Until The End of Time | Wonho [√]

5: MONACHOPSIS

It was his eyes, swallowing me in whole. Lids that never closed, watching me quizzically then his eyes turned wider, a look of realization, and then, panic.

I couldn't look away either. I saw how his lips started to tremble, eyelids suddenly quivering. He stared at me, as if he knew me.

As if he had known me for a very long time, for ages.

That alone made me halt my breath for a a few seconds, and only exhale when he finally looked away. Maybe he really was sick, he really needed help.

"I..." I started, not knowing where to go. Then with a sudden realization I unclasped my bag from my shoulder, opened the zip and pulled out a small and white package.

"The medicine they prescribed for you." I held it out and he glanced at it. After a second of pause his bony hand hiding behind his flimsy, green jacket reached out.

His skeletal fingers were trembling when he took that.

I knew what the packet contained, some multivitamins, nutritional pills, and, antidepressants.

The doctors found an empty bottle of prozac in his pockets, they ran a test and found out he was taking pills for depression. I wasn't a philanthropist but when I came to know of such a knowledge I bought those medicines for him.

Now I was going to let him go unscratched, without paying his own medical bills. I was concerned too if he actually had a home to go. He did not look like a homeless person, but no one should be judging someone by their appearance, looks could never tell and I knew better.

Again, I wasn't a philanthropist.

There was something about him that made me do all those, even now that I had taken a seat next to him on the bench he looked like a relic to me.

A delicate relic of the ancient past. His disposition looked aged with time, yet when he first looked at me his face was filled with boyish youth under the pallid complexion.

It was hard to fathom he was twenty six. He felt way older, and way younger than that, at the same time.

"Hyungwon," I spoke formally. "Since you're older than me by three years I'm going to address you respectfully."

The boy was shrinking in his position but as soon as I called out his name he straightened up, his colossal height becoming visible. He could be taller than anyone in the room.

"Do you have a place where you could go to?" With a little bit of hesitancy, I asked, seeing now that he was sitting so upright.

He didn't turn to me, nor did he answer.

"I mean, I'm no one to pry, of course." I saw his hand grabbing on the edge of the bench tightly and I gulped. "Since I saved you the other day, I was a little concerned."

More like he didn't leave my mind. And his watch didn't, on that hand grabbing on the bench I saw a figment of the wristwatch and its brown leather belt partially hidden inside the sleeves.

Since all of my focus was on his wrist I was startled to hear his raspy and low voice, a voice that sounded like it hadn't been used in ages.

"I...," He said quietly," I'm new. New here."

"Oh, you're new in Seoul? Looking for a place?" I finally looked up, now his eyes were facing me.

Again, I wondered how blue was such a fascinating colour, enamored by all, affecting us all since the first embryo was brought to earth.

Yet blue spoke voices, blue often spoke sadness and grief. People would say, 'I am feeling blue', because they're sad and they don't know why.

Hyungwon's eyes weren't blue, they were dark like chocolate, like mahogany wood, coffee beans, wet earth after a long rain shower.