A/N: Day 9 of coronavirus, finally tested negative!! Still coughing and yuck but i think that's jsut the aftermath. Lemon, honey and whisky hot drink has gotten me through these 9 days lol!! Again, severely unedited. I hope you're still enjoying it regardless. I also hope to see and hear from you in the comments section. Love to hear your thoughts. Please also vote if you enjoy!!  

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Just as I did so many times already since waking up in hospital, I stood there watching Chanyeol's back as he turned to leave. The door clicked shut behind him and I took a deep, unsteady breath while I tried to collect my thoughts. How much heartbreak could somebody endure in one lifetime? I didn't know, but this was quickly becoming more than I could take.

I gathered my shoes and clothes and dressed as quickly as I could manage, regretting not letting us go all the way first. If only I'd first let myself get lost in his arms before running the risk of ruining everything between us, if there was anything we could call left between us at all. He told me to leave on my own, but I didn't want him to come home to the house in this state. Although it was completely renovated and refurbished to the point that I could no longer recognize it, it still was once my home. And although we were essentially strangers now, he was still the man I would love until death.

After little more than a moments deliberation, I stepped carefully through the broken shards on the floor all the way through to the kitchen. Much of this would be far beyond my capacity to clean, but I'd do the best I could before leaving. My eyes strayed to the rubbish bin where he'd dumped our mugs. Both were cracked and had shards fallen into the bin, but they weren't beyond repair.

Chanyeol hadn't emptied the drinks first before discarding them, so the bin liner was filled with hot chocolate and the slimy remains of marshmallows. I dipped my hand into the bottom, feeling around for any broken pieces I might have missed. He may have been ready to let these go, but I wasn't, so I set them aside on the countertop for me to come back to soon.

A noiseless wave of melancholy washed through me and left me festering in these thoughts of despair. I shook these invasive thoughts, remembering instead that father-in-law would always keep a broom in the kitchen cupboard. After finding it there, I set to work on the floors while my mind became enveloped in restless thoughts. By staying here like this, I was merely biding by the time before I had to enter back into the real world.

I'd have to seek out Jaemin and Jung-ho, arrange a short-term place for me to stay, access my old emails, set up a new bank account, and create a new resume. I'd need to search for a job. Having drifted through seven years without a conscious thought, I never got to study or sit my driver's license. I never got the chance to pursue a dream or figure out what made me happy except for Chanyeol. Now that I was already twenty-six years old, I had to mold myself into this adult person.

My cold and lonely thoughts swayed from a kind family who spent two years mimicking love and connection with a stranger who was unable to reciprocate those feelings, to a lover who spent three out of seven years wiping any traces of a former love. The sound of broken pieces clinking as I brushed them towards the kitchen would occasionally return me to reality, and the scent of hot chocolate continued to linger.

Time ruthlessly crept by, marking more than three hours before I felt satisfied enough to call the job almost done. I picked up the larger shards and wrapped them in newspaper before disposing of them into plastic bags, then used a dustpan and broom for the rest. I tried to move the table and stand it upright, but it was so heavy that I was astounded that Chanyeol was able to lift it yet alone throw it across the room. I wondered what he felt in those moments; how much he resented me, or the world, or even himself.

I brushed the broken shards off the table and tried to make it as safe as possible for Chanyeol to deal with later, vacuumed the smallest pieces I might have missed, then finished off with his mop. There was a lot of damage to the walls and windows, but there wasn't anything I could do about them. Actually, since this place had established so much more wealth since I lived here, maybe they had cleaning and repair services and functioned something like a hotel.

I looked around and found a telephone in a kitchen corner. As I thought, it was exactly the same as a standard hotel phone used as an intermediary to provide services. One button had 'reception' written below it, so I picked up the dial and brought it to my ear. One of the two clerks from earlier picked up the phone.

"Hello Mr. Han," she answered with a kind and respectful tone. "How may we help you?"

"I need maintenance and disposal," I said. "Broken windows, damaged walls, and a coffee table to be disposed of." I considered how heavy the coffee table was and the fact that he threw it on the floor where it hit the back of the kitchen counter. "Maybe also somebody to fix broken tiles and the kitchen counter. And a cleaner to safely dispose of the broken pieces."

"Certainly, Mr. Han," she said, then seemed to pause and hesitate for a moment. "May I ask if this concerns a recent unwelcome guest?"

My heart throbbed at her sharp but truthful words. "Something like that," I said, closing my eyes and pinching my forehead as I sighed. "Thank you," I said and ended the call.

The room was far better now than when Chanyeol left, so it was time for me to go. I knew this; but even so, it was hard for me to bring myself to leave. Once I locked the door behind me, there was no way for me to come back inside. Up until five days ago, this was my home. Three months prior to that, I was sharing the bed with Chanyeol and falling asleep in his arms every night. My mind still struggled to come to terms with the fact that seven years had slipped by unnoticed, and I wondered if it truly ever would.

It was time for me to leave, but I still wasn't ready to part ways. Although I already knew that I didn't leave anything behind in his room, I told myself that I should still check and entered inside. The crumpled bed cover called to me as images of our heated passion bubbled back to the surface, but I tried to block them out. My eyes strayed to his closets that spanned across both sides of his bed.

I stood up and opened the mirrored doors, seeing that every inch of hanging space was filled with dark business suits. I ran my fingers along them, imagining him going through his wardrobe and sifting through these very clothes every day. There were drawers for ties and watches, and shoe racks that were filled with mostly leather loafers, plus some sports shoes. There was hardly anything casual inside at all. Did he not take any time for himself? Is that how he rose into such a high position while he was still so young?

I pushed the cupboard door closed and moved to the other end, where I was surprised to see a small stack of light cardigans and jerseys hanging in the corner. One of them looked familiar; a dark red cardigan that I'd bought for him when he took me out for my seventeenth birthday. It had looked so handsome that I was more excited to see him wearing it than I was for my own birthday.

He wore it almost every day, especially at home when it was cold, and he'd pull me against him to warm him on the couch, often kissing my head absentmindedly. Sometimes I'd wear it after him just because it had his smell on it. I touched the material and brought it to my nose, unsurprised, but still disappointed that it only smelled like it'd been holed up in the cupboard for years. Still, it was Chanyeol's cupboard. I took out the cardigan and folded it in my arms. If I couldn't have my lover, then I wanted to take a remnant of him back with me at the very least.

There were colognes and skincare products on a shelf inside the cupboard. I lifted each one to my nose to find one that I recognized on him today, then sprayed it onto the sweater... more times than necessary for good measure. He probably wouldn't notice the missing cardigan, and if he did, then I doubted he'd miss it at all. I sat back down on the bed and held the cardigan tightly against my chest, feeling so warm but so lonely back inside this bedroom. I shut the cupboard door and returned to the bed, giving into the temptation of recalling those recent memories.

Closing my eyes, I lay down on his bed and pictured his large chest and shoulders that made me feel so safe, his strong arms that still held me so possessively even after all these years, and the boundless passion and fervor in every one of his kisses. I snuggled my face into the blanket and pulled my legs up to my chest, hugging his cardigan against me and basking in his smell. It felt like I'd just returned from three months in the army and Chanyeol would be home soon to welcome me back in his arms. Just like this, I let myself drift into a deep and peaceful slumber.

Hours had gone by so that it was already late into the afternoon when I woke. I straightened up the bedsheets and tidied up the room before leaving. There was no way for me to know when Chanyeol would come home, but I didn't want to be here when he did. I wrapped the mugs inside Chanyeol's cardigan, then secured them inside my bag. Now, I really had to leave.

My heart hammered in my chest as I stepped outside of the apartment. After moments of hesitation and regret, I slowly closed the door behind me. The moment the door clicked, panic set in once I realized I'd done something that I was unable to take back. I fumbled for the handle, but I was already locked out. There was no way for me to return home now. I hadn't looked for a photo of us, I didn't look for other memories that I could save before he threw them away.

My body shook as desperation set in, rattling the door handle, and wishing I could take it back. "Damn it," I muttered, rattling the door handle. "Damn it, damn it."

When I knew that I had lost a useless battle, I stepped back and sighed. His keypad was flashing purple, as if to remind the user that they needed to tap in the code to enter. I wondered if he used the same password that I'd set up for everything. Caught in a moment of curiosity, I tapped in the digits of his birthday and watched the light flash red. He really did work hard to remove each trace of me from our home.

For a moment, for just a split moment of weakness, I wanted to try something... just in case. Though I knew it was a long shot, I wanted to try. If I was wrong, then I'd turn around and never look back. I'd accept that Chanyeol did his hardest to break down our empty shell of memories so that he could finally move on and find peace. I'd accept that he'd truly let me go.

But if... if I was wrong...

I reached for the keypad again, this time entering the digits of my own birthday. Time stood still as I stepped back and watched, staring hard at the light with hope and desperation that it would turn green. After what might have been the most agonizing few seconds of my life, the light flashed green, and the door latch clicked to release. I was worried this might have been a dream. Just to be sure, I slowly and carefully reached the door handle and pushed it down. When the door opened, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the resolve that I needed. I had new reason to believe that Chanyeol needed time, and that he would definitely come back to me in the end.

With this, I was able to let go of all my fear and regret and clambered down the stairs. It was an easier trek than going up, but I was still shaking and out of breath by the time I reached the bottom. The two clerks shot up from their seats behind the reception and gasped when they saw me dashing out of the building. I had to get back to the hospital and work out with Jaemin and Jung-ho about staying at their granny flat.

I sat waiting at the bus stop for twenty-five minutes, with just five minutes to spare before the bus was due to arrive. However, the sound of sirens slowly grew louder until a police vehicle pulled up in front of me. They drove just out of the way of the bus parking area then stepped out of the car, each approaching me.

"Haneul Bom?" an officer asked, looking down at an unfamiliar piece of technology in his hands. It looked a lot like the phone Jaemin gave me but was incredibly large and square.

"He matches the description," the other officer murmured, then looked at me like I was scum of the earth. "We've had a report of breaking and entering, and property damage with you as the main suspect. We're going to need you to come with us to the station to answer a few questions."

I stood up, looking at them both confused. "I think there's a misunderstanding," I started, but they quickly grabbed me by the arms and forced them behind my back. I heard the clanking of metal before I felt its cold and heavy texture secure my arms. They pressed them on tight so that it hurt. I struggled to readjust it around my wrists so there was less pressure, but the more I did so only make it worse for myself.

"Yeah, yeah. You can clear the misunderstanding at the station," he said, slamming me against the car door. When he opened it up, he threw me inside and pulled the seatbelt over me. He stepped back and leaned his arm over the window, clearly displaying our differences in power. I shrunk back, scared of these types of people. "Depending on how well you do, you might get out tonight."

The prospect didn't look too promising when, at the end of the day, I had nobody to vouch for me.