Work Text:
I.
every possible outcome, I am glad i’m with you. in that car, my baby. my baby, hyun soo-ah.
i am glad the gun pointed to my head are held steady in your pale hands. i am even more glad that you still deign to look at me in the eye during. do you see it? the light as it left my eyes. you must have thought im a corny asshole. that is my last gift to you, baby. i am glad. my gait across hell are upon the warmth of the barrel and the coldness of your gaze. do you know how happy that make me become. do you?
do you know if there is any other outcome, with us, other than this. you killing me. me killing you. a close range gun shot, pry me open with a knife, ran me over with my baby, the red gleam of the paint mixed with my blood. i am glad. the word itself barely adequate. its fucking exhilarating. goddamn, even in these freezing rain that still got me hard. your voice carry me over, the strength of your hold carry me over.
II.
honey, i am home. our home in another happenstance. our place by the water. it cost half of my savings but i would rob a bank like a common prick for you.
honey, you learned how to cook watching re-runs of variety shows. your laugh unrestrained and you asked me would i like rose pasta.
don’t ask the obvious. i would be on my hands and knees begging for scraps if it fed by your hands.
you drag me to trips to the market. the lady in your favourite side dish shop had a small smile on her face as she shove the plastic bags to my hand.
goddamn, our home there are having a favourite side dish shop and your tender kisses upon my shoulder blades when i woke up.
your hands, the kitchen knife with stains of red peppers, ribbons of green onions kimchi on the plate by the bowl of ramyeon. slices of tender meat on white porcelain. a bowl of rice and hot soup accompany your pout when i come home late.
honey, darling, i think i forget your name. i think i said it over and over again until it own me. now, its mine. our home smell like the sweet instant coffee you make in the morning that i despise. saved up three months for a machine for you, i am a magician opening my hat for a cup of espresso and your scoff are my applause.
honey i am home and i shuffle through the door with an aromatheraphy diffuser in my arm because you complained about the smell of cigarette smoke. honey i am home. honey, i quit smoking for you. your smile filled with mirth over the sight of nicotine patches and the bubble gum flavors of the vapors.
this stupid fucking tie keep getting crooked. and your fingers steady by my collar. do you think i fool you already? its been years and you still fix it with a straight face. honey, im going to work. honey, i want to die poured over sweet honey. your full lips. kisses engulf my sweat. honey, the makgeolli you brought home after the trip you took with your mother to jeju are too sweet for me. i am driving you to the station, your mother stifled laugh seeing you offer me your cheek to kiss.
honey, honey i think i am going to kill the girl in the coffee chain next street over. we have shit coffee at home and my devotion in your hands. her smile too wide for you. honey, you said you’d burn for me. i would too. kitten licks of your tongue over me and the embers burn blue.
i would bring your mother back from the death for you. don’t look back. don’t look back no takebacks. i own your name. i dealt these cards for you
honey, in another life. in another outcome. if i toss the dice one more time. if i hit the ball a little bit to the left. missing the homerun. honey, our home is on fire.
III.
honey im home and if i am a better person, i would keep my voice down entering the doorway. honey i am home. honey you dont understand. if i am a better person. i will shot you in that cell the moment your hand grazed mine. because, i fool myself and you with a sliver of mercy. a featherlight touch of penance over the bruise on your face. pretty darling, my baby.
i am the light creeping by the hole over your side of the bed in that cell. look at me. i put the gun in your hands. you pull the trigger. holding me close. oh im glad honey, to die in your arms. you made it hyung. i made it. i die in your arms.
i wish you understand. i wish you did more than understand. even now. who else would lay down in your arms just for you to offer penance. i am glad i have that power upon me. i am glad i move your hands unto my hands and make you trust me. i am glad you are by my side. i made the circumstances for you. i made them for you, made them inside of you. guiding your hand to mine
you have that power over me. in your arms, we are cheek to cheek, your eyes never leave mine. these fuckers do not understand death. death are not some variance murking the outcome. death is the fucking outcome. do you understand now hyun soo-ah? do you? again and again.
the rage of the engine roar, your voice soft. “what do you want for lunch?” your gaze upon me when i look over the passenger seat. this is what made it felt like. a car, a beautiful boy, a remmants of a poem in my head. “do you hear me?”
IV.
hyun soo-ah do you know how many funerals i went to? copy after copy of the black suit and the tie i worn. the meals i scarfed down with delight. all the envelopes i shove could make a down payment already. hyun soo-ah i am glad. i am glad i don’t have to go to yours or you to mine. maybe you will, maybe you’d gone just to spit on my framed picture and stomped on the offerings.
who am i kidding, i taught you not to go to the scene of the crime. we arent savages. you arent a savage and i am dead.
but hyun soo-ah, they said rest in peace to the dead, right? and you gave me that. you gave me my fucking peace. i made it. you made me rest. a slender boy with a handgun and a fast car. that poem again and the first words you greeted me after prison with remind me how corny these all are.
you lead me to my peace. the endless sky on the horizon of the unimaginable altitute. finally. i wish you understand what it meant, darling. i am home honey. i wish you understand what it meant. i owe you so fucking much. spit on the framed picture, hyun soo-ah. have a ride in my baby with a pretty girl hanging in your arm. i owe you so much, honey. honey, i am home.