#* 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › haneul.

[inhyelee]

—their home › @pcrkhcneul

it wasn't until midnight that she returned, small sigh leaving her lips as she made her way throughout the house. the past few months had been hectic, exhaustion that had etched its way onto her features cleverly disguised by baleful sneers and sharp glares. it almost made inhye miss her loser husband. because it was only within these halls that she allowed herself to relax; that she could admit that she, too, was human. worry, regret, grief. even if she denied it to the world, she was unable to lie to herself. she stops at the entrance of the study, silently leaning against its frame. how many times had she taken this exact route, so sure that when she arrived, the room would be empty? that he'd finally had enough. with every step, a familiar schoolgirl chant — he loves, he loves me not. each passing day, another petal plucked from a blood-bloomed rose. AND YET? and yet, with each petal plucked, another stem sprouted from the base of her heart. when had he so firmly taken root? and how could she sever him — how could she tear out the weeds — without bleeding herself out? it's only after a long silence that she speaks, gaze never wavering from where he sits. 〝 this room has a good view. 〞 said with just as much innocence as a wolf disguised to be little red riding hood.

[inhyelee]

〝 well, you're certainly not here to find me. 〞 which was somehow even worse, apparently.

"not avoid you. if i was doing that, i wouldn't show you where i was hiding out."

[inhyelee]

〝 i wasn't talking about the view from the window, 〞 she couldn't help but snap back, already regretting her semi-compliment to him. and yet he wondered why she wasn't nicer to him? ( as if she even had the ability to be nice; after ten years of marriage, she was sure haneul would be even more uncomfortable if she showed affection — because it would most likely mean that something was very, very wrong ). but her expression softened when he stood up, whatever snide remark quickly forgotten when he asked his next question. have you eaten? she remembered the first time she had heard it — the way she froze in place, unable to mask the confusion that marred her features. it was a simple question; could even be considered an expected one. she'd heard all sorts of insults throughout the years, both veiled and overt — but questions like these? she'd been independent ever since she'd been a child. if she was hungry, she'd eat. reminders were taken as insult — were framed as incompetence. yet every time he asked, there was no belittlement; no reproach. a kitchen table was just a kitchen table. a place to eat; a place to talk. food wasn't only a means of nourishment to keep up her fight. it was a simple question — but somehow, it had clawed its way into her chest, creating a place where she could put her guard down — if only for a moment. she met him in the middle of the room, closing the distance between them and ignoring the question altogether. some would think that evasion meant she didn't care — that his concern didn't matter. but perhaps the silence meant that it did. she usually always had a remark on the tip of her tongue. but this time, words were arbitrary. perhaps the silence meant that it mattered too much. inhye's expression shuttered as she took his left hand in both of hers, studying the ring upon his finger with a sort of mild curiosity. 〝 how many times have you thought about filing for divorce? 〞

it wasn't that he expected her home for dinner; there was no resentment of a missed meal or evening alone. he only wished- there was something to be said for the heads-up. lawyers kept odd hours there was no doubt but he it felt like the tbc office had swallowed his wife whole. haneul liked rhythms and they had built one over the years, is dissonant as it often was. they had become a unit and now inhye had gone missing in the tbc building.

he didn't turn around to look at her, just picking up his gaze from his computer to the window, curtains pulled back to let in the city lights. "yes, it does. as i remember, it's one of the reasons we picked this place."

he flicked off his computer and stood, taking his time to push in his chair. only then, when he had swallowed the urge to look at her and say you don't call, you don't text like his mother when he went off to university, did he turn around to look at her. and she...

inhye looked tired. he's been upset after an evening of feeling neglected and fragile in a way that would have made him anxious is he hadn't felt that way in a long while now. and inhye was standing in the study doorway looking ready to drop. and haneul felt guilty and relieved all at once. he didn't have to think about himself, the way he was vibrating apart.

"have you eaten?" he asked, stepping towards her. which wife would he get tonight? and would it matter? he would love her just the same.

[inhyelee]

〝 so this is where you go to avoid me? 〞

location: national galley

"i usually only step in here because it's cool and quiet. you?"