He's awake! He's awake!" and I wanted to slap that person and tell him that of course I'm awake. Isn't waking up what people normally do in the morning? But, of course, my arms wouldn't move and my tongue felt dry and fat and heavy.

That was when I felt something probing at my temples and a light was shined in my eyes, one after the other. I heard the gentle beep of a monitor, slow and steady. I realized, I am in the hospital.

Gradually the white-whiteness subsided, and I could make out the blurry outlines of a clock on the wall and two people, heads bent together conspiringly. I tried to make some sort of noise with my throat, but I think all that came out was a whimper. The two people turned toward me at the sound, and one of them, the one in the white coat, nodded and left the room, saying, "I'll leave you two alone, now," with something like a wink in his voice. I wasn't sure how someone managed to wink with one's voice. The other man came toward me. I tried to move; my finger twitched.

And then he was kneeling next to my bed on the white-white floor and grasping my hands in his and saying, "Donghae! Donghae, you're finally back! It's all okay, now. I got a divorce. She went to jail. They found out what she did and sent her to jail. And the public sympathized with me, you know, so my company's all right. It's better than all right. So we can start over, Donghae. We can--" and he kept rambling on and on. I felt like one of those nodding dogs, smiling and nodding, yes yes yes, but my eyes were wide and I really had no idea what he was talking about. So I thought it best to interrupt him before he got too involved.

I said, "I'm sorry. Who are you?" in a scratchy voice, cracked from lack of use.

What I said must have upset him, or surprised him, at least, because his hands tightened on mine before he let go and looked down at the floor. I few moments passed in which I grew restless at this man's lack of response. Finally, he said in a small voice, "You really don't remember me?"


Suddenly he yelled, "Doctor!" in such an abrasive tone that my fingers twitched again. The man in the white coat from before ran back into the room.

"He says he doesn't remember, doctor. He says he doesn't remember."

The doctor just smiled. "This is normal, Mr. Lee. It is a sort of aftershock. He'll come to remember soon."


The doctor nodded. Then he left again. I thought of how exhausting a job like his would be, always walking around but not really accomplishing anything.

Mr. Lee answered my question from before.

"I'm Lee Eunhyuk. I'm here to take you home."

"Do I live with you?"

He hesitated. "Well, you don't live with anyone else."

"I must have been lonely."

"You weren't," he answered quickly.

"Oh." My throat was finally warming to my voice.

x o x o x o x o x

He lived in a one bedroom apartment that took up an entire floor at the top of some building in Seoul. The living room had one wall entirely made of glass. I immediately ran forward and pressed my face against the cold surface, relishing the view. Somehow, it felt familiar.

The furniture was all black leather and marble surfaces, sleek sophistication. The world below me was small and insignificant. I thought that this Eunhyuk character must be awfully lonely all by himself, in this palace in the sky. It was good that I was here--or was it that I had returned?--to keep him company, then.

Eunhyuk dragged my black suitcases onto the soft white carpeting of the living room. He stood awkwardly. It was strange that he should be awkward in his own home. I tried to talk.

"How long was I away?" I breathed onto the glass. My breath condensed on the clear surface.

"One month, at least." He sat on one of the black leather couches and folded his legs underneath him.

"That's a very long time."

1 1 1 I wrote into the foggy glass.

When he didn't answer I turned. He was crying. It seemed that the right thing to do then was to comfort him, somehow, and my body moved as if out of habit. His head cradled in my chest, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. This happened often, I thought, in the past.

He didn't push me away, so we stayed like that for a long time.

x o x o x o x o x

At night he told me he would sleep on the couch so that I could have the bed all to myself. The problem was that I didn't want to sleep. I told him so, but he chuckled lightly and patted my hair. I explained to him that after one month of doing nothing but lying in some bed with my eyes closed, I was pretty much set for the next year. He threw something silky at me; they were pajama bottoms. I supposed he was pretty serious about the whole sleep thing.

When it was three o'clock in the morning, I heard a light knock on my door, and I was still wide awake, sitting idle on the bed. There was no television to watch (it was in the living room), and all the words in the books I tried to read were mixed up and gave me a headache.

"Come in," I said. The door opened with a creak.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Eunhyuk asked. He was wearing silk pajama bottoms and a white wife-beater.

"Why aren't you?" I asked accusingly. I was only wearing that pair of pajama bottoms, too long in the legs and slightly too big around the waist, that he had thrown at me. It occurred to me then that I was cold. I shivered.

"I missed you," he said cautiously.

I didn't know what to say to that.

x o x o x o x o x

I tried to sleep after he left, but I lay on the bed for hours fully awake. I watched the digital clock's glowing green numbers change every minute, from 3:16 to 6:48, and I didn't miss a single minute.

When it was 6:49, I heard running water coming from the kitchen, and the smell of eggs followed soon after. Breakfast.

I thought of a supermarket, and suddenly I remembered something. It came to me in a kaleidoscope of flashes.

"Eunhyuk, you make the best omelets, ever."

"I know, right?"

"I'm getting really tired of eggs, Hyuk."

A woman's voice cried, "Is this the one? Is
he the one that you've been seeing?"

I thought of blood. Blood and hearts and kisses and bullets.

Eunhyuk brought the plate of breakfast to me. I was still lying unmoving on the bed, so he shook my shoulder.

"Zang!" he said when I turned to him. He shoved the plate under my nose. It was an omelet with a zigzag of ketchup on top. It looked like someone had taken a knife and cut the egg down the center, and now it was bleeding everywhere.

I gagged and threw the covers over my head. I was still cold.

"I don't think I'll be eating today, Hyuk," I said, my voice muffled under the duvet. I couldn't see if he was disappointed or not.

end ch1

thanx for reading! Btw, I'm really bad about updating and such, so don't expect too much. Just a warning.


Tags: pairing: eunhyuk/donghae
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