Stranger To My Eyes

Yoonbum's life was perfect.

Every morning he woke up wrapped tight in his lover's arms, feeling the tickle of breath on his collarbone. Every morning he'd receive a kiss on his forehead before his day began.

He rose from their bed and peered out the window. The sun's golden rays travelled and caressed Sangwoo's sleeping body. Oh how lucky Yoonbum was, with a partner so effortlessly handsome, a partner so loving and thrilling, always keeping Bum on his toes.

He headed downstairs, making sure to tread lightly on the stairway so as to not wake the sleeping man, and wandered into the kitchen. Yawning, he wiped the crust from his eye and opened a cupboard, looking for a pan. He wanted to have breakfast ready for when Sangwoo awoke.

Turning on the radio, he flitted about the large kitchen and began to hum along. The gentle thrum of the music guided him as he made batter, and poured it into the sizzling pan.

Everything was perfect.

He made sure to be the perfect lover. Whatever Sangwoo asked for, he'd get, whenever Sangwoo needed him, he made sure to be there. His lover's touches always lingered on his body, a tingling, hot feeling sprouted wherever Sangwoo caressed.

Yoonbum didn't know what he'd do without Sangwoo, they were bound together, and Yoonbum knew that wherever Sangwoo went he'd follow, no matter the cost. They were born to be together.

It didn't matter that no one knew they were together, he was sure that Sangwoo was proud of their relationship, proud of him, deep down, even though he'd never said it. Sangwoo was warm, and he protected Yoonbum when he was weak. He corrected and forgave when Yoonbum would do something stupid, something reckless.

Bum was lucky, he supposed, to have a lover so…passionate, so caring, yet so straight forward, always pushing Yoonbum out of his comfort zone.

He always felt disgusted when his mind wondered and imagined how different his life would be without Sangwoo, and he berated himself for it. Sangwoo was all that he needed, there was no need to dream and think about a different life, he had one, and Bum wanted to keep it.

It was like walking on eggshells, teetering on the edge of a cliff. He had everything he'd ever dreamed, yet it didn't feel like anything was his. He was afraid that if he slipped up, made one mistake, everything would be ripped from his grasp, he'd lose his life, his home, Sangwoo.

He arranged Sangwoo's breakfast on a plate and grabbed a glass. Deciding to check if his lover was awake, he began to tip-toe along the wooden floor when a glint caught his eye. Turning he noticed that a mirror was hanging on the wall. It seemed to be new, as Bum had never seen it before.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he sighed. He was scrawny and skinny- how did Sangwoo ever fall for him? His hair was a mess, strands sticking up in all directions. His pyjamas were wrinkled and too big, practically falling off his lithe and small frame.

Then, his attention was drawn to his face. His skin was pale, his lips chapped, and his eyebags were large. Hickeys peppered down his neck. They were oddly shaped though, and some were a bluish-purple while others were almost green. They stood out starkly against his skin. Upon his cheek was a large blotch, which Yoonbum thought may have been ink at first, yet upon further inspection, he realised that it couldn't have been ink as there were parts that were slightly different colours. Bringing his fingers to his face, he pressed against the discolouration and flinched. It hurt to touch.

Oh look, his hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? Staring at his hands, he watched the slight tremor evolve into a terrible, uncontrollable tremble. Frantically, he glanced at himself in the mirror once more, and paused.

Turning suddenly, his eyes found the door. Looking around, he took a deep breath and ran. It must have been six metres, yet it felt like a thousand. He was almost there. His leg tensed and he tripped, hitting the wooden floor with a smack. His head shot to the direction of the stairs and he waited with baited breath for any sign of movement from upstairs. Nothing happened.

What was he doing? Was he really trying to get away, even after everything that Sangwoo had done for him? Sure, sometimes he was scared of the younger, when arguments would turn violent, when he messed up or when Sangwoo was upset. He was worried about his touches becoming painful. Sometimes it was unknown whether the taller's touches would be loving or cruel.

But that was the price he had to pay.

Yoonbum had done bad things, and Sangwoo was his penance.

He should have been grateful, grateful that someone was still prepared to love him and care for him, but sometimes something worse than fear seeped into his mind-doubt. Occasionally, he would find himself doubting Sangwoo's love for him, which was a terrible, terrible thing to do, as Yoonbum was sure that he did, even though he'd never said it out loud.

A tear slipped from his eye, and he quickly wiped it away, trying to stop the inevitable. But alas, one tear became two and then two became an uncontrollable torrent. Hiccuping, he couldn't help but feel guilty. Sangwoo had done so much for him, and the way that Yoonbum tried to repay him was by running away.

Some part of him, and Bum didn't know how big it was, knew that he would never leave Sangwoo, knew that he wasn't strong enough to leave this superficial love that he had convinced himself was real.

They were tethered together, even if Sangwoo didn't know it.