Chapter 4
Dohyun wasn’t sure when “dropping by” turned into a routine.
Maybe it was the third time Jaerim didn’t bother pretending to be surprised when he showed up. Or the day Jaerim opened the door while brushing his teeth and just pointed to the kitchen without a word.
Whatever it was, Dohyun had somehow become part of Jaerim’s everday life.
It was a lazy Sunday morning when Dohyun showed up with a grocery bag and a frown.
“Have you eaten breakfast?” he asked the moment Jaerim opened the door.
Jaerim blinked, hair messy as always. “Define breakfast”
Dohyun held up the bag. “Something that isn’t chips.”
“…Then no.”
“Exactly.” Dohyun sighed and stepped inside. “How are you even alive?”
“Money,” Jaerim said simply, closing the door behind him.
Dohyun placed the groceries on the counter. “That’s not nutrition.”
Jaerim yawned. “It’s motivation.”
“Well… that’s not entirely wrong.”
This was how most mornings went now, Dohyun nagging, Jaerim deflecting with dry remarks, and somehow the two settling into a rhythm that didn’t feel forced.
“Sit down. I’ll cook something simple,” Dohyun said, already washing rice.
“I can help,” Jaerim said suddenly.
Dohyun froze. Skeptical. “You… sure?”
“Do I look unsure?”
“Yes.”
Jaerim ignored him and reached for a frying pan. “I can handle eggs.”
Dohyun hesitated. “Fine. But-”
A loud crack interrupted him – and when he turned, Jaerim was staring blankly at the egg now half on the counter, half on the floor.
“So…you can handle what again?”
“That’s… a style.” Jaerim said flatly.
Dohyun pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to laugh. “Style your face. Move.”
They ended up cooking together – or rather, Dohyun cooked while Jaerim hovered nearby pretending to help. He stirred things too long, flipped things too early, and somehow managed to make tea taste burnt.
Still, Dohyun didn’t mind. There was something almost comforting about having someone else in the kitchen, even if that someone was dangerously incompetent.
When the food was done, they sat by the small dining table – Jaerim slouched, Dohyun straight-backed like an exhausted parent.
Jaerim poked at his plate. “You make this look too easy.”
“Again. It is easy.” Dohyun said, sipping his tea. “You just overthink it.”
“I don’t overthink,” Jaerim said. “I… underdo.”
Dohyun chuckled. “I can tell.”
Over the next few weeks, things changed – quietly, like the weather shifting between seasons.
The once chaotic apartment started to look less like a disaster zone.
Dishes were washed, laundry folded, and at some point, the garbage actually made it outside the door.
When Dohyun noticed, he said it without thinking.
“You cleaned.”
Jaerim didn’t look up from his phone. “I didn’t.”
Dohyun glanced around – the dishes stacked neatly, the floor clear, sunlight spilling over the couch that no longer looked like a trash bin. “Looks like you did.”
“Then maybe someone broke in and did it for me,” Jaerim said, voice dry.
Dohyun let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft in the stillness of the room. “Right. A cleaning fairy.”
Jaerim’s lips twitched – not quite a smile, but close. “If you see her, tell her to stop.”
“I think the fairy is already here,” Dohyun murmured.
Jaerim finally looked up then, eyes meeting his for just a second.
There was a flicker of something in them – faint surprise, maybe embarrassment, before he looked away again.
“…Don’t make it sound weird,” he muttered.
Dohyun smiled, gentle this time. “Didn’t mean to.”
He turned back toward the sink, but the quiet between them felt different now.
Just quiet in a way that felt… comfortable.
Later that afternoon, while Dohyun was tidying up the kitchen, Jaerim had drifted off somewhere between half-awake and half-asleep on the couch.
The TV was still playing, some old variety show rerun, and his phone rested on his chest, screen dimmed.
Dohyun was just about to turn off the lights when something near the corner of the living room caught his eye – a covered piano, its lid hidden under a thin layer of dust.
He paused, wiping his hands on a towel before walking closer. The instrument looked expensive, but neglected, like it hadn’t been touched in years.
He hesitated before asking quietly, “You play?”
Jaerim didn’t move at first, but his voice came out a moment later, soft and a little rough from sleep.
“…used to.”
Dohyun turned slightly. “Why’d you stop?”
Jaerim opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Because no one was listening.”
There wasn’t bitterness in his tone, just the kind of tired honesty that came from someone who’d given up trying to explain himself.
Dohyun leaned against the piano, tracing a finger along the dust. “You could’ve played for yourself.”
Jaerim gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “That’s even worse. Feels like trying to talk to a wall.”
For a second, Dohyun didn’t know what to say. The silence in the apartment wasn’t heavy, it was just… still.
Like neither of them really knew how to fill it.
He finally said, almost gently, “You know… even walls echo sometimes.”
That made Jaerim glance over. His eyes lingered on Dohyun longer than usual, searching his face, before he looked away again. “You talk too much.”
“Maybe.” Dohyun smiled faintly. “But at least I listen.”
Jaerim didn’t respond to that, but he didn’t need to.
The air between them had shifted, just a little quiet understanding slipping in like light through half-closed curtains.
Jaerim yawned and added, almost carelessly, “Still, thanks. For… taking care of me, I guess.”
That stopped Dohyun completely.
Those words – taking care of me – hit something deep inside, something raw that hadn’t healed in years.
His mind flashed, uninvited, to the hospital corridor he never made it to in time. The unanswered call. The quiet regret he’d been carrying since that day his mom died.
He swallowed hard, forcing a small smile even though his chest ached.
“Don’t mention it,” he murmured.
Jaerim’s eyes had already closed again, his breathing soft and steady.
But Dohyun stood there for a long moment – staring at the piano, at the faint dust his fingers had disturbed, and at the quiet figure on the couch who somehow made him remember what it felt like to truly care for someone again.
