IV. TOGETHER

Changes to our lives began the very moment we returned from our escapade; some big, some small, — but a transition nonetheless.

To start with, — upon returning back to the country, instead of going back to our respective houses, now there was only one home. In our absence, Yoo Han's mother had instructed for a good section of the second floor to be reconfigured into a private domain for our personal use; which included hijacking his brother and sister's unused former rooms.

His brother's room was now a private sitting room with an attached conservatory, linked to Yoo Han's study;
Whereas the wall between the siblings' former rooms now boasted a new archway, leading the sitting room to a contemporary open kitchen-dining space.
His bedroom and en suite bathroom were enlarged proportionately to make room for a wider walk-in wardrobe in between.

All the rooms in the new suite now shared a same colour scheme;
— Which was the colour of his suit and my tie from our first day in Maldives.

It wasn't until we came back, did I learn the name of the expressive blue-grey tone;
— Saxe Blue.
'How befitting,' I thought to myself wryly.

Every wall was richly re-painted in the colour, accentuated with white mouldings and light oak flooring.
Even the furnitures were painstakingly reselected to complement the space.

How ever did she manage to do so much within less than the two weeks we were away, was a mystery I never got around to solve.

Over and above that, she had also arranged for all the little things left over in my room at my aunt's apartment to be brought over, and meticulously placed next to Yoo Han's; from clothes and shoes, to toothbrush and pillows.
I might have stayed over at his place many times over the course of years we have been together; but having my personal artefacts next to his seemed far more intimate than I thought it would.

And while his mother was busy attending to the finer details in our lives, his father, — in all autocratic chicanery fashion, abused his position to assign preferential roles to both he and I.
Overnight, two twenty-five year-old graduates were designated at the top of the food chain in Taejong Group;
Yoo Han was made executive director who sat on the Board, while leading the group's creative department as their Chief Creative Officer; — and I, his second.
Stinks of autocracy much?

All in all, our new lives together began before I could even come to terms with reality.

-.-.-.-///-.-.-.-

In spite of my prior skepticism, Yoo Han has proven unexpectedly befitting of his role at work. In the years he has taught me colours, he had also gained incredible artistic insights and exceedingly good with designs. For someone who couldn't recognise faces, he could distinguish styles and characteristics of different arts, — even the history behind it, should he be bothered to divulge them.

Very quickly, he gained the confidence of the people in the department, as well as the Board;
— Though he still very much hated dealing with them.

And that was pretty much sums up my role in the office; the go-to person who deals with all the nitty-gritty matters that required human interactions. As his second, wherever he goes, I go. Even my work desk was stationed inside of Yoo Han's office for his convenience, — on the Chairman's specific instructions; although was it really the Chairman's request, or Yoo Han's, — your guess is as good as mine.

Two years into the job, Yoo Han was already at the top of his game with many big investments pouring into projects he led; all eyes were on his latest concept design and the lucky group of investors in Shanghai would be the first to view the unveiling next week.

For months we had worked ourselves to the bone for the presentation, with days meeting nights to no end. I couldn't remember the last time we actually slept in our bed after spending countless nights on the couch in the office, or on the table; — whichever that was closest within reach.

And that was how I was discovered the night before we were scheduled to travel to Shanghai for the week-long presentation; on my desk, with my arms pillowing my heavy head.

"...Yeon Woo-yah..." In my subconscious, I could hear Yoo Han calling me, rousing me to wake.
But I was too dead tired to even acknowledge him.

"... Yeon Woo?... Choi Yeon Woo...!" He tried again, louder.
I could only groan in reply, nothing more, — as I turned away from the light in the room. The sudden photosensitivity was giving me a splitting headache.

His cool palm came to rest on my neck, offering momentary solace before it was quickly pulled back as though it had been scalded.

"Yeon Woo-yah, you're burning up!"
'Is that why I feel like I've been hit by a tonne of bricks?' — I thought to myself, trying to rise above the fatigue.

"We're going to the hospital," Yoo Han said urgently, stealing me off my desk into his arms and out the office in plain sight for everyone to see; — to which, I would have opposed immensely to such treatment in the office, if I weren't too far gone to disagree.

'Perhaps if the doctors will give me a quick jab, I will spring back on my two feet in no time,' I feebly thought to myself.
But it seems that I was terribly off the mark.

"He's got a bad case of the flu with a fever of 39 degrees and severe dehydration. Although he will not need to be admitted, Choi Yeon Woo-sshi will require plenty of bed rest over the next two days," — was the verdict at the hospital.

If I weren't so out of it, I would have protested. After all, what did the doctors know about the blood and sweat invested by everyone involved in our work? Or the potential loss of billions in investment?

"Choi Yeon Woo! Is this the time to be thinking about work?" Yoo Han chastised, driving us back home.

"I just need to sleep it off tonight. I can fine tune the presentation in the plane tomorrow..." I replied drowsily.

Far from convinced, Yoo Han only scoffed; but made no further comments.
Probably because, he too had hoped that I would recover in time, — for the very idea of being apart was an option neither he, nor I appreciated.

But I was no where near better the next morning. Despite putting up my best front, — with a stagger here, off-kilter balance there, and a fever that wouldn't go down, — there was absolutely no way I was going to make it to Shanghai without falling flat on my face first.

"I'll have Joon Yeong reschedule the meeting," he said decisively, after the fifth time I 'tripped' over the carpet in our bedroom.

"No, no — don't! The reception dinner is tonight itself. It's too late to be rescheduling now," I pled with him.

Looking downright exasperated, he glared at me, "You're not suggesting we go ahead as plan, are you?"

I hated it when he was right.
I hated even more for him to be angry with me.
But I wasn't dying of anything serious,
And work shouldn't be impeded by personal affairs.

So with a heavy heart, I exhaled with remorse, "Not us; — you... Just you..."

Openly disbelieving what he was hearing, Yoo Han lashed out in vexation, —
"Are you out of your mind?!
Are you really suggesting that I go attend to some money grubbing meeting, while leaving you all alone in this state?!
And even if you weren't sick, did you think I would leave you alone for such an extended period?

How are you going to survive without me?
How am I supposed to survive without you?"

"Yoo Han, it's only for a week.
I can deal with it.
Moreover, I'll be asleep most of the time...
I won't have time to be obsessed..." I argued, — although in reality, I was far from the confidence I portrayed.

"And me? What about me?"

I know he wasn't referring to his face blindness, but I pointedly ignored his possessive disposition.
"I'll leave Joon Yeong explicit instructions to prompt you according," I replied, without missing a beat.

But knowing that it was only so long I could keep up with this charade before weariness took its toll on me, I quickly cut his next retort by offering to put his coat on for him as I usually do every morning.

"Although it might not be possible for me to follow you to Shanghai, at the very least I could see you to the airport..." I said, smiling amidst the sorrow.

As reluctant as he was to leave, I was equally reluctant to let go.
But I had to make the first move, otherwise it will be a stalemate at the airport.

"Go..." I urged, bidding him a safe journey without saying goodbye.

He turned back to look at me for the hundredth time with a petulant pout and misery in those caramels I loved. I was pretty sure that my eyes reflected the same wretchedness as I watched him go, — no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was only going to be for a week.

As foreshadowed, — no sooner than the closing of automated doors behind him, the diverse range of colours faded with every step he took further away from me. With Yoo Han's constant presence in my life in the last few years, I have lived like a Mono who has forgotten the world of greys. Now for the first time in a long while without him, the feeling of despair and desperation returned with vengeance.

Awash with nausea due to de-colouring, I staggered unsteadily on my feet. My brains were working overtime to reconcile the shades of grey I once knew with the colours I now know; giving me an explosive headache in the process. Coupled with my weakened constitution, I could only be in for the worse for wear.

Grabbing hold of our family driver in my last attempt to stay on my feet, I managed to choke the words, "... Don't tell Yoo Han-nie..." before losing consciousness.

Although the family honoured my request not to alert Yoo Han, I knew Mother had her hesitations, — and in her own way, made up for keeping my conditions from Yoo Han by having the household helpers check up on my wellbeing around the clock, making sure that I had everything I need at all times.

But being confined to bed for nearly two days, there was only so much I needed. Other than drifting in and out of oblivion, the passage of time was like a blur to me.

Fortunately my fever broke by the third day, regaining some clarity in the mind;
Unfortunately, along with lucidity, came the reminder that being apart from Yoo Han had its repercussions.

I broke down in devastating sobs when the Saxe Blue walls became nothing more than a dark shade of grey before my eyes;
All the colours that I should recognise in our bedroom was now a grey of sorts.

'Without Yoo Han-nie, it's like being abandoned in a lifeless world.'

Depression was having a field day dragging up my insecurities to surface, creating multitude of doubts in its wake.
The obsession I haven't had since high school, conjured notions that was so drastic, so horrific, — that thinking alone gave me the shivers.

I was in a catastrophic state; — like an addict trying to rid himself of addiction.

The moment I was strong enough to move about, I literally had the room barricaded from inside,
My hands tied to the leg of our bedpost with a tie,
And my phone turned off and thrown far from my reach.

I didn't want to cause Yoo Han any problems in my moment of weakness; I couldn't risk calling him just because I had no self-restraint. More importantly, I wasn't confident enough not to be reduced into a mindless state, if I had heard his voice.

Mother was beside herself with worry when no one could get in, in the last 12 hours.
But I couldn't admit how bad of a shape I was in without having to worry her even more.

What if she thought the insanity in me was detrimental to her son?
What if she decided I wasn't good enough? —
All the thoughts that was once put to rest, now raised like the undead to haunt me.

After 24 hours, Mother must have either given up or thought of the worst, when her voice stopped filtering through the door every hour;
— Which was a good thing.
There was enough madness in me, that the added stress would very well finish me off.

My wrists were chafed raw from fighting the restraints of my tie.
Bloody bite marks littered all over my arms, for it was the closest thing I could inflict pain on whenever I needed reprieve from insanity.
In other words, — I was physically and mentally a mess.

I had lost track of time after nightfall.
I didn't even know when I fell asleep; — or was it falling unconscious? — It didn't matter.

It must have been the morning of the fifth day, — or was it the sixth day? — when I had the rudest awakening. The door I reinforced with mix furnitures from the room on the inside, had finally met its match from the outside. Whoever it was who was making a ruckus tearing down the door before first light, wasn't the least bothered about waking the whole neighbourhood.

"Stop...!" I hollered.
But my voice was too hoarse and barely audible from all the crying I did the evening before.

The demolition didn't stop until the door was finally broken down and the furnitures strewn aside.

Thinking of the worst being discovered in the state I was, suddenly, dying wasn't all that bad of an alternative after all.

"Choi Yeon Woo!!!" — I could hear the trepidation in his voice before I could even catch a glimpse of him.

Yoo Han?
Go Yoo Han was back?
Already?! —
Inwardly I was panicking, but there was also a sense of relieve as tears re-flooded my abused eyes while I struggled to free myself.

As he turned the corner to where I was, his presence was blinding like the sun at midday.
And at one glance of his handsome face, inevitably brought along the colour rush like an open tide.

After days apart, I would have wanted more than a fleeting moment with him. But the ferocity of the colour rush was so intense, I found myself falling again into the abyss, as I did before in my earlier encounters with colour rush.

I only managed to hear him call my name heavily entwined with concern, "Yeon Woo-yah!" — before collapsing unceremoniously into his arms.

It took a much longer time than expected for me to regain consciousness; which could have been due to the fact that I haven't experienced a colour rush in a long time, or that I was actually far weaker than I thought I was, —
But by the time I came to it, it was already late in the evening.

Yoo Han was there vigilantly sat next to me on the bed with wretchedness etched in his eyes, as he brushed back my hair in tender strokes with one hand, while the other held my bruised and bandaged wrist to his lips.

"If you had died, I would have followed suit, you know..." he said with muted sorrow.

"I— I wasn't — wasn't trying to kill myself...!" I countered, chocking on the words forced through my raw and parched throat.

Yoo Han heaved an exasperated sigh as he brought ice chips to my chapped lips.

"To think that, for the past five days I thought to myself how miserable I was without you there, and here you were, suffering needlessly without me..." he aired his grievance accusingly; pointedly starring at my wrist to make his point.

All I could muster was a sad excuse of smile in return;
— Which only earned an opposite effect.

"Why didn't you tell me?
And why didn't you allow anyone to tell me either?!" he berated, — hurt from being kept in the dark.

"I didn't want to trouble you for something so trivial..."
It wasn't in my nature to play damsel in distress. Moreover, it was mortifying to admit having the need to be with him at all times, although it was the truth.

But something in what I just said must have unintentionally triggered him, because his grip suddenly tightened painfully around my wrist, —
"Trivial?!" His voice rose several decibels in incredulity, —
"Yeon Woo-yah...! You could have died, if I came home any later!"

"... I wouldn't let myself die..."

"Yes, you would!"

I was forced to let the matter slide, — as it was impossible trying to convince someone otherwise, when one had a prior suicide record.

I attempted to sit up, but imagine my horror when my arms refused to cooperate and buckled from mere exertion of propping up my own weight. Mercifully, he offered silence assistance, momentarily holding back his reproval.

"Yoo Han-ah...
I swear to you that I honestly wasn't suicidal.
I just wanted to stop myself from letting my emotions get the best of me...
Do you understand that...?"

"Then do you understand my anguish when I find you sick, bloodied, starved and in pain?"

I suppose, I had always been so caught up in my own insecurities that I hadn't spare a thought for how he felt.

"... I'm sorry..." — I owed him this much an apology for my lack of consideration, as I leaned my forehead to his shoulder.

I could hear him heave a heavy exhale over my head, before speaking, —
"I promise, no matter what, — I will never willingly leave your side...
But in return, I want your promise to never suffer alone...

I need you as much as you need me, Yeon Woo-yah...
So don't take everything onto yourself...

I'm here;
Next to you.
With you.
— Always..."

-.-.-.-///-.-.-.-